He chuckles, and I chastise myself for my reaction, which comes in the form of hardened nipples. “That’s too bad, princess. I find a good fight to the death can be quite…arousing.”
I’m glad he’s still behind me so he can’t see the deep blush I feel creeping up my throat, burning on my cheeks and pulsing between my legs.
I clear my throat, and he chuckles again, knowingly.
Stomping my foot, I spin around, preparing to face my enemy and be brave, stand up for myself. But that bravery waivers when I’m met with the bright green stare from my dreams. I still, mesmerized by what I see there. Depravity. Lust. It’s chilling and erotic at the same time, and I’m not sure what scares me more, the fact that he’s looking at me like I’m his next meal, or the yearning to offer myself to him on a plate. Either way, it touches me in a way that makes me want to experience what it would be like if he were actually touching me.
“Something wrong with your pretty tongue?” he asks with a smirk. He rakes his gaze down my gown to where my chest is bulging from the corseted top with my angry breaths.
I shake my head and cross my arms over my chest. I stare down at my shoes, then realize my error and chance another glance at my enemy. “No. There’s nothing wrong with my tongue.”
He lifts my chin with his fingers, and again our eyes meet. “Good. It would be a damn shame.”
On instinct I lick my bottom lip, and Chase groans. The sound vibrates within my chest. He leans in closer, and I’m a statue as his lips graze my jaw and then nip at my earlobe as he speaks. “I’ve dreamed of what that pretty tongue is capable of.”
I gasp, and my entire body heats with both rage and desire.
“So, I see you two have met?” My stepmother asks, her Dior gown sweeping the floor as she floats over to us and flashes her biggest, brightest smile at Chase, batting her eyelashes. She’s trying to flirt or appear girlish, but it only makes her appear as if she’s in the beginning stages of a stroke. Of course she’s being friendly. Chase’s family has more money than God.
She looks between us and frowns, and I realize she’s awaiting a reply.
“Uh, yes, we’ve met before actually,” I reply, trying not to look affected while still feeling the heat of the blush.
Chase straightens as if nothing has taken place between us. He smooths his black shirt with his hand, drawing attention to the outline of muscle underneath. My mouth waters. While every other man here is wearing a tux or a suit, he’s dressed in an all-black button down tucked into well fitted black pants. He’s casual, and yet with his posture and air of confidence, he appears to be the most formal and well-dressed of them all.
Chase doesn’t bother pasting on the usual fake smile people tend to use when my stepmother is near. He looks unaffected at best. He takes a half step between us as if blocking me from her view, knowing I need a moment to compose myself after he just assaulted my every thought and feeling with his wicked words.
“Regina,” he greets flatly. His lips are tight, and I can’t tell if he’s irritated that she’s interrupted us or if he doesn’t care for my stepmother. “I’ve actually known Neve since elementary school. Although, I can’t say we were exactly friends. We are…acquainted with one another.” His eyes rake over my gown slowly. “We were just reconnecting.”
Anyone listening would think his sentence formal and making small talk, but I hear the innuendo in his voice as much as I feel it. But this too must be a product of my imagination, because if Chase wants me, then why would he try and take over my father’s company? Or maybe he’s one of those bored rich kids and this is all a game to him.
Suddenly, it’s as if all of the oxygen in the room is being sucked up, and I can’t breathe.
“Excuse me, I need some air,” I announce, spinning on my heel.
“Wait,” Chase calls out, tugging at my wrist.
The skin he’s wrapped his large hand around feels as if it’s burning. I look down to where he’s touching me, then back up to him but he doesn’t release his grip.