- Home
- Audrey Carlan
Body (Trinity Trilogy Book 1) Page 2
Body (Trinity Trilogy Book 1) Read online
Page 2
Chase. Just thinking about him has my stomach in knots and my panties moist. Arrrgggghhhhh.
I flop down on the bed and stare at the ceiling in defeat. When am I going to learn how to control my fears? Doesn’t matter. I’m here to focus on my work with Safe Haven and that’s it. Though, maybe if I do unto others, eventually someone good will do unto me. Like someone tall with dark hair, ocean blue eyes, and warm hands.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
My cell phone buzzes on the end table, bringing me out of my reverie. It’s my roommate. Thank God!
“Ria! I’m so glad you called,” I screech into the phone.
“Mi Amiga! What’s wrong? You don’t sound like yourself.”
Maria De La Torre is one of my best female friends, and my roommate. We’ve been through hell and back and own matching t-shirts. Over the years, we’ve grown especially protective of one another. Her love and support got me through many nights full of tears and self-loathing. I’ve been her rock just as many times. Together, and with a great deal of therapy, we’ve learned to cope and be more open about our feelings. I’m still closed off, but there are a select few people in my world I trust. Maria is one of them.
“Girl, I met a man.” I sigh into the phone, disgusted with myself.
“So why do you sound like your dog just died?” She laughs.
“I don’t know. This man is different. He’s intense…” Intense is an understatement.
Maria sighs over the line. “Gigi, don’t tell me you met another bastard who just wants to get into your pants? I mean, you’re pretty bangin’ but you have to stop attracting these pedazos de mierda!”
I laugh. She thinks all men are pieces of shit. Useless. Her use of Spanish intermingled with English makes her incredibly endearing. It’s unique to her, and it’s taught me quite a lot about the language.
“He’s not like that. Well, actually I don’t know much about him other than he’s hot. When I say he’s hot, I’m talking movie star quality, People’s “Sexiest Man Alive” kind of hot. Women everywhere probably drop their panties without question for him.” He probably knows it, too. Smug bastard.
She giggles. “Nice. So are you going to?”
“Am I going to what?”
“Drop your panties for him, silly.” Her laughter gets louder, laced with a “duh” tone.
“No! I met him, had a conversation with him and then ran off. I completely embarrassed myself. I doubt he’d want to see me again.” It’s true. Besides, if he knew my past, he’d take that sexy suit wearing Superman body of his in the opposite direction.
“Cara Bonita, no. I’m sure you didn’t.” I cringe. She has always called me “beautiful face.” It’s her personal pet name. She busts out with the endearment when she feels I’m down or need encouragement. “Did he ask you out or ask for your phone number?”
A spark of hope glitters in the distance. “Well, yes, kind of. He gave me his business card with his cell phone number on the back. Asked me to call him.” Technically he did give me the card after the idiot behavior, so maybe he is interested. What does that say about him though? I acted like a complete wack-a-doo, but he did make an overture as if he was soliciting me. That was uncalled for too.
“See, obviously there was something there. Are you going to?” She sounds hopeful. “You deserve a little fun while you’re in Chicago. Besides, when was the last time you got laid, anyway?” Her question is rhetorical. She knows it’s been months.
“Ria! I just met him. You’re suggesting I fall into bed with him?” The girl has no limits. Though I can’t say the thought didn’t wiggle its way into my mind, especially when he loosened that silver tie, exposing a stimulating patch of skin.
“Yes, I am. You need to get fucked!”
I gasp at her crassness.
“You’ve been uptight lately. You said yourself he’s the kind of guy women want to bed. Just think about it. You’re young, mi amiga! Start acting twenty four instead of forty four.”
I sigh and blow out a long breath. “You’ve got a point. I’ll think about it. How ‘bout I call you tomorrow after my first board meeting. I’m going to head to bed so I can hit the gym first thing.” I yawn loudly, and realize I’m spent.
Maria really does have a point. I have been way too uptight. The last relationship I had, if you could call it that, was with Daniel, the wimp.
