Page 31 of Giving Chase

"Quite a party, Ms. Kerr," he says, his voice low and playful. "You really know how to celebrate a decade of putting up with us."

I turn to face him, unable to suppress my smile. "Well, Mr. Avery, you've made it worth my while."

The double meaning hangs in the air between us, filled with the electricity that's always there. Chase steps closer, his fingers brushing mine in a touch that's both innocent and deeply intimate.

"I have something for you," I say, reaching into my clutch. "A little token of appreciation."

I pull out a small velvet box and hand it to him. Chase's eyebrows raise in surprise as he opens it, revealing a stainless steel guitar pick. On one side, our initials "CA" and "EK" are engraved. He flips it over, reading aloud the words on the other side:

Through every chord and silence, I'm here.

Chase looks up at me, his green eyes intense with an emotion I'm afraid to name. "Eliza," he breathes, "this is... thank you."

Before I can respond, he's pulling me into a secluded corner of the balcony, his lips crashing into mine with a hunger that matches my own. I melt into him, propriety forgotten as his hands roam my body, familiar yet thrilling.

"My room," I gasp between kisses. "Now."

The elevator ride is torturous, the need to maintain appearances at odds with our desperate desire

As soon as my suite door closes behind us, the air changes. The playful tension from earlier crystallizes into something more intense, more urgent. Chase's eyes darken as they roam over me, and I feel my breath catch in my throat.

"Eliza," he breathes, my name a plea on his lips. He closes the distance between us in two long strides, his hands cradling my face as if I'm something precious, breakable.

The first kiss is soft, almost reverent. But as I thread my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, the dam breaks. Suddenly, we're a tangle of limbs and half-removed clothing, desperation fueling our movements.

Chase presses me against the wall, his lips blazing a trail down my neck. Each touch, each kiss feels like he's trying to memorize me, to burn this moment into his memory. "God, Eliza," he murmurs against my skin, "what you do to me... I've never felt this way with anyone else."

His words send a shiver through me, equal parts exhilaration and fear. I pull him closer, trying to lose myself in the feel of his body against mine. "Show me," I challenge, my voice husky with desire and something deeper, something I'm afraid to name.

What follows is a symphony of passion, our bodies moving together in perfect harmony. But it's more than just physical; there's an emotional intimacy that terrifies and exhilarates me in equal measure.

As Chase moves above me, his eyes never leaving mine, I feel exposed in a way that has nothing to do with our lack of clothing. It's as if he can see right through me, past all my carefully constructed walls, to the part of me that's always been his.

"Chase," I gasp, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. He seems to understand without words, his movements becoming more purposeful, more focused.

"I've got you," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "Let go, Eliza. I've got you."

And I do. For a moment, I let myself believe that this could be more than what it is, that we could have more than stolen moments and secret rendezvous. As we fall over the edge together, Chase's name on my lips and mine on his, I feel a sense of completeness I've never experienced before.

Afterwards, we lie tangled in the sheets, our breathing slowly returning to normal. Chase idly traces patterns on my skin, and I fight the urge to purr like a contented cat. The guitar pick glints on the nightstand, a tangible reminder of the unspoken thing between us.

"Eliza," Chase says softly, breaking the comfortable silence. "What are we doing?"

And just like that, reality comes crashing back in.

I tense, knowing this conversation was inevitable but dreading it, nonetheless. "We're celebrating a successful decade," I deflect weakly.

Chase props himself up on an elbow, looking down at me with those piercing eyes. "You know that's not what I mean. This... us. It's more than just our 'no strings' arrangement, isn't it?"

I sit up, clutching the sheet to my chest like a shield. "Chase, we can't... I can't..."

"Why not?" he presses gently. "Eliza, what we have... it's special. You have to feel it too."

I close my eyes, fighting back tears. Of course I feel it. How could I not? But the memory of two failed marriages looms large, and the thought of risking my heart – and potentially my son's stability – terrifies me.

"I do feel it," I admit quietly. "But Chase, I'm not... I can't be ready for that. Not even with you. Especially not with you."

The words hang in the air for a moment, and I can almost hear something snap inside Chase. His eyes flash with a sudden, fierce anger that makes me flinch.

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