Page 19 of Body

A knock on the suite’s door breaks the spell. I pull tightly against his body, startled by the intrusion. Anger flicks on like a switch as Chase gives me one last deep kiss, grinding his erection into my parted thighs. “Soon,” he grates through clenched teeth. He unfurls my leg lock from his waist, helping me to stand against the chair. His gaze sweeps over my bare legs, up his shirt, and to my swollen lips. It’s as if he’s cataloguing every facet of my body. “You’re perfect wrapped in me,” he says seductively.

I lean stunned against the chair and so completely turned on I can hardly function. That orgasm earlier felt like a tiny miniscule appetizer to a feast of pleasure Chase is sure to provide. He picks up the towel he’s dropped and wraps it back around his waist to answer the door. I want to hiss and boo at the loss of seeing his beautiful body.

“She’ll be ready in an hour,” he says to someone, but it’s muffled. He saunters back into the bedroom. “Jack is going to take you to the station in an hour for your statement. He will bring you back to the hotel.” I open my mouth to suggest I can take a cab and he stops me. “Don’t argue with me. This is non-negotiable.”

And that is that. Discussion over. He enters the closet and pulls out his suit. I throw the scrub pants from last night back on but keep his shirt. It’s nice having something that’s Chase on me right now. I have to go. I need time to think, to process everything that’s happened. Last night and this morning. Trying to cope through a mind filled with lust is not doing me any favors. Grabbing my dirty clothes, I venture to the open bathroom door where Chase is at the mirror fixing his hair. The dark layers fall into place as he burrows his fingers through it.

“I’m going to my room to get ready. I’ll meet Jack downstairs.” He nods and fiddles with a black textured tie around his golden neck. It lies crisply against the stark white of his dress shirt. His dark charcoal suit brings out the grey flecks in his eyes. He’s meticulous in his movements, concentrating on putting on his cufflinks. They are small, dime sized circles with a black onyx gem, the sphere lined by silver plating. “Text me when you’re finished.” His eyes find mine in the mirror, the look almost pleading. His genuine concern makes me nod.

As I’m about to leave, I remember the question I forgot to ask last night. “Hey, why did you pick vanilla, emerald and popsicle as the three words you wanted me to remember?”

He grins wickedly and comes to walk me to the hotel room door. Jack is filling a giant lounge chair in the sitting room, watching as Chase holds open the door. He gestures for Jack to follow me and I realize this is going to be my new friend for the day. Chase is not letting me go anywhere alone. Since I’m still shaken, having protection isn’t all together uncomfortable. Jack does look like one scary guy.

“You really want to know?” I nod and his smile shows all his pearly white teeth. In a husky voice, dripping with innuendo, he says, “You, Gillian, smell like vanilla.” He leans down and inhales loudly before kissing my neck. “That’s the scent I want surrounding me when I look into your emerald eyes as you suck my cock as if you were eating a popsicle.” He chuckles. I know my eyes have to be as wide as dinner plates as my chin drops and my mouth gapes open. “You asked.” He laughs.

Jesus, he paints a sexy, elicit image. Then I realize we’re not alone and my gaze jets to Jack. He has the good grace to look away, a grin plastered across his square face. Heat fans across my cheeks. Chase grabs my shoulders and hauls me against him. He plunders my mouth, giving me a taste of his minty freshness and something uniquely Chase. My knees feel weak and wobbly when he lets me go.

***

After I dress, I call Taye. He’s upset that I didn’t call him last night to come to the hospital. I explain that Chase came. Quickly, I detailed the oddity of Chase helping me by telling him they found his business card in my jacket pocket from the meeting. The nurses called him, not Taye. It seems reasonable, and, technically, it isn’t a lie. He says he will touch base with Mr. Davis at the board meeting, and hopes I feel better after making my statement and resting.

Jack escorts me to the police station. The visit is horrifying. A wide array of delinquents and degenerates from all walks of life are being dragged around the facility. Even though I get a handful of stares and disgusting grins, none of them dare approach me. Jack, the “Tank”, snarls like a possessive dog would, protecting its owner when men look my way. The bodyguard must have instructions from Chase, ones he takes very seriously. The big guy doesn’t leave me alone, not even for a minute.

The officer takes me into a quiet room and Jack follows, standing in the corner watching everything without making a sound. I don’t have much to offer. My attacker came from behind, held me immobile, and then knocked me out. Nothing to see. There is little hope of getting back my belongings or finding the man who attacked me. I express my fear that my attacker has my address and personal information. The officer is less concerned because I live in San Francisco. My attacker is in Chicago, over two thousand miles away. The thought makes me feel a bit better. Not much.

When all the “I’s” are dotted and the “T’s” crossed, Jack ushers me to the waiting car. I’m happy he didn’t drive the limo today. That would have felt outlandish at a police station in downtown Chicago.

I take out my cell phone to type Chase a text message.

To: Chase Davis

From: Gillian Callahan

Statement made. Nothing more can be done. On my way back to hotel.

My phone dings with a message before I can put it back in my pocket.

To: Gillian Callahan

From: Chase Davis

Are you okay?

Those three little words make my heart jump. In the span of two days this man has become something more than the Chairman of the Board of Safe Haven. Much more. I need time away from him to figure out just how much, as well as sort out this strange connection we have. Home. That’s where I need to be. Then it dawns on me. How the hell am I going to get home without my driver’s license or identification? Worry trickles along the edges of my tired mind.

To: Chase Davis

From: Gillian Callahan

Worried about how I’m going to get home without ID.

I lean my throbbing head against the seat rest and pull the pain medication from my briefcase. It’s all I have since my purse was stolen.

“Here’s a bottle of water, Miss Callahan.” Jack hands me a bottle over the seat. I take it and smile at him in the review mirror. He doesn’t return the gesture.

To: Gillian Callahan

From: Chase Davis

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