What He Bargains (What He Wants, Book Nineteen) (79 page)

“I’ve got orders to bring you to Mister Winters,” the driver replied.

“Wait a minute. He’s not even in the car?” she asked in disbelief.

“Please, ma’am. We’re on a very tight schedule.”

“We are?”

He nodded, his eyes unreadable. “Yes.”

Faith texted Chase now, her fingers flying as she angrily wrote to him.

Is this some kind of sick joke u’r playing on me right now??? U aren’t even here?

“Ma’am,” the driver said again.

“Hold on,” she told him, and gave him a look that said she meant business.

Chase replied
. Get in the limo. Don’t make any trouble
.

That was his response. He sounded like a kidnapper. She wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but of course, she wouldn’t ever do that.

She only had to picture his naked torso, those muscles, the smooth skin rippling over abs that were like steel, and a chance to perhaps touch those tattoos, kiss them, while he told her what each one signified…

“I guess I’m going,” she announced, trying to appear proud, but the driver couldn’t have cared less.

She got in and he shut the door softly after her.

T
he limo ride
was relatively uneventful, given the fact that it was her first time ever in a limousine. But she couldn’t enjoy it, not when she was going god only knew where, to meet him.

To meet Chase Winters, the man whom everyone was talking about.

And she didn’t at all feel up to the task.

What does he even want with me? Does he actually want to have sex with me?

She couldn’t believe that he would. After all, he was a guy who could literally sleep with almost any woman he wanted, just pick them off the street—or more likely, the runway.

He was the kind of man who would and should date models.

So then why me?

She hadn’t the faintest idea. But nothing her mind could conjure up made her feel any more at ease, because there was simply no good scenario here.

And yet she couldn’t stop, couldn’t say no, couldn’t turn away either.

Chase hadn’t continued texting her, so there was truly no relief for her worried brain. Her phone was menacingly silent now.

When the limo came to rest in front of a large brownstone in Beacon Hill, Faith clutched her purse. “Are we here?” she asked.

The driver answered by getting out, coming around and opening her door again to let her out. “It was a pleasure,” he lied.

She knew he was lying because she’d been a pain in his ass in the beginning, after which she hadn’t said two words to the man. But she smiled and thanked him for the ride just the same.

Faith stood in front of the brownstone. “Wait,” she called out to the driver.

He stopped and looked at her. “Yeah?”

“Which apartment is his?”

“The whole thing is his,” he yelled back, and then laughing, got back in the limo.

The whole thing is his
. Faith stared at the magnificent building, located in very expensive Beacon Hill neighborhood. Something like this would go for millions, she was sure.

Shaking, and not from the cold but from nerves—of course, always nerves—she buzzed the buzzer.

A moment later, the door opened and there he was, in the flesh.

He was wearing a blue silk button-down shirt with the top few buttons unbuttoned. As it was, the buttons seemed to strain to contain the mass of muscle that was trying to burst out of the fabric.

“So you got here,” he said, cracking the tiniest of smiles. Maybe she was even just imaging a smile, that’s how faint it was. He turned and walked away as she came inside the apartment.

“Wow,” she said, staring, marveling at the gorgeous interiors. It looked like a spread out of Better Homes and Gardens or Architectural Digest.

Besides the blue shirt, Chase had on tight dark jeans, and polished shoes. He was very put together, which made her feel that much less put together.

“The place is all right,” he said, sounding bored. “My agent got it for me, had some famous interior designer do all this shit,” he continued, waving at the extremely tasteful and expensive décor.

“You don’t like it?” she asked him.

“My job is to smash and be smashed by three hundred pound maniacs most days of the week,” he said, running a hand across the back of his neck. “So I guess this fancy stuff just seems dumb to me. I should probably just live in a cave or something.”

Faith had to laugh, which was a relief. “I could totally see you holding one of those big spiked clubs,” she said.

His eyes narrowed. “You saying I’m like a cave man?”

