Page 120 of Prey Tell
I open and close my mouth, a sly smile creeping up on my face. “Maybe? Like I said, it’s all a blur. Remind me of what happened, please?”
He laughs. “It was a perfectly enjoyable evening. I could tell you were tired, so when the server came to our table, I ordered one of everything. And I’ll never forget the look you threw at me. It was pure outrage. You kept saying you were looking at the pesto pasta, and before I could explain, you went into a diatribe about how you weren’t raised in a barn and how you didn’t need me to mansplain the menu to you,” he finishes, smirking.
I put my face in my hands. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. That sounds like something I would say.”
When I lower my hand, Chase reaches out and takes my hand in his. “It’s fine. I didn’t take offense back then. As a matter of fact, I’d ordered you an extra serving of the pesto pasta without you knowing. And you were so tired that you fell asleep on my shoulder before dessert.”
I bark a laugh. “No wonder I drove you crazy.”
His thumb sweeps over the back of my hand, and he starts to rub small circles on my pebbled skin.
“Not in the way you think,” he says slowly, looking at me through his lashes. “You were wearing this small, purple dress that barely covered your perfect ass, and I grumbled something to you about how the dress was too small,” he starts.
I smile. “You were always complaining about my clothes.”
“Oh, I loved the clothes, Parker. Too much.”
My stomach drops and something hot flashes through me at his words. He continues.
“Your hair was wavy. Back then, it was shorter, and you had it tucked behind both ears. I was mesmerized. It was the first time I could see myself with you—kissing your delicate neck, running one of my hands up your decadent thighs,” he murmurs, his eyes darkening. “You started fighting with me, and I was so fucking hard,” he admits.
I laugh. “You were?”
He nods. “And then you fell asleep on my shoulder, and all I could smell was you. I carried you to Jackson’s car, and I remember not wanting to let you go. I wanted to carry you all the way back to the castle and keep you there forever.” He looks down. “Miles jokes that I’m a dragon guarding his golden hoard when it comes to you, and I’m now realizing how much I’ve always wanted to keep you for myself.”
“So what took you so long?” I ask, my body heating under his gaze.
“You were off limits. Simple as that. And Jackson is my best friend. I didn’t want to jeopardize it.”
“Why did you, then? At the engagement party—at your apartment… the castle…” I trail off, everything sparking inside of me each time his thumb brushes a new circle on my hand.
His lips twitch, and he gives me a lopsided smile. “You wore me down.”
I scoff. “Right. I wore you down. Because pinning me against the desk at my engagement party wasallmy fault,” I chide.
He throws me one of those heart-stopping smirks. “I never said I wasn’t attracted to you. I’ve always wanted you, Parker. In more ways than one. It was a matter ofwhenmy resistance would snap.” My chest is rising and falling with each breath, and I feelso hotunder his scrutinizing gaze. “I suppose it was always a matter ofwhen.And I think, deep down, we both knew this would happen eventually. I certainly hoped it would, though I never could admit it out loud.”
My heart is racing as he continues smirking. “Chase,” I start, feeling the emotion beginning to bubble up inside of me. “I—it was the same for me,” I finish. “I never stopped thinking about you. And I think…” I trail off, closing my eyes briefly.What if I tell him that I might love him, and he doesn’t feel the same way?
“Parker,” he growls, and my eyes snap open. “Stop overthinking things. I’ve been waiting eight years for you. Toloveyou. Don’t you think it’s about time someone did it properly?”
I open my mouth to reply, but just then, the server walks over with our first course. It’s fresh tomato pasta with burrata, butter-fried sage, and flakes of parmesan. My mouth waters. I look up at him, my skin tingling.
I’ve been waiting eight years for you. Toloveyou.
“Eat,” he commands, using a spoon in one hand and a fork in his other to twirl his pasta.Yeah, he definitely took etiquette classes.“You need your energy. I don’t plan on sleeping tonight,” he adds, giving me a commanding, pointed look.
Oh.
I eat slowly, savoring the taste of the burrata, and watching Chase eat—though I’ve seen him eat numerous times—is foreplay all on its own. He eats elegantly, in a way only someone like him can. His eyes don’t leave mine as he takes another bite, daring me to say something snarky. But I don’t—I just watch him, soaking it all in. Studying the silk threading of his suit. The gold signet ring. The long fingers as they hold his utensils. The subtle scruff along his jaw. The way his throat bobs when he swallows. The dark-blue ring around his light-blue irises.
I’ve been waiting eight years for you. Toloveyou.
“You’re staring,” Chase teases, smiling as he eats his chocolate cake.
I push my plate away. I’ve only taken two bites of the decadent cake, but I am stuffed. Chase’s eyes flash when I place my hands in my lap.
“Come here,” he directs.
