Mingle All the Way

by MIA HEINTZELMAN

  “Right.”

  The oven beeps indicating the oven is the right temperature. Chase quickly washes and dries his hands. “I’m listening,” he says as he slides the cookie sheet into the oven and sets the timer.

  “Long story short, in person, the conversation ended up being just as shitty as his fake picture. So, she excused herself to the restroom to call me, right? But while I’m on the phone with her, he enters the women’s restroom and proceeds to force himself on her while I’m freaking out on the phone.”

  Chase’s shoulders tense as he pivots to me, searching my eyes, but he doesn’t interrupt. We’re both leaning against the edge of the sink facing each other.

  “Luckily, another woman came in behind him, which distracted him long enough for my sister to knee him in his junk and escape. But all I ever think about is what if that woman hadn’t showed up? What if he’d had his way with her?”

  My throat clenches at the thought. It still feels like a knife to my heart. My sister was assaulted, and I was helpless to do anything. The same fear flares in my gut leaving me raw with emotion.

  With a warm and welcoming smile, Chase opens his arms. “Bring it in.”

  I laugh through my tears.

  It’s such a strange sensation because I don’t hesitate or come up with a million reasons why not to. I sink into his embrace, resting my cheek to his hard chest. I’m wrapped in his clean, warm scent, and it feels better than I remembered. We don’t say anything, we just stand there with his arms banded around me.

  He peppers soft kisses in my hair slowly lulling the wretched memory back to the dark corners of my mind.

  When my tears subside, the urge to explain overwhelms me.

  “She’s why I’m at Lovestruck,” I explain. “It’s not just women either, everyone is vulnerable. It’s why I want to introduce more safety features on the app, whether it’s enabling location, adding distress alarms, or even a button to notify emergency contacts. We have to be purposeful about the real dangers people face when they meet up. We can’t possibly know everything there is to know about our users.”

  I pull back from his embrace and register the empathy in his beautiful blue eyes. “I get it,” he whispers sweetly, but it’s his heated stare that electrifies me.

  His gaze drifts from my eyes to my lips, lingering for a dizzying beat. Desire radiates between us sending heat curling down my spine. My breath catches.

  Then the doorbell rings, saving me from myself.

  He closes his eyes for a second, letting his shoulders sag at his sides. “Hold that thought. Pizza’s here.”

  As Chase takes wide strides to the front door and digs his hand in his back pocket for his wallet, I blow out a relieved sigh. I bury my face in my hands. My heart pounds against my chest because I know I’m fighting a losing battle. Now that I know Chase isn’t a player, my reservations are more about him getting hurt in the fallout if Spencer ever learns the truth about us. Also, I shouldn’t like him as much as I do.

  If I had any sense, I’d leave now.

  We’re both two slices in when Riley plops back on the couch and sighs. “I’m full.” She laughs and groans. “I should’ve gone home first and changed my clothes because these pants and Italian food don’t mix.”

  “So, what I’m hearing you say is, no Christmas cookies for you.” I flash her a playful grin. I love this easy banter, but I wish we could go back to the moment right before the doorbell rang.

  Something changed…shifted. For a few minutes, I got to see behind her carefully constructed walls. She let me in.

  Riley sucks her teeth, slouching into the crease of the couch. “Oh, I may have to lose a button, but I will not be passing up on dessert.”

  On the television, sharp piercing music plays as the zombies of Final Tombs close in on the heroine. Riley is curled up behind a throw pillow she’s been using to shield her eyes, but she just looks so uncomfortable.

  I take a bite out of another slice and stand to take her empty plate, flashing her a quick smile. “Want some sweats and a t-shirt?” I ask as I walk away into the kitchen.

  Shit.

  It’s just a simple gesture, but immediately I wonder if I shouldn’t have offered. After everything she told me about her sister, I don’t want to assume anything.

  Riley doesn’t answer right away. It’s silent save for the heavy breathing of zombies, but then she surprises me when she says, “Sure.”