That’s unfair. It’s not really that he was a wimp. He was just too sensitive for me. Treated me like a princess and cried at chick flicks. I rarely cry. He was also really boring in bed. Only interested in the missionary position, never straying from the norm. He freaked out when I suggested he take me from behind. His shocked voice rumbled in my brain, “You want to be fucked like a whore, Gigi? Jesus, what’s wrong with you?” The thought of the jerk makes me ill. I need a man who knows his way around a woman. One who will excite me; make me come regularly without fearing being hurt. Daniel never gave me much pleasure, but he never once touched me in anger.
Ria’s disgruntled voice brings me back from my reverie.
“Ugh! You are always hitting the gym. Bree would be proud though. Me, I’m going to sit down and enjoy a fat dinner with Tommy. Things are heating up, and I think I’m finally going to get him to take me to bed!” she exclaims excitedly.
Watching Maria fawn over a man is completely new territory. Most men fall all over themselves to be near her, not the other way around. “Anticipation makes the experience all the better,” I remind her. “Enjoy the attention he’s lavishing on you. At least he actually wants to be with you, not just jump your bones.” I laugh and hear her frustrated growl.
“I want mis huesos jumped!”
“Good luck with that. Enjoy your dinner. I’m exhausted from traveling and its two hours ahead here,” I remind her with another loud yawn.
“Goodnight, Cara Bonita. Te quiero. Besos.”
“I love you too. Besos.”
I hook the phone to the charger and slip into a nightgown. After scanning my texts, I decide to do a mass text to the girls and Phillip. My other soul sisters will want to know I’m safe and sound in the Windy City. Phillip comes unglued if he doesn’t hear from me. One quick text to the group stating I’ll reach out tomorrow after the board meeting, and I’m ready to hit the hay.
I’m nervous about the day, never having been to a Board of Directors meeting for the Safe Haven Foundation. My hope is that I can impress them with my campaign statistics and fundraising accomplishments for the year. Closing my eyes, I slow my breathing, allowing jumpy nerves to relax. I fall asleep dreaming of Caribbean blue eyes and strong hands caressing me into oblivion.
Chapter 2
Heart pounding, muscles screaming, sweat slowly trickles down my back. My breath comes in harsh pants. I’m close, so close, just a little farther, and I’ll be there. Euphoria hits, and I push that extra bit harder, taking me right over the edge. Runners high. Sweet baby Jesus, it’s so good.
My feet pound against the treadmill, and I smile in victory. A loud whoosh of breath, almost a moan, escapes me. I close my eyes in pure bliss, relishing in the feeling of being completely alive.
“Incredible,” someone whispers behind me.
I’m startled out of my nirvana. My foot hits the rubber at a slant, and I’m falling. In a useless attempt, I grapple for purchase against the metal bars of the treadmill, but my sweaty fingers slip and my body flies backward. I tumble over myself, limbs flailing. Strong arms grip my waist and haul me off the machine. I’m crushed against a solid wall of hard muscle.
“Jesus, Gillian! You could have been seriously hurt!” Chase Davis’ worried eyes search my face.
I’m stunned into silence. I feel dazed and confused. My heart is pounding a mile a minute, legs weak and wobbly and my breath comes in huge panting gasps. I grip the skin of his back tightly, trying to get my equilibrium back. His right hand caresses my face, and his left firmly holds me around my waist. If he wasn’t, I don’t know that I’d have been able to
stand on my own.
“Are you okay?”
“Um, yeah. I think so.” I shake my head and bring my hands to his shoulders to steady myself. They meet naked, moist flesh, and my body becomes all too aware of just how close Chase is. Our bodies are plastered against one another. His stomach touching mine, skin to skin, as I take deep breaths. Every surface that’s touching him is warm, from his hard abdominals to his strong shoulders. Sweat trickles from his hairline, dripping down his neck. I want to lick that drop of sweat off just to see how he tastes.
Having his arms around me feels safe, as if nothing could harm me, not even him. It’s a feeling I’m unaccustomed to, but one I crave deep down to the depths of my soul. I’ve always believed those were feelings I would never, could never have, after what I’ve survived.
