Page 54 of Kiss & Collide
She let out a snort of laughter. Sure he did. She had to admit she was enjoying watching him fling himself at the glass. There was something deeply soothing about dangling him on a string for a while. He deserved it.
A flare of deeply petty spite heated her chest as she typed out a reply.
What do you miss most about me?
Three dots appeared, then vanished, then started again. Finally he replied.
I miss your electric eyes.
And your honeyed mouth.
And the taste of your skin, like a drug.
She left him on read while he typed out line after line of lame song lyrics. That should keep him busy for a while.
“Okay,” the photographer finally called out. “I think I have what I need here, Chase. See you tomorrow.”
She pocketed her phone, still vibrating with Ian’s incoming texts, and went to join Chase.
He set down the prop helmet he’d been holding for an hour and stretched out his shoulders.
“That shit’s harder than it looks,” he groaned.
“The burden of beauty. Let’s get moving. Your date’s in half an hour.”
Upstairs, she swiped them into Chase’s suite. “Okay, you go get cleaned up and changed. I’ll let Cam know what your ETA is.”
She was typing out the text when she felt Chase slide an arm around her waist and dip his head to whisper in her ear.
“Or we do this first.”
He brushed her hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck. Her knees went wobbly and just for a second, she sagged back against his chest, wanting nothing more than to fall into the sensual oblivion he was offering. But sleeping with him just minutes before he met up with Madison felt shady as hell, even to her.
“Come on, Chase.” She pushed against the arm he’d banded around her waist. “You have a reservation.”
“You said this was a professional arrangement.” He slid his hand down to caress her hip. “Like a business meeting.”
“Yeah, but—”
“So sometimes people are late to meetings.”
“Do you know how hard it was to swing this reservation?”
“Violet, Madison’s not gonna care—”
But I’m afraid I’m starting to, her mind whispered to her. Something like panic welled up in her throat and she shoved herself away from him.
“Violet—”
She put several feet between them before she turned to face him, then pulled her phone out so she could focus on that instead of meeting his confused gaze. “Picasso is just downstairs. If you hurry, you won’t be late.”
“But—”
“Justgo, Chase.”
He heaved a sigh and threw his hands in the air. “Fine. I’m going.”
Once the bathroom door had closed behind him she shut her eyes and blew out the breath she’d been holding. Too close. He’d gotten entirely too close.
