7. The Night We Met

CHAPTER 7

THE NIGHT WE MET

LORD HURON

Not having my phone for over four hours should drive me insane, but I’ve only thought about it when I wanted photos. It’s hard not to take pictures in this place. It’s a shame, too, because there’s been a few times I’ve caught our reflection in a mirror or picture frame and we look fucking sexy together. Even without the photos to prove it, I’m having the best time I’ve had in a long time. No one has ever taken me anywhere fancier than a damn Red Lobster. It doesn’t even count since my mother took me.

Chase has been like a kid in a candy store, buying us drinks at every bar, bouncing around from show to show, until we have to stop for our dinner reservations. He’s treated me like a princess from the moment I sat in his car, and something tells me this isn’t an act. This is the real Chase Cooper.

I’ve got a pang of regret growing in my stomach over not kissing him when I had him against the wall. I would have had to pull him down to my level, but it would have been worth it.

Sometimes I’m a little shy about food because I’m not a skinny girl and I can pack a steak away like nobody’s business. Some people find that off-putting, and I find those people to be boring and prudish. But Chase has me laughing and talking so much that I never cared about keeping up some bullshit appearances that a magazine told me about as a teenager. Half way through the meal, he even offered me a bite of his food and we ended up swapping plates. He ordered us dessert and more drinks, and I thought we’d never leave the table.

For a movie star, Chase is so down to earth and just…sweet. I expected him to have a high and mighty attitude given his place in this town. Instead, he only made me feel comfortable, as if I belonged right there beside him, rubbing elbows with elites.

“Here you go,” Chase hands me a martini glass as he sits beside me on a fancy bench. Since dinner, we’ve watched two more incredible magic shows, but we both need a break and I want to experience as much of this place as I can. “Before you ask, no, I have no fucking idea where he pulled that bowling ball from.”

“Oh my god, that was so crazy!” Everything about this place is breathtaking, the staircases, decor, and the number of famous people milling about should have all of my attention. But they can’t hold a magic candle to him. I’m not alone, either, because he keeps staring at me, too. Every time our eyes meet, we both smile and giggle until we can’t take anymore and we break eye contact, blushing. My eyes drop to my drink as I swirl it around a little and watch the glitter create a galaxy in my glass.

“What is it?”

“Uhm, passion fruit martini. I told the guy you said something fruity, he said they’re all the rage. I had him add the glittery stuff, because it’s mind blowing, like you.” He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, and I can feel his hands shake. He downs a huge gulp of his drink to fortify his nerves, and as he goes to set the glass down, I take it from him and steal a sip. The burn feels amazing, and his throat bobs as he watches me lick my lips. “I—I can get you one of those if you want one.”

“Nope, just wanted to see what expensive whiskey tastes like.” He’s watching me, staring at my lips as I sip my fruity glitter. “Do you want to try mine?”

He nods, but when I hand him the glass, he sets it behind him. His large hand slides up my cheek, caressing it gently as he moves his lips to mine. He tastes like fear and danger wrapped up in one delicious package. I’m left wanting more when he pulls away.

“W-why’d you do that?”

“I just wanted to know what you taste like.”

The room feels twenty degrees hotter, and I don’t remember my dress being so tight around my chest earlier.

His hands take mine even though our eyes remain locked on each other. “Will you dance with me?”

“Dance?” I glance around and I don’t see anyone else dancing. He nods. “Fuck it, why not? Let’s dance.”

Leaving our drinks behind, he takes me to a small side room with a roped off piano and a handful of people—none of which are dancing. He walks over to the empty chair at the piano, whispers something, and turns back to me, taking my hands.

“Irma is one hell of a piano player. Watch.”

I glance over as the music starts and see the keys being pressed by no one. I’m a science nerd, so I’m sure there’s a simple, logic-based explanation behind the trick. But for tonight, I don’t want to figure it out. I want to keep this magic alive as we sway, not caring about anything beyond the two of us and the ghost of Irma playing piano.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” he asks, reaching up and wiping away a tear I didn’t mean to shed.

