Page 17 of David's Chase

“You want to keep it a secret,” I say.

She looks up and gives me a crooked smile.

“Isn’t that the whole purpose?”

I nod.

“Yes, it is. I hope you’ll use it, though. I don’t want you on the streets or riding the bus.”

I add a hint of humor to my voice, and she laughs, carefree. I don’t remember a time when I was so enthralled with a woman.

A time when I would find every facet of her existence mesmerizing.

A piece of life I would love to hold on to.

For a second there, I dive deep into my memory, searching for a moment like this.

The kind of interest a woman stirred up in me was usually limited to the physical pleasure we conjured up in bed.

Curves and lines and planes. Eyes and lips. Bodies rubbing against each other.

I was never mystified to the point where I’d gape at someone, feeding myself on each and every one of their words.

Her hair tips brush her nipples, and I’d love to have my fingers on them as well, cupping and kneading. See the wonder in her eyes and listen to the gasps and moans rolling off her lips.

I’d love to remove her jacket, peel off her dress, and bury my face between her legs.

The thought makes me grow hard, and I furtively adjust myself.

“That must be a hell of a phone call so early in the morning,” a husky voice beaming with amusement says, inches away from me.

I instantly tap the End button and slide my phone into my pocket.

James’ steps must’ve trailed the corridor for a while, yet I didn’t hear a fucking thing.

I shoot my eyes to the side and watch James nearing me, his suit jacket draped over his broad shoulders, his hands tucked in his pockets.

The flames of embarrassment lick my cheeks despite looking at him with a straight face.

It’s not even that he had caught me––did he see her anyway?Did he see her? Or did I give myself away by adjusting myself?

Did he hear her voice?

“Sometimes they can’t help themselves,” I toss at him in the most believable player voice I can muster.

“Tell me about it,” he says, a grin curving his lips. “You need a ride?” he asks, and I freeze like a teenager.

He stops.

“David?”

“Oh. Sorry. I was thinking about something else.”

“What time is your flight?”

“Two hours from now. No, I don’t. I need to grab some things and get ready.”

I tilt my head in the direction of the Casino, fully aware I make no sense.

---