Chase (Chase #1) Page 2

  I didn’t think he was right, but in a way, I thought maybe he was, though I’d never tell him that. I wasn’t all that exciting, at least in bed, anyway. I’d never tried many positions; I’d mostly just been on my back, and I’d never had wild sex, which Cosmo told me I had to try at least once in my life. I’d never experienced a night with no inhibitions, no boundaries, and most of all, no regrets. I guess I just hadn’t really found the right person to do that with. I wasn’t a slut, so I wasn’t going to corral one of these passing guys into the corridor and ride him like a valiant steed, and I wasn’t going to just give it up to any man who might message me on RandomMeetX. I’d like to think that I was classier than that.

  I picked off a piece of my doughnut, pushing it into my mouth as my jaw unhinged like a hungry anaconda trying to swallow its dinner. I looked at the clock on the wall in front of me, seeing I still had a massive amount of time left, and sat back in my chair, letting out a sigh, and let my head fall back, trying to get through the day so I could go home.

  Just as I had let out a second sigh, my phone buzzed, catching my attention. I picked it up with my greasy doughnut fingers and opened RandomMeetX.

  “Ur so sexy baby. Ever been wit a guy wit a big dick?” the guy asked.

  Wow, just wow. I looked at the guy, his hand flashing some ridiculous gang sign. He had a cheap, wrinkled bandana wrapped around his mouth like he was about to go rob a train on horseback. Messages like this were what made me start to lose hope not only for my dating life, but also for humanity.

  I hit block on the user, aptly named thuglyfe223, and was taken back to the message screen, where the wink from Chase still sat, untouched. I opened it, seeing a big, red, rather obtuse wink button on the screen, with a green message icon next to it in case you were more into the direct approach. My thumb hovered over the wink button, the large, blood red button twinkling like an oasis in the middle of the desert. I was so close, within arm’s reach, but what if it, and him, turned out to be just a mirage?

  Like a gust of wind barreling through the hallway, I slammed my thumb against the red wink button, and a confirmation popped up on my screen. I took a deep breath, looked around the room to see if anyone noticed my embarrassment, and locked my phone, slipping it back into my purse, which hung on the back of the chair next to me.

  I did it. I’d taken a chance on a guy who I wasn’t even close to sure was real, and I did it without any real hesitation or inhibition. Yeah, I liked to tell myself that.

  I sat for a couple minutes, watching the people rush by on their way to class, since a new one was about to start, before my phone buzzed again, seemingly an instant after I had last picked it up and locked it. I never got things this fast. Maybe it was just my mom asking what I wanted for my upcoming birthday. She liked to do that sometimes.

  I took out my phone, unlocked it, and saw that I had a message awaiting me on the app. It couldn’t be…no, it couldn’t be, there was no way. It was probably another gangbanger or guy who lived with twenty cats in his mom’s basement. There was no chance in hell it was that Chase guy, especially already. A guy like that doesn’t live with his phone.

  I opened the app, tapping my fingers against my thigh as it slowly loaded, since my signal was low in the student center, before I was taken to my inbox and saw the incoming message sitting there. It was from him…from Chase. I was struck both with flattery and trepidation, thinking this guy had to be fake. That picture, that profile, a fast reply that could rival any teenager. It all screamed fake…but for some reason, I just had to open the message.

  I clicked on the new message, opening it, seeing what scam he was going to try to get me to click on. I saw an article online about people using these dating apps to get people to send them money or to hack their accounts so they can steal their bank information.

  “You have the most exquisite eyes. The depths of blue from which they stem make even the most tropical of waters look dull and bleak in comparison.”

  What?

  No link to a website asking me to sign up? No offer of sex that he says is the best I’ll ever get? No mention of a twenty-inch cock that wants to be stuffed inside me? Just a sweet, romantic, incredibly flattering message that made my heart skip a single, solitary beat? There was no way this could be real. I must have been dreaming.

  I read the message what must’ve been ten times, and each time it sank in more and more, each time my brain starting to realize it was real and I wasn’t dreaming.

  As the little cursor blinked on the screen, waiting for my response, I sat there and thought long and hard about what to say back. I didn’t want to seem desperate or needy, but I didn’t want to make him think I was some uninterested girl who could take him or leave him either. I definitely wanted him, and after seeing that message and that hard body pushing through his suit, I wanted him in more ways than one. He didn’t look like the kind of guy you’d have any regrets with.

  I wiped my greasy fingers, crumpled my scratchy brown napkin, and put my fingers against the screen, starting to type out what had to be the best reply in the history of dating app replies.

  “Thank you, you’re sweet. I’m Alexis.”

  Chapter Three

  Chase

  Sometimes my cock is hungry and needs to be fed.

  Like a chained monster waiting to be fed by its master, RandomMeetX delivers the food that my cock so desperately craves. I’m not always in control of it, but when I am, you can be damn well sure that what happens next will be extraordinary.