“Uhm, I…I don’t know.” I try to laugh it off, but he isn’t buying it, so I try to change the subject. “I recognize this song from somewhere.”

“Yeah, it’s uhm, The Night We Met. I figured it would be, you know, appropriate or whatever. Too lame?”

“No. No, it’s…perfect.”

People might watch, they might break the rules and take pictures of us, but I don’t notice them because this man stares at me like I’m the only person in the room. Hell, in the whole damn world. No one has ever looked at me like that. It’s making me a tiny bit uncomfortable. But that feeling can’t compete with the soft glow of a crush I might have on him and the relentless beating of wings in my stomach.

“Chase, I… uhm…I’m a dominatrix. Sort of.” I spit it out so fast that I slap my hand over my mouth, wishing I could shove every word back into my stupid face. Now he’ll run, and I’ll be stuck crying in a cab on the way home. Shit.

His eyebrow shoots up, and he grins. “Okay.”

“No, I mean, like, I’m really a domme. Like, I go to clubs and tie people up and spank them and shit. Not like hardcore or anything, sometimes a lite bondage, and some kink exploration, but?—”

“Okay.”

“No, it’s not okay!”

“It’s not? Then why do it?” He’s not being cruel or joking around. He’s dead serious right now. How can he not see that this could end up an enormous problem?

“No,” I take a step away from him and instantly I regret it. “I mean, it’s not okay that I do that. I mean, it is for me, but not for you. You can’t be seen with someone who does that, Chase. The press would eat you alive. Shit, I ruined the moment with this, didn’t I?”

He reaches out and takes my hand, bringing the back of it to his lips as his eyes stay on mine. “Renate, I’ve let people tell me who I can and can’t be, or who I can and can’t date for a long time. It’s taken me a while, but I’m beginning to learn that I need to stop giving a fuck what people expect of me. Especially people I don’t care about. We’re adults, we can do whatever we want.”

“But the internet will find out and I do care what people expect of me. I’m a teacher, Chase! I teach children. It’s not appropriate and I?—”

“And you’re jumping fifty steps ahead, sunshine. Relax, we’re only getting to know each other, and I’m sure as hell not about to tell anyone.”

He cups my face in his large hands before leaning down to kiss me. This time, it’s not a taste, it’s not tentative or nervous either. This is deep and serious—more serious than his words let on.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” he whispers against my lips. I nod, still in a daze. He takes my hand, leading me down the stairs and through the winding hallways that have me turned around. We both laugh when he realizes he’s as lost as I am, but we’ve stumbled into an empty room.

He pins me against a wall and we’re kissing again, desperate, bordering on depraved as his hand slides up the slit in my skirt. The sound of someone laughing too loudly pulls us back to reality, and we giggle as we race the other way. I can’t help but think that I’d have no problem being lost with him anywhere.

He finds the exit, but before going through the door, he spins around and backs me into the same wall I had him against earlier. His powerful arms cage me in, although I’m short enough to slip under them if I wanted. I don’t. He licks his lips and smirks. “I don’t want to take you home yet. Bar or club?”

“Club. I want to dance with you for real.” His mouth slides over mine, teasing without kissing. In that instant, I know exactly how this night will end. We’ll fuck. It will be fun and just what we need to get this out of our system, but that’s all it will be.

Tonight will be the fairytale I remember for the rest of my life. The night I got to be the princess at the ball. Morning will come, the fancy car will become a pumpkin, and Chase will be a memory I’ll cherish forever while he goes back to his palace and a life I could never be a part of.

But for now, he’s right. I’m not ready for it to end.

