by Zoe Chant
Remember. Remember all the things he is. Womanizing, dishonest, fickle, flighty, unreliable…
Unfortunately, there was one other thing that he undeniably was:
Gorgeous.
Connie folded her arms, trying to conceal the traitorous rise of her hormones by giving Chase a withering glare. “Why are you here, Chase?”
“I told you.” Chase plopped himself down her bed, lounging back against the headboard and looking infuriatingly at home. “I'm going to fly your plane.”
Connie stared at him. “No, you most definitely are not.”
Chase spread his hands, palm up. “Well, if you want I could co-pilot while you fly it, but to be honest I think we've got better chances the other way round. You're a much better navigator than I am, after all. I haven't had a lot of experience in doing that sort of thing. And I bet you've been studying the race course for at least a month already—”
“Chase,” Connie cut across the babble. “Start at the beginning. What on earth are you talking about?”
“I talked to Sammy. He wouldn't drop the bet entirely, but I made him stick to the literal words of the agreement he made with your dad.” Chase's white teeth flashed in his feral smile. “The bet's on the plane, not specifically on your dad flying it, you see. So now everything will be fine. We just have to win the Rydon Cup together, flying your plane.”
Shoving Chase's feet out of the way, Connie sat down heavily on the end of the bed. “We just have to win the Rydon Cup. Right. One question. Are you completely insane?”
“What?” Chase looked wounded. “You know how I fly.”
“Like God Himself gave you the wings of an eagle,” Connie said through gritted teeth. “And the brains of a hummingbird.”
“That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me,” Chase said, grinning. “Well? Come on, Connie. You and me. We can do it. Together.”
Connie pinched the bridge of her nose, thinking it over. Much as every fiber of her being screamed NOOOOOO! at the thought of Chase even sitting in her mother's plane, let alone flinging it across the sky, she had to admit that he was a ridiculously fast pilot. Not a good one—he was far too cavalier about little things like 'air traffic control' and 'the ground' for that—but she'd be sitting right behind him in the co-pilot's cockpit. She'd be able to take over control if he got too reckless.
Maybe they really could do this together.
“All right,” she said reluctantly. “It's a terrible, crazy, ridiculous idea. But I don't have a better one. Are you up to date with your license? How often do you fly?”
Chase's mouth quirked. “You'd be surprised. But the type of piloting you mean… pretty frequently. I fly the service helicopter when we need air support putting out fires. And I've got a plane of my own that I try to take up on a regular basis. Every week or so, usually.”
Connie eyed him suspiciously, but couldn't tell if he was lying. “I'm surprised you find time, what with the firefighting as well.”
Chase's eyes darkened, his expression turning uncharacteristically serious. “Whenever I flew, it made me feel closer to you. Knowing that you were up in the same sky, even if I didn't know where.”
I am not going to fall for him.
“Well, I'm glad to hear you've been practicing,” Connie said, determinedly ignoring his intense gaze. “We'll go up in the plane together tomorrow. I'll teach you the quirks of the controls. I warn you, it won't be like anything you've ever flown before.”
A quick, private look of amusement flashed across Chase's face. “I think you'll find I'm a fast learner.”
“I know you are. When you actually decide to listen.” She jabbed his muscular leg with her finger. “I'm serious, Chase. If you're going to get behind the controls of my mother's plane, then you'd better be serious, too.”
“When it comes to you,” Chase said, all traces of laughter sliding away, “I am entirely serious.”
The heat in his dark, intent eyes made an answering warmth spread through her. It was like he was a magnet, pulling the compass of her soul out of alignment. She knew, knew, that he was a cheating playboy, and yet she couldn't help but want to throw caution away and fly straight into his arms.
She stood up abruptly. “Good. In that case, I'll see you tomorrow. Good night, Chase.”
He remained sprawled across her bed.
“I said, good night, Chase.” She glared at him. “That means it's time for you to leave. Now.”