  My phone buzzed not too long after I sent my message. The girl on the other end, Alexis, thought I was, as she called it, sweet. I laughed at that notion, imagining her sitting there, taking in everything I had to say, eating it up with a golden spoon. I guess nobody ever told her not to drink the Kool-Aid—my Kool-Aid.

  I didn’t correct her, deciding not to tell her I wasn’t all sweet. There’s a core to me, a crass and sour core that leaves a bad taste in your mouth if you crack it open. I built that core after years and years of getting that bad taste thrust into my mouth, left there to fester and multiply with no regards to my suffering taste buds.

  “I’d love to take you out sometime and get to know you. Maybe tonight?” I replied, hitting the tantalizing, glowing green send button.

  Before I could get any work done, as if I had her around my finger and waiting for more, she replied not two minutes after I had sent my proposal.

  “Yeah, that sounds great. Just let me know when and where,” she said.

  I smirked. A beautiful, trophy-worthy fish was caught on my line, ready to be reeled in and pulled onto my rocking boat. I replied with the name of a restaurant, a romantic little place a friend told me about, and told her to be there at eight, and not a minute later.

  Brian made reservations for us, dropping my name so that the super exclusive restaurant, whose reservations list went six months out, knew to save me a table. I might not have been famous to the public eye, but I still got all of the perks, and I mean all of them.

  The day cumbersomely wore on. My meetings were packed like a deep freezer and there were a couple incessant phone calls from Nigella that went unanswered, like they usually did when she came to my office with her fruitless demands. I liked to make her sweat things out. That was how I got my way with her. Like she’d ever find another record label that could even give her half of the things we’d given her. Good luck, honey.

  •••

  I left the office at exactly 7:35, giving myself just enough time to get out of downtown and into West Hollywood, where the restaurant we were meeting at was located. I put the top up on my little sports car, deciding to keep my freshly minted hair in place, the slick strands of pomade-laden hair not moving even a millimeter out of place as the air blew out of the front-facing vents in my cockpit.

  I pulled up to the restaurant, where the valet was waiting outside, the little men running around to greet me and take my untamed stallion of Italian engineering to an enclosed pen
where he’d have to wait for me to gallop away later tonight. I planned on driving home with two, naturally.

  “May I take your car?” the valet asked with a heavy accent.

  “Make sure to take good care of it,” I said, dropping the keys in his hand.

  He nodded, not making direct eye contact, as if my car screamed my status and net worth, which we both knew he’d never amount to. I adjusted my tie, a crisp, sharp black one, and walked up to the front door, past the line of unimportant people waiting, and I noticed them all looking at me, trying to guess who I was. It was great to be king.

  A man, a worker, I presumed from his outfit, opened the door for me and I walked through, looking around, before I made my way to the maitre d’ stand, which was occupied by a man with a thin mustache and slicked back black hair.

  “Name?” he asked, looking down at his book.

  “Chase,” I replied in a strong, deep voice.

  He perked up, quickly looking up at me, before he clapped and a woman hurried over.

  “Mr. Chase, we are so happy to have you this evening. We have reserved only our finest table for you and your guest. We hope you enj—”

  “Is she here?” I asked, cutting him off, as I fiddled with my cufflinks.

  “Oh, yes, we directed her into the lounge with a complimentary drink, of course. If you’d like, we can go and get her,” he said.

  “I would prefer to myself, if you don’t mind,” I said, looking at him with a straight face.

  “Of course, sir, that is no problem at all! Please, if you would follow Allison, she will take you there,” he said.

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  Five-foot-one, tight ass, pulled back blonde hair, and a California tan that could rival any valley girl. Those were the characteristics of Allison, my concierge and tour guide for this evening. If only I weren’t on a date, I’d put that tight ass to work.

  “Here is our lounge. If you see—” Allison said.

  “There she is,” I said, walking towards Alexis, who sat in a brown leather chair with gold rivets with a small mahogany table next to it.

  “You must be Alexis,” I said, catching her attention.

  She looked at me wide-eyed, like most women, before she swallowed the sip of her drink she was taking when I approached, and stood up.

  “Hi, you must be Chase,” she said, extending her hand.

  “Yes, I am,” I said, gazing into her eyes with a stern look, the same way I greeted my company’s competition that we wanted to squander.

  “May I direct you two to your table?” Allison asked.

  “Yes, that would be great, Allison,” I said, carefully gazing at Alexis, giving her my visual attention.

  She had dressed up more than she had in her pictures, but even with the better clothes she still wasn’t what I usually went for. No real cleavage pushing out, her skirt only to her knees, not far above them like I liked, and her makeup wasn’t exactly screaming Beverly Hills hooker. Maybe it was a good change of pace, this. Sometimes you need to taste a different cuisine to cleanse your palate, and believe me, I planned to have a five-course meal tonight.

  I pulled out Alexis’s seat, a smile laced across her face, before she sat down and scooted herself in. I walked over to my seat, unbuttoned the middle button of my suit, and sat down. Allison set the black leather-bound menus in front of us. The table was far away enough from the crowds of other tables while still having other people around, so we weren’t totally secluded. We were near a window, and a small pond was outside, the dim mood lights shimmering on the koi-filled oasis.