“Are you okay? You scared the hell out of me.” He continues to hold me while things around me slip back into focus. His thumb caresses my cheek and I look up into his eyes. I was not prepared for his level of concern, or the worry furrowing his brow. Maybe he’s not just an overconfident man with a pretty face and slick words. Begrudgingly, I realize that it’s a definite possibility that strong, dominant males don’t all use their strength to hurt others.
The pad of his finger sweeps my bottom lip. I gasp and his eyes go dark. He licks his lips. I feel his grip tighten around my waist and his hand presses against my back. He’s going to kiss me. Oh my God.
Frantically pushing away from him, I step back and hunch over to take in huge lung filling bouts of blessed air. I peer up and stand again.
His eyes question mine and a sly grin adorns his beautiful face.
The man was going to kiss me. I know it. Did I want him to kiss me? Hell yes! My mind screams. Then why the hell did I pull away?
As I come down from panic induced delirium, I finally notice him in all his glory. And oh what a sight. Glory, glory, hallelujah. Can I get an Amen? Wow. Just wow.
He’s wearing gray sweats, slung low on his hips, and nothing else. He bends and picks up the shirt he must have dropped when he caught me. His chest is bare, and I look my fill. He is in amazing shape. His shoulders and chest are large, strong, and all sinew and muscle. He has a perfectly defined V-shape with a trim waist and flawless abs. This man works out…a lot.
A smattering of dark hair below his belly button trails down and dips farther into his pants. Oh my, what I wouldn’t give to scratch my nails along that patch of hair dipping lower...
I realize he’s still waiting for a response, and I say the first thing that comes to mind, “You’re fine.” His shocked expression reaches my frazzled brain. “I mean, uh, shit. I mean, I’m fine.”
His laugh echo’s throughout the space, reminding me where I am. I scan the hotel gym. I’d be mortified if anyone else witnessed my not so graceful fall. It seems Chase and I are alone. Groaning, I walk over to the implement of my embarrassment and slap the “Stop” button more harshly than necessary. It comes to a screeching halt. Taking my frustration out on exercise equipment isn’t going to assuage my burning pride. I turn and place my hands on my hips in a defensive pose. Chase is leaning against one of the pillars next to us, his arms crossed over his chest. He’s completely at ease baring that golden naked skin.
His eyes fill with mirth to accompany that sexy grin on his smug face. It’s obvious he finds the situation funny, which irritates the hell out of me. And why the hell hasn’t he bothered to put his shirt on? It’s distracting. All I can think about is gobbling him up, starting at the delectable patch of skin slick with sweat right under his hip bone. When I’m done with that, I’ll drag my tongue across the wide expanse of his chest from his clavicle to his belly button and lower.
God I’m frustrated, sexually and mentally. Maria was right, I need to get laid. Makes his offer last night seem even more desirable.
I blow out a harsh breath and pull on my ponytail holder. My auburn hair falls around my shoulders.
Chase watches me like a hawk. His eyes tracking my clunky movements. I pull my hair back up, and sweep the length into a messy bun piled on top of my head. His eyes roam over my form, but he says nothing. His gaze is fierce, and he takes in every inch of me, from the bottom of my Nikes, up my bare calves and tight workout shorts, over my naked midriff to my sports bra, and back to my eyes. I tremble under his scrutiny. I wonder if he finds me lacking.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Gillian.”
I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “That’s very kind of you, especially considering my tumble moments ago.” Cringing, I look down at my feet. The Nike swoosh is suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.
In two strides, he’s beside me, cupping my chin, tipping my face up to his. Those aqua eyes are steely. “You need to learn how to accept a compliment.”
I nod, self-preservation instincts coming to full alert. When a man grips a woman, he means business. He searches my eyes once more and releases my chin. The hands at my waist clench into fists, and my gut churns. I’m about to high-tail it out of there when his thumb grazes my cheekbone lightly. Last time a man did that to me, it was to check his handiwork.
Breathe, Gigi. I promised myself I would start trusting men again. Start allowing them to touch me. Chase comes off domineering, but I don’t think he means to add an element of fear. My own insecurities crop up and twist beautiful moments like these into something they’re not. I force myself to relax and take a clarifying breath.