  I glance over at her and there’s apprehension and questions in her eyes I’m not sure I can answer. How did we get here? Are we really doing this? Is any of it real? I want to tell her I’ve been here all along waiting for her to notice me, that I take the long way around to my desk just to see her eyes, and how beautiful I think she is no matter how she wears her hair or which black suit she chooses.

  Instead, I fill a plate with cookies, set them on the coffee table, and go to grab clothes for her, eager to put some space between us so I can think straight.

  A few minutes later, Riley questions me from the bathroom while she changes. “So, what’s your story Chase? What are you doing at Lovestruck?” Riley asks. “Web development and IT are like the most sought-after fields.”

  Pointing the remote at the television, I lower the volume so I can hear her. “It’s a good gig. Pays well… Also, I get to leave work at work.”

  The bathroom door creaks open and Riley walks out, drowning in my clothes. Fuck. The way the fabric hangs off her lean curves, breasts, and her ass... My dick twitches.

  “Better?”

  “Oh my gosh, yes. I can breathe.” She’s glowing and radiant as she gives me a twirl before plopping down next to me on the couch. “About the job, if those are your reasons, you’re obviously not challenging yourself. I mean, what drives you every day?”

  She twists to face me, curling her knees to her chest, but she doesn’t speak. She’s waiting for me to fill in the unspoken blanks.

  “Fine.” I close my eyes and let my head rest on the back of the couch. “It’s nothing as horrific as what your sister went through, but, don’t laugh… I wanted to be in an environment where I could learn about love.”

  I peek over at Riley. Her brows furrow, but her expression is more curious than anything.

  “My parents were married forty years before my mom died of pneumonia—complications with cystic fibrosis. My brother, Todd, seems to have found his person, and I mean, I’ve dated, but it always feels superficial, slightly like an interview.” I laugh. “This is going to sound really cliché, but I want to know about “the real thing.” Lovestruck just felt like a place close to home to find some insight.”

  When Riley doesn’t immediately say anything, I tilt my head to the side again to look at her. She bites her lower lip, and her eyes are misted over.

  “There’s nothing cliché about anything you just said. It’s beautiful.”

  Then, Riley lowers her legs, crawls over to me, and straddles me. My breath hitches at the feel of her. Silence stretches between us for a beat before I slowly, carefully, sit upright. Our faces are a breath apart as she levels me with a pleading stare. I know she needs to make the first move, so I wait.

  Desperately.

  My skin tingles. Every inch of my body throbs and aches with the need to feel her touch.

  Please let this be real.

  My heart knocks around in my chest. The anticipation is killing me. I don’t mind handing over the reins as long as it’s Riley who’s wielding them.

  “Put your hands on me, Chase.” Her breaths come fast and shallow, and I feel her fighting it.

  I slide my hands under ass, centering her over the hard proof of how much she turns me on. Even though she feels like a dream, everything about this moment is real. She’s flush against my chest, and still I wait. “Tell me what you want,” I whisper.

  “I want you to kiss me,” she says, and I feel so privileged that she wants me, too.

  I comply slowly. The kiss is sensual and sweeping with, exploring tongues
and roaming hands. There’s a sweetness and lightness that sends warmth surging through me. I like Riley, but I could so easily love her.

  We’re being so careful with each other’s hearts. We’re mindful of every amazing nip and painstakingly slow lick.

  My pulse quickens as desire percolates between us. I’m lost in her warm vanilla scent. A growl pries its way out of me.

  She moans and I tighten my grip on her ass in response.

  “I want this,” she says between kisses. Her tone is low, breathy, and almost sheepish, like she’s saying it to herself.

  I scoot to the edge of the couch and stand upright holding her, “Are you sure about this?”

  Her answering kiss is all the permission I need. In quick strides, I carry her with her body molded to mine to my room and lay her onto the bed. The blankets shroud around her as I slowly glide the sweatpants off her one leg at a time before lifting the T-shirt up over her head. The sight of her bright-red bra and panties set coaxes a growl from me. Every inch of her rich, dark skin is smooth and flawless and begging to be touched.