“Ah, well.” Chase folded his arms comfortably behind his head. “I'm afraid I can't do that.”
Connie rolled her eyes. “Chase, you live in this city. There is no possible way you are going to convince me that you don't have somewhere to go.”
“I do. A very nice place. Much nicer than this, if you don't mind me saying so.” He sat up, swinging his feet off the bed. “In fact, why don't we go back there now? I'd like to show you my roof garden. You can sit in the hot tub and look out at the sea, and—”
“I am not going anywhere with you. And you are leaving. Now.”
“I really, really can't,” Chase said firmly. “Considering that Sammy Smiles has already put your father in hospital, I can't take the risk of leaving you alone.”
Connie folded her arms across her chest. “I can take care of myself.”
Chase's jaw set. “I mean it, Connie. I'm not leaving your side.”
“And I'm not having you staying at my side every moment until the race,” Connie retorted.
Chase's roguish grin flashed again. “Good. Because actually, I'm planning on sticking with you for a lot longer than that. Something like forever.”
Connie threw up her hands in despair. “Look, if I have sex with you, will you finally agree to just leave me alone?”
The words slipped out from her unbidden, fuelled by a combination of exasperation and attraction. She hadn't meant to say it.
But it did mean she had the pleasure of finally seeing Chase Tiernach completely, utterly, and absolutely lost for words.
“Well?” Emboldened by his stunned silence, Connie took three steps back toward him, planting herself right between his knees. “Come on, Chase. You and me, right here, right now. Get it out of your system, so you can finally get over me.”
So I can finally get over you.
Chase swallowed, hard. “Connie, we… please don’t tease me. You don’t understand what you mean to me.”
“I’m not teasing.” Throwing common sense to the wind, Connie ran her fingertips up Chase's bare forearm, tracing the rock-hard swells of his muscles. “Don't tell me a playboy like you doesn't always carry around a condom or two.”
“Actually, I don't.” Chase said hoarsely. “So—”
“Well, I'm on birth control anyway, so as long as you'll take my word for it, it's not really a problem. In your line of work I assume you have to have a clean bill of health, right?”
Chase couldn't have looked more stunned if she'd walloped him across the back of the head with a two by four. “Yes, of course, but…. you can't actually be serious?”
“Why not? We're both consenting adults. There's unfinished business between us, so lets finish it, for once and for all.” Connie started undoing the buttons of her top. “Then we can both move on with our lives.”
Chase's hand closed around her wrist, stopping her mid-motion. Connie could feel the contained strength in the grip. He was shaking, ever so slightly, as if it was taking immense force of will to hold himself back.
It felt wonderful to make someone else be the sensible one for once.
“Don't do that,” he said, something dark and primal roughening his voice. “Not unless you really mean it.”
Connie met his black, heat-filled eyes, and discovered that she really did.
“This is a one-time offer, Chase,” she said. “Take it or leave it.”
With a low moan, Chase pulled her down to him. The last vestiges of Connie's better judgment burned away at the first touch of his lips on hers. Chase kissed her despera
tely, as if she was the air he needed to breathe. Connie kissed him back with equal fervor, three years’ worth of pent-up desire finally bursting free.
Chase's hands skimmed her thighs and hips, exploring her curves. Connie abruptly needed to feel those agile, sensitive hands on her bare skin. Breaking the kiss, she tugged her top over her head in one swift, impatient movement.
Chase's breath hissed between his teeth. His arms tensed, holding her away from him so that his hungry gaze could devour her, savoring every curve of her exposed body.
Then he actually closed his eyes.
“Connie,” he said hoarsely. “If you want me to take this slowly, I'm going to need a second.”
“You've never in your entire life taken anything slowly.” Connie tried to press closer to him, but his rigid arms were like iron bars. “And for God's sake, Chase, don't start now!”