“Good. Now, I’d like to see you this evening.”
I tilt my head as my mind tries to make sense of what he’s saying. “You mean, like a date?” I watch him closely as the corner of his lips tip up. That small grin is lethal. So much so, I want to see it on his face again and again, preferably while naked.
He shakes out the tank top he is holding, adjusts it, and lifts his long arms over his head to pull it on. It feels like it happens in slow motion. I stare at his muscles as they ripple and stretch while he pulls the tank top over his wide expanse of chest. My body thrums, nipples growing erect and press tightly against the flexible fabric of my sports bra.
“You could say that. Unfortunately, I have a dinner engagement, but, after, I’d like to share a drink with you. I’ll send a car for you at 9:00 p.m.”
I’m still stuck on his body. “You work out a lot,” I say in awe.
His gaze pierces mine. “When I’m not in a relationship, the need to work out is exemplified.” He grins and my panties moisten.
I take a slow breath and lick my lips. “And when you are in a relationship?” Oh Gigi, you’re asking for it.
His large hand cradles my neck. I inhale and crane my head to the opposite side, offering the white column for his taking. The move is instinctual. Usually, I flee when a man puts his hands on me before I’m ready for it. His hand glides down my neck, over my shoulder, as his fingertips trail feather-light along my arm. The limb is thick with sweat from my workout, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Quite the opposite. Chase’s eyes are dark and hooded as they zero in on my mouth. His pink tongue barely juts out to wet perfectly plump lips. Gooseflesh spreads along my arm. His hand stops at my wrist, and he caresses the pulse point there slowly in a figure eight. Over and over. Eternity.
The action makes me twitchy, needy, and on edge. Chase likes to touch, and often. It’s not something I’m used to. He’s practically a stranger, but my body bows and arcs towards his as if it’s always known his touch. Traitor.
“When I’m in a relationship, I’m too busy fucking what’s mine to need to work out.”
Those words settle deep into my belly like a warm soup on a cold day. A new sheen of sweat breaks along my skin, heat building white hot within my core.
Does he want to fuck me?
No. Something deep in my conscious awakens to remind me of my goals. I’ve made a solid vow not to get swept away in a man again. Here I am, hanging on every word, every tilt of his perfect face, losing myself in his eyes. Jesus. This isn’t me. I’ve lea
rned my lesson. The past taught me that you can’t trust men; they are out for one thing and one thing only. Control. But what do I really have against sex? No, fucking. That’s what he’s after.
I’ve never been in a relationship that was just about physical needs. Frankly, it scares the hell out of me. What if he needs to throw me against a wall and take me against my will? Not a chance. Since the moment I met this man, my libido has been in overdrive. All I think about is what it would be like to be surrounded by this perfect male specimen. Consumed.
I know this is dangerous and he could easily break me, but, yet, I still want him beyond reason. It’s illogical. I’m officially losing my mind. Bat-shit crazy.
“Just a drink,” I finally answer his earlier request.
Chase’s smile at my agreement could light up a room. Perfect even teeth sparkle and shine under the harsh fluorescent lights of the gym. “I will send my driver promptly at 9:00 p.m. just outside the hotel lobby. Do not be late. I detest tardiness,” he admonishes. “As much as I’d like to stay and chat…” His eyebrows rise and he scans my body once more. He bites his lip. “…and look at your half naked body, I confess, I must go.”
Before I can respond, he turns and strides off, leaving the gym and a stunned redhead in his wake. I watch the exit long after he’s gone. Did that just happen? What is it about Chase Davis that continues to stupefy me? Is it as simple as being wildly attracted to him? Can’t be. A connection perhaps? My girlfriend Bree would tell me it’s the universe forcing us together.
I spend the next few minutes going over our two encounters again. My mind wanders as I enjoy the view from the windows overlooking the Chicago skyline. It’s breathtaking. This hotel provides for extreme luxuries. Patrons are able to view the entire city while they burn calories on a treadmill or elliptical.
“Too busy fucking what’s mine.” His words burn a path through my subconscious. What if I was his? The simple thought makes my belly go warm. I squeeze my thighs together to relieve some of the pressure building between them.