  “So, am I like my pictures?” I asked.

  “Yeah, you are, surprisingly,” she said.

  “Surprisingly?” I asked.

  “I just didn’t really know if you were going to be real, you know? I’ve met a lot of losers on that app, and some of them play tricks in their pictures to make themselves look better than they do in real life,” she said.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that you’ve been with guys who don’t tell you the truth up front,” I said, taking a sip of ice water.

  “This place is really nice. Have you been here before?” she asked.

  “If you’re asking if the food is good, it is. The very best in town,” I said.

  She scanned the menu, looking all over, the elegant typeface and confusing ingredients likely making her brain scattered. She looked like she was trying to figure out what the hell dishes like foie gras were. With my menu open, I scanned her, checking her out, doing what every man secretly does with a woman the first time they meet. It was just that this time I wasn’t as subtle as I usually was.

  “You look very pretty tonight,” I said.

  “Oh, thank you,” she said, looking up and smiling at me, her cheeks turning a soft, rosy shade of pink, clearly visible even under the dimmed lights.

  She looked back down at her menu, biting her lower lip subtly, though just enough for me to see. As far as I was concerned, I was in. Damn it, Chase, you’ve done it again.

  “Hello, my name is Armon, and I’ll be your waiter this evening. May I start you two off with some drinks from our world-class bar?”

  “I’ll have a scotch on the rocks, tall,” I said.

  “I’ll have a glass of your house wine, please,” Alexis said.

  “Red or white?” the waiter asked.

  “Uh, white,” she said, looking a bit puzzled.

  “I’ll put that in and be right back. Please take a chance to look over our menu, and if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask,” he said with a courteous smile, before walking away.

  “So, what looks good?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. I think this Parmesan-crusted tilapia with the white wine cream sauce on a bed of noodles looks pretty delicious. I don’t really ever get to have fancy stuff like this, so it’s all a bit overwhelming compared to a cheeseburger and fries,” she said.

  “Oh? The men you date don’t take you for nice dinners?” I asked.

  “Not unless the drive thru value menu is your idea of a nice dinner,” she said, laughing.

  “Well, then, it looks like you’ve never been with a real man. It’s a good thing you’re going to experience one tonight,” I said.

  She shifted in her seat, though she didn’t look uncomfortable, before she set her menu in front of her, closed, and Armon came back with our drinks.

  “Have you two decided on what you’d like this evening?” he asked.

  “She would like the Parmesan-crusted tilapia. I’ll have the steak with fennel and chive mashed potatoes,” I said.

  “And how would you like your steak?”

  “Rare,” I said.

  “Got it. I’ll get that in right away and have it out to you shortly,” Armon said, before he picked up our menus and walked away.

  “So, what made you sign up for that app?” Alexis asked.

  “I’m sorry?” I asked.

  “Well, you just seem so…great. You dress very nicely, you’re incredibly handsome, and you obviously have some kind of money, how much I don’t know and don’t need to know. You’d think that you’d be able to find someone to fall in love with, settle down with, have kids with, you catch my drift,” she said.

  “And what if I don’t want or need all of those things? Not everybody is cut out for it,” I said, swirling the scotch around in my glass.

  “Just sounds kind of lonely to not ever have those things. You almost sound a little jaded, like you’re reserving that part of yourself maybe because of past experiences,” she said.

  I swallowed my sip of scotch, licked my lips, and looked her square in the eyes.

  “I can assure you that’s not why,” I said.

  “Well, whatever the reason is, I hope you change your mind one day for someone,” she said.

  “And why’s that?” I asked.

  “There’s something about you, a vibe you give off, that makes me think you’d be a great husband and father. You might have that play
boy Casanova look and attitude now, but I think under that hard exterior there’s a big pile of goo that’s loving, caring, and kind,” she said.

  “Good luck cracking my diamond exterior to get to it,” I said, trying to keep my composure.

  Her words and diagnosis infuriated me. She was assuming things about me and my life, trying to tell me what I was essentially doing wrong with it. I wanted to yell at her, scold her and tell her to mind her own business. But in a weird way, I sort of enjoyed it. She spoke her mind, and I could tell she was a spitfire, not just here, but in every way.

  Even though I liked it, I wasn’t going to regret not speaking to her after tonight.

  Chapter Four

  Alexis

  The man sitting across the table from me was an enigma. He was calm, yet aggressive, sweet, yet a dickhead, and most importantly, he turned out to be real. I almost didn’t want to believe it when he came up to me in the bar, standing over me with his imposing shadow eclipsing the dim light of the room. I didn’t understand him, but at this moment, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

  Our dinner came, and the plate my dish came on was so crisp and white that I thought I needed sunglasses to look at it. It was perfectly prepared and plated, not a drop of sauce or a shaving of cheese out of place. The fish was laid out on a bed of what looked like seasoned pasta, and I got no offering of salt, pepper, or more cheese. Looking around, I realized that this wasn’t the type of place where you asked for more toppings or seasoning. It was a little too upscale for that.