Chase let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-growl. Then, before Connie had even registered the movement, he had her bra off. She gasped as his mouth closed fiercely over one breast, even as his hands flashed downward to undo the button of her jeans. She closed her eyes, surrendering herself to the glorious sensation of Chase's tongue flicking and circling her nipple.
Chase yanked down her jeans and panties. He made a low, feral sound, deep in his throat, as his strong fingers grasped her butt. Then, somehow, she was on her back on the bed, the last of her clothes falling away. Chase's agile hands and expert mouth seemed to be everywhere at once—teasing her nipples, sucking at her neck, exploring her wet, eager folds.
“Oh,” she gasped, as his long fingers slid into her. “Oh.”
She threw back her head, fiery pleasure sparking through her. His mouth was hot on her breasts, his teeth nipping at her skin with barely-contained passion. She wound her limbs around him, her hands tangling in his shirt, his jeans rough against her bare legs as climax overtook her.
“More,” she demanded, when she could speak again. She tugged at his shirt, desperate for his body naked on her, in her. “Now, Chase!”
She felt his lips curve against her breast. Then he was gone, the air suddenly cold on her flushed, sweaty skin. She propped herself up on her elbows to watch greedily as he unbuttoned his shirt.
Though they’d briefly dated, all those years ago, she’d never let him get this far before. Now she was finding out what she’d been missing.
Her breath caught at the sight of his broad chest and lithe abdomen as he pulled off his shirt. Every muscle in his body was sharply defined, shaped and honed to perfection by the tough, physical nature of his job.
Chase bent over to strip off his jeans, revealing his slim hips and tight ass. Then he straightened, turning.
“Holy shit,” Connie couldn't help yelping.
He was hung like a fucking horse.
From the quick, pained smile he flashed her, she guessed she wasn't the first woman to have second thoughts when confronted with his frankly intimidating erection.
“Do you want to stop?” he said, his voice shaking with raw desire. The swollen head of his enormous cock was already glistening with eagerness.
Connie very nearly said “Yes,” but her body had its own ideas. No matter how much her brain screamed that he was just too big, her pussy demanded that long, wide shaft.
Powerless to resist, she spread her legs wide.
Chase needed no further invitation. Before she had time for second thoughts, his hard body was on her, his mouth capturing hers. His tongue slid between her lips, claiming and possessing her even as the thick head of his cock pressed at her entrance.
She gasped at the incredible feeling of his shaft stretching her wide. He slid slowly but unstoppably into her. She'd never imagined that she could take so much.
His rock-hard girth simultaneously caressed every part of her most sensitive inner areas. Her entire world narrowed to nothing except him as he thrust steadily, relentlessly into her.
Chase paused. Connie could feel him shaking, fighting to control himself. He filled her more than she could have dreamed possible. She balanced on the very brink of orgasm, only needing one last push to fly away.
His dark eyes were filled with raw, animal need, but he held himself still. “Connie,” he said huskily.
The way he said her name held an unspoken question. In answer, she clenched around his impaling shaft.
With a heartfelt groan, Chase thrust forward a last incredible inch, finally filling her utterly. Connie was pushed over the edge, free-falling into waves of pleasure.
His strong hands seized her hips as she writhed. He withdrew and thrust, again and again, harder and harder. His breath came in great ragged gasps as he lost all control at last. He strained, burying himself deeper in her than ever, as if he was trying to make them one body, one soul.
Connie dug her fingers into his hard, muscled back… but even as she pressed against him, a tiny part of her kept a wary distance. In the middle of the storm of ecstasy, a single, simple thought remained at the center of her mind, like the calm eye of a hurricane.
I am not going to fall for him.
Chapter 6
Chase came back to himself slowly, as if spiraling down out of the sky to land. He could feel Connie's heartbeat against his chest, her pulse beating in perfect time with his own.
Our mate! In contrast to his own lassitude, his pegasus pranced in triumph, unable to keep still. Our mate! We pleased her, we won her, she chose us! Our mate!