* * *

Two hours later, we’re both exhausted and laughing at stupid jokes as we fall into a booth in the VIP section of whatever club we’re at. I’ve never been here before, but Chase knows his way around. The giant security guy who could be a pro wrestler keeps the curious away from the area as we make out like teenagers. I grab for the bottle of water on the table, downing half of it before handing it to Chase. As he drinks, I check around before I climb into his lap, straddling him. The empty bottle falls next to us somewhere as I grab his face and crash against his lips while I grind against him. His hands slide up my thighs, squeezing my ass as he moans into my mouth. I love a man who makes noise during sex.

I stop, but instead of pulling away, I move my mouth over to his ear. “Chase, are you a good boy or a bad boy?” I ask before I take his earlobe between my teeth and gently bite down. He grabs my hips, pressing his fingers into my skin and leaving bruises that I’ll remember him by tomorrow. He rocks me back and forth on the hard bulge in his pants, and the friction feels sublime.

“I’ll be whatever the fuck you want me to be. Just let me be inside you?”

“Not here, Chase.” I lean back, letting my finger drag down the buttons on his black shirt. “Take me to bed.”

I squeal when he stands up, literally taking me with him. He’s staring at me again with that look that says there’s no music, no people, no club—only us. He’s about to carry me out, but I make him put me down. So far, we’ve evaded the paparazzi and gawkers, but that’s harder to do when he’s drawing attention to us.

We’re almost to the stairs when he pulls me back for another deep kiss, his hand cupping my breast and squeezing. I am fucking soaked for this man, and I can’t wait to get him in bed. If he had his choice, we wouldn’t wait for the bed.

“Fuck, you’re delicious, like fucking sunshine,” he slurs.

“You can’t drive. You’re drunk.”

“Shit, yeah, you’re right.” He straightens up and gives me a dopey smile. “I can get us a ride share, or a hotel, I guess.”

“Or you could give me your keys.” I narrow my eyes, expecting him to balk at the idea of me driving his Jag like most men would. He pulls the valet ticket out of his wallet and hands it to me like it’s no big deal. He doesn’t even ask for the keys when we get to the car, just holds the door open for me and goes to the passenger side like this is standard for him.

This car is worth more than my damn salary and he’s trusting me with it after one night of dancing and magic?

“Fucking valet bullshit,” he mumbles as he gets in, immediately leaning over and kissing me again. His tongue slides over mine and he whimpers. He fucking whimpers! His hand snakes up my leg and the tip of his finger rubs against me. “If we were in a parking spot, I’d have my mouth between your fucking legs right now. God, you’re beautiful.”

“Okay, drunky. I gotta drive now before they start to get pissy. And I can’t do that with your hands all over me.”

“Okay.” He pretends to grumble as he sits back and smiles at me with a big, dumb, gleeful grin. He’s far too adorable for this world. “Let’s go home. My place. I’ve got all kinds of shit at the house to keep us busy all night. Pool table, pool, dogs. The only thing missing is you.”

I should say no. I mean, I haven’t known him for more than a few hours, but I knew the second we kissed, I would go home with him. Why shouldn’t I have a little fun? Like he said, we’re adults. “Alright, but only for the dogs.”

“The dogs? Well, what if I get on my hands and knees for you, sunshine? Maybe wear a little collar and wag my ass, all for you.”

“Careful, you’re writing checks that your dick isn’t going to cash when you’re this drunk.”

He slumps his shoulders and turns away, staring out the window. He isn’t angry, but I’m not sure, and looks can be deceiving. I don’t know him. I don’t know his demons. I don’t know what makes him tick or if he’s going to turn into a Jekyll and Hyde situation. For all I know, he takes women home to brutally murder them before burying them in the backyard or feeding them to his dogs. It’s Los Angeles. Anything is possible.

I check the clock and see it’s already after midnight. Even if I don’t have school tomorrow, I shouldn’t be watching the sunrise with Chase Cooper. But god, do I want to.

“You gonna tell me how to get to your place?”

“Call me that name again.”

“Chase?”

“No, the one you called me earlier, at the Magic Castle.”

“Puppy?”

He smirks and turns on his GPS before taking a strand of my hair and twirling it in his fingers. “I like it when you call me that, sunshine.”