“No, of course not,” she quickly back peddled. “I just meant—“

Suddenly he was grinning. “I know what you meant, sweetheart. And I’m just busting your chops.”

“Oh,” she relaxed, her cheeks flushing.

Chase’s dark eyes glanced toward her hand, and she realized she was still clutching the broken cell.

“What happened to your phone?” he asked, looking oddly concerned.

“Oh, this,” she laughed, feeling stupid and clumsy. “I, uh…I kind of dropped it when I was running out of my apartment tonight.”

“Let me see it,” Chase replied, holding his hand toward her.

“You can’t fix it,” she told him. “It’s smashed.”

“I didn’t say I could fix it,” he told her. “Now let me see the thing.”

As if she was powerless to refuse him, Faith slowly handed her phone over to him, and he took it and stared down at it, nodding. Then he took out his own phone and made a call, turning away from her slightly. “Rick? Hey, it’s Chase, buddy. I need a favor from you. My friend’s cell phone just broke and I need you to get her a new one immediately….yeah, it’s an iPhone, but not the newest model. Get her the newest model, okay?” He paused, nodding. “Cool, bud.”

Chase hung up from the call and slid the phone back in his pocket, then gave Faith her cell back.

“You can’t just do that,” she said, taken aback as she stared down at her hideously wounded device.

“Why not?” Chase asked, laughing a little.

“Because,” she said. But then she realized she wasn’t sure why it felt wrong. “I mean, how can he just get me a brand new phone? Those things are expensive.”

“Don’t worry, Rick will take care of you, that’s what he’s paid to do,” Chase said. His intense eyes looked unblinkingly into hers and she felt uncomfortable.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he told her, shaking his head. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“Well, thank you,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

It got quiet again, as Chase moved to a large, gorgeous table in what must have served as the dining area. Clearly, it hadn’t been used much, but there was a stack of papers on it, and Chase put his hand on the papers and slid them towards her. “You should sign these,” he said.

“Sign what?” she asked, hesitantly coming forward.

“Just some legal stuff that says you won’t go running off and blabbing to TMZ or Entertainment Tonight about what goes on between me and you.” He looked at her with those devilish eyes.

Faith swallowed, her throat dry. “I don’t get it.” She picked up the top piece of paper. It said Non-Disclosure Agreement in black bold type. But everything after that was legal gibberish to her.

“It’s nothing,” he said, “just a formality.”

She looked up at him, as he stood close to her. “What would I blab about?”

He smiled at her, and suddenly she could feel his body heat like a blast from a furnace, and she could see parts of the tattoos on his chest through the gaps in between the buttons of his shirt. “If you want to know what’s going to happen between us, you better sign those forms, girl.”

“There’s too many. I can’t read all of that right now.”

“Sign it or leave. It’s simple.” He stopped smiling, and now he’d picked up the papers and was holding them in his enormous hand, as if she’d lost the right to even look them over.

Faith stared at that hand, those fingers, imagined what they would feel like brushing against her skin, holding her. She would feel so small, so vulnerable in his arms.

She’d only gone all the way with one boy in her whole life. There had been other boys that she’d fooled around with, but only one real boyfriend. His name was Felix—a horrible name for a somewhat horrible person. Well, he hadn’t started off horrible. They’d dated through most of high school and he’d taken her virginity her senior year. They’d slept together on numerous occasions, but it hadn’t been anything to write home about.

Felix was skinny, taller than her but not very muscular, and his lovemaking had been somehow tepid. Not that she knew exactly what good lovemaking would be, but she’d seen enough movies, read enough books, heard enough girl-talk to know that it could be better than Felix’s three minutes of pumping and then falling on top of her, breathing hotly on her mouth as he climaxed.

Somehow, remembering Felix, a puzzle piece in her head felt as though it had clicked in. Just recalling the way he’d dumped her unceremoniously one day by Facebook message.

He’d been a terrible lay and a boring boyfriend, and yet she’d stayed with him for years.

Now, here she was in the presence of greatness, standing near a gorgeous hunk with sex appeal for days, and she was second-guessing it.