Chase let out a soft, amused huff of laughter at the stallion's shameless pride in their own prowess. He pressed his face into the junction of Connie's neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. Her flushed skin held an intoxicating trace of his own scent now. She smelled like the sky, like sex, like everything good. He could have lain there forever, breathing her in.
His stallion snorted impatiently, flicking its tail. Up, up, swiftly! Back to the nest! Finish it, mark her, make her ours forever, ours alone. Our mate!
“So.” Connie shifted underneath him, pushing at his shoulder. “That happened.”
“Mmm,” Chase agreed. He reluctantly rolled onto his back to let her up. “It certainly did.”
She wriggled out from under him. Chase put his arms behind his head, admiring her lush, glorious body with lazy pleasure as she started to hunt for her clothes.
“And now we've got it out of our system.” Connie's voice was muffled as she pulled her top back over her head. “So we can forget this and move on.”
Chase laughed. Then, abruptly, he stopped. “Wait. You're serious?”
Connie turned to face him, hands on her hips. “I told you. One-time sex, just to settle things. And now that you've gotten what you wanted, you have to go.”
All his languid contentment slid away as he sat bolt upright. “Connie, no!”
“Leave, Chase!” She threw his clothes at him. “That was the deal, remember?”
He raked his hand through his sweaty hair, staring at her in utter dismay. “Yes, but—I thought—”
“You thought one taste of you would have me begging for more.” Connie folded her arms over her chest, glaring at him. “Well, sorry to puncture your massive ego, but sleeping with you hasn't made me fall for you. Now leave me alone—unless you're going to break another promise to me?”
He'd had his mouth open to protest, but at her last words it snapped shut again. He groped for an explanation, excuses… but she was right.
Three years ago, he’d promised to be faithful to her. He’d thought it would be easy. Sure, before he’d met Connie, he’d enjoyed the billionaire playboy lifestyle, but as soon as he’d laid eyes on her he’d known that he’d never again so much as look at another woman. He’d promised her that.
And then, somehow, in a night that he couldn’t even remember, he’d broken that promise.
If he broke another one now, she'd walk straight out of his life. Again.
No no NO! His stallion raged, hooves stamping, trying to force him to stand his ground.
For once
, Chase bridled the beast, forcing it down. He could still feel it beating its wings furiously at the back of his mind as he slowly, reluctantly pulled on his clothes.
Connie held up a hand as he stumbled toward the door. “Oh, and Chase?”
He spun round so fast, he nearly lost his balance. “Yes?”
There was not the slightest hint of regret or indecision in her expression as she met his eyes. “I'll see you at the airfield tomorrow. What we… what happened doesn't change anything. We've still got a race to win.”
She shut the apartment door in his face. Chase stared blindly at it. He wanted nothing more than to kick it down again, to demand that she love him as fervently and passionately as he loved her.
Because that worked so well for you last time, didn't it?
He knew he was overwhelming and impetuous and generally an all-round massive pain in the ass. Enough people had told him so, on a daily basis, pretty much his entire life.
But he'd always assumed that his fated mate would like that about him. Growing up, he'd just thought one day that he'd meet his mate, sweep her off her feet, and carry her off triumphantly into the sunset.
Three years ago, he'd met Connie. And she'd taken one look at him, and run away as fast as her legs could carry her.
Admittedly, in retrospect it might have been the wrong tactic to propose to her before even asking her name.
Chase had spent an entire month hanging round Kilkenny Airport every single day, under the excuse of taking flying lessons from her father, just for the chance to be near her. When she'd finally spoken to him again at last, her words—“Pass me that torque wrench”—were the most beautiful poetry he'd ever heard.
A month to get her to talk to him. Another month of slowly, so slowly winning her trust, persuading her that he wasn’t just some flighty playboy trying to get into her pants.
She’d finally, finally let him take her out on a date. One date turned into two, three, more…