  My breath catches at the masterpiece of feminine curves and shadows. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  Heat pools in her hooded eyes.

  As if the sight of her pliant body lying in my bed wasn’t enough, she dips a finger in her mouth and begins sucking it as she tugs at the waistband of her panties, slowly dragging them over her hips.

  I step backward to get a condom from my nightstand, too afraid if I turn away, she’ll be gone when I look back. It feels like a dream to have Riley in my bed. I’m blindsided with lust as I remove my shirt and pants, aching to be inside her.

  As she shimmies free from her panties and lets her knees hang open, I have to hold my breath not to come. My breaths come fast and shallow as I kick off my boxers and roll on the condom in supersonic speed.

  A ghost of a smile plays on her lips.

  “Don’t make me laugh right now,” I say. “If I even sneeze, I’m going to come.”

  The sweet, musical laugh Riley lets out echoes off the walls. “We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” She’s biting back a grin and my heart skitters.

  I close my eyes. “Just be cool. Just let me think about football or polar bears or something.”

  Riley doesn’t hold back this time, she’s bent over with laughter. “Come here, you fool.”

  “Please stop laughing. Do you have any idea how sexy your laugh is?” I feel her warm laugh all over my skin. “Not to mention, this is sort of embarrassing.”

  The next thing I know Riley’s yanking me down on top of her, planting kisses all over my face. She reaches between us and encircles her hand around me, stroking for a few seconds before centering me against her sex.

  As I grip her hips and bury myself inside her, her slick folds open around me, and every sensation in my body heightens. A shiver of pleasure washes over my skin, and every nerve ending stirs and tingles. The feel of her sweet, hot sex taking me whole only makes me crave her more. I lick my lips and close my eyes. A shift near my heart echoes of the longing whispering through me.

  I’ve dated and tried other women on for size, but the fit was always wrong. Riley and I have only been playing these roles for a couple of weeks, and I’m already anchored in her space, grounded by her presence. How can she feel this good? How did I get this lucky?

  The sweet whimper that spills from Riley’s full pillowy lips pulls my insides low and tight. It’s imperative for me to taste her moan and feel her lips crushed beneath mine as I move inside her. I vary my strokes from hard and fast to slow, then glide out to the tip. We’re both breathless, and our rhythm in sync. Again. Fast, slow, thrust hard and deep. Pull out to the tip only to do it all over again.

  Riley moans and arches her back, baring her throat to me. I glide my tongue down the delicate column of her neck to the swells of her breasts, licking and sucking until her nipples are hard in my mouth. She clenches her thighs around me. Her hands are on my neck and in my hair, her hips winding me up as I plunge deeper. She opens wider, and I pump harder, faster until her muscles go taut. Her lips part, and her body is wracked with shivers and quakes. She gasps for air, falling fast and taking me with her.

  As we lie there, our chests rising and falling in succession, I still don’t know how we got here or if any of it is real, but I can’t help but feel, maybe, just maybe, this time she let go.

  Chapter Eight

  The next day, I don’t think about what a sadist I am for loving every heated second of last night and this morning. I’ll worry about Monday on Monday. In the meantime, Chase and I do my favorite activity…activities. We stay in bed all Saturday morning being lazy, moving only when necessary for sex, food, and the occasional bathroom break. I’m like a kid on Christmas Day.

  Speaking of, since it’s less than two weeks until Christmas—one week until the holiday party—the movie marathons are in full force. We both prefer classic American comedy horror films that masquerade as holiday movies, like Gremlins, as opposed to the sappy ones where the people need to save the—fill in the blank—business, church, theatre, ski lodge. But, somehow, I feel more merry watching them with an amazing man who happens to know where to put his jingle bells.

  And his southern mistletoe kisses.

  “What are you thinking about?” Chase asks as he tugs on a pair of jeans.