Why? How many better offers did she have at the moment?

None, that was how many.

“Okay,” she sighed, resolved to give Chase what he wanted—anything he wanted. “I’ll sign.”

Chase’s jaw shifted from side-to-side, as he looked her over, measuring her. “Don’t make me sorry I did this,” he told her, handing the papers back to her.

It was funny, Faith thought as she took the pages and laid them on the table and began signing them. She was the one who would most likely be sorry for having done it, and yet Chase was acting as though he was the person taking all the risk.

She didn’t understand any of it, and she certainly didn’t grasp the legal mumbo jumbo that her eyes glazed over as she tried to get a sense of what she was even signing.

In the end, Faith simply signed her life away, knowing that there never had been any choice for her. Sometimes you just wanted something or someone badly enough that you’d be reckless and crazy in order to have it—or him.

When the last page was signed, she put the pen down. “Well, I guess that’s it. Now what? Do we give it to your lawyers or someth—“

And then his lips were on hers, as if he’d been waiting for her to sign that one last page before he could take her in his arms.

His hands were on her hips, and they were as strong, maybe even stronger than she’d anticipated. His lips were soft in a way that she hadn’t noticed from the previous kiss—soft, but also greedy. His hands were greedy too, and Faith found that she liked his excitement. It fueled hers.

As his lips worked against her lips, one hand slid around her hip and started making its way to her ass. He pulled her body against him now, and then pressed forward until her butt hit the edge of the table, the legs of the table making a low squeal as it shifted on the hardwood floor.

“You taste so fucking good,” Chase said, as he pulled back and looked her over.

Faith found that she’d momentarily lost the power of speech. She’d never felt so turned on in all her life. If she’d been more bold and courageous, she would have started unbuttoning his shirt and sliding her hands inside to feel his skin, to know what his body was like without the clothing between them.

Those hard, dark eyes of his looked down at her, and they were truly hypnotic, like the eyes of some dangerous predator. There was no softness in his eyes, not that she could tell, but there was wanting and needing.

And to be wanted and needed by someone as exciting and sexy as Chase Winters was as hot as anything Faith could have imagined.

Hotter, in actuality. And realizing that, realizing that this truly was the quarterback of The New England Nationals kissing her, touching her, wanting her, she had to stop and take stock of the situation.

“What is this?” she suddenly asked, unable to simply continue without questioning what was going on.

Chase stared down at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I mean, this doesn’t make any sense,” she told him. “You could be with any girl right now, but for some reason you brought me over here. Why?”

“Because I felt like it,” he answered.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It’s going to have to,” Chase replied, leaning his hard body into hers. “Because I don’t do the twenty questions bullshit. Never have and never will.”

“I feel like maybe you’re messing with me for some reason.”

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, studying her face. “It’s pretty obvious what’s going on right now. Isn’t it?”

In a way, she supposed it was. She nodded, her cheeks flushing as between her legs moistened. He was pressing his hips into hers and she could feel it—hard, big, just like the rest of his body.

“I wish you’d just explain—why me?” she whispered, as he rocked against her again, stimulating her pussy so much that she closed her eyes and moaned.

“This is why,” he said, his voice low as his lips brushed hers and his hands reached up and grabbed her breasts. “Because it fucking feels good. That’s why I do everything I do, baby. Because I’m good at it and I like doing it.”

“You are…good…” she moaned, as he kissed her neck and massaged her tender, sensitive breasts with his strong hands.

His fingers, though large and thick, were incredibly knowing and supple. He instantly knew how to tease her nipples through her shirt, causing them to get stiffer than ever before—so stiff that they ached.

This is insane. I don’t even know him. What am I doing right now?

Part of her was certain that she was being totally irresponsible and crazy, but the other part of her simply couldn’t keep her hands off him. She was wet, she’d never been so excited, so desperate for anything in her life. Granted, she didn’t have a very large history to draw from, but still, she knew enough to realize that whatever this was—it didn’t come around often.