  I’m sitting on the foot of the bed grinning ear to ear because I’ve finally submitted my presentation to Spencer. Other than staring lasciviously at Chase Campbell, now known as sex god, showering and brushing my teeth with a toothbrush from one of his Costco bulk packs, I can’t do much else. There are no cute Secret Santa outfits for me in his closet, so I’m watching The Holiday, living vicariously through Cameron Diaz, and watching her one-night stand with Jude Law turn complicated.

  I’m right here with you, girl.

  “Now I’m finally getting into the Christmas spirit,” I say.

  On the television, the ad for Bianca’s Snowball Jam flashes across the screen with bold red and white themed script.

  “Yeah?” Chase’s voice is gruff and throaty like he’s spent the night, and the better part of the day, filling up my frequent shopper sex card. “May I ask what sparked this new appreciation for all things merry?”

  I peek over my shoulder at him and bite my lower lip because shirtless Chase may be a new world wonder. We do not have time for another round. “Oh, you know, just some office tryst with a hot coworker…”

  “So, you think I’m hot?” He flashes me that cocky half grin that did it for me in the first place. My pulse races and already the dull ache between my thighs escalates to full throb. He must see the heat in my eyes or hear my playful growl because he stops mid-zip on his pants. “You’re sure we have to go to this thing? If you ask me, Secret Santa parties are overrated. You buy a nice gift and inevitably come home with someone’s perverted idea of a gag gift that you have to keep another year to regift.”

  “All this sensible, practical talk.” I wave my hands playfully. “It’s a turn-on, so just stop, or we’re never going to get out of here.”

  I flop back on the bed.

  Chase, I’m quickly learning, is never one to back away from a challenge.

  “Buying toothbrushes in bulk saved me almost ten dollars.” He shrugs and climbs onto the bed, softly brushing his lips over mine. “I also subscribe to Consumer Reports to get the best deals on appliances, vehicles, and other large purchases. Should I start talking about interest rates?”

  We’re definitely going to be late.

  One more round of sex and two hours later, after stopping by my house for me to change and then at a convenience store for two holiday boxed wine sets, we’re finally at Darrell’s. The instant the door opens, Chase and I are whisked inside where it’s jam packed and stadium-volume loud. We’re stripped of our coats and immediately given a peppermint flambe shot to get us “into the spirit” as Darrell says.

  Then we’re turned loos
e into a throng of our coworkers in ugly sweaters—missed the memo on that one. I scan the crowd, but I don’t see Nina yet. Thankfully, I haven’t spotted Jessica, either. The tension in my shoulders eases slightly.

  Chase leaves me for a few seconds to take our wine boxes to the gift table then he comes directly back to my side like I’m his protector. He twines our fingers and dips his chin toward my ear. “Don’t leave me.”

  I chuckle, following his line of vision. “Are you afraid Evelyn and Renee are going to corner you under the mistletoe?”

  Just as I say their names, my two least favorite marketing girls glare over at us.

  “Ooh, we are pissing them off big time,” I say, glancing around the room, unwilling to give them the satisfaction of a reaction. I’ll bet it really burns them up that I have the audacity to be with Chase Campbell. What could he see in a girl with faux locs and all these silicone-free curves?

  Suck it, ladies.

  Chase squeezes my hand. “I have a few ideas how we can really make them jealous…”

  I peek up at him and giggle. “Try to contain yourself for a few hour—”

  He cuts me off with a kiss. His lips crash down on mine, hungry and ravenous as he dips his tongue between my lips. “Fuck, that dress,” he groans into the kiss as he tugs me flush to his body, his hands groping dangerously close to my ass.

  In this short dress, that’s a no-no.

  I’m breathless when we pull apart. As much as just being near Chase electrifies my body, we are among people we have to see every day at work who also like to run with the slightest inkling of gossip.

  “Bro,” Craig bellows loud enough to drown out “Jingle Bell Rock.” “Relax. We’re going to get the gift exchange going here in a bit. Why don’t you come help us out with these beers?” Asshole. As if he’s crisis management, he turns his patronizing tone and douchey face to me with his palms pressing the air. “Riley, are you going to be good if he leaves you for a few? I know it’s hard. My boy is a fucking stud.”