Southern Seduction ; Pleasure in His Arms

by Carolyn Hector

  The blondes didn’t move. They scowled and Demi glared back. Born and raised in one of Philadelphia’s worst neighborhoods, she’d learned how to defend herself as a child and she wasn’t afraid of anyone, especially not a pair of Barbie lookalikes in knock-off Gucci dresses.

  “Dog,” muttered the blue-eyed blonde, “you said you were single.”

  “He told me the same thing and he invited me to the VIP lounge.”

  “Babe, let’s go to the bar,” the stranger proposed to Demi, gesturing to the elevator with a nod of his head. “I need another whiskey and I bet you could use a watermelon martini.”

  Winking, Demi spoke in a sultry voice. “Among other things, Big Daddy.”

  A devilish grin covered his mouth. Resting a hand on her lower back, the stranger hustled her down the hallway and into the waiting elevator. The doors closed, sealing them inside, and Demi burst out laughing. “Geez, if I’d known acting was that much fun, I would have taken drama in high school!” she joked, wearing a cheeky smile. “I’m Demi. What’s your name, handsome?”

  Chapter 2

  Chase Crawford stood inside the private elevator at Infamous nightclub with the American woman in the eye-catching dress, wondering if her crimson lips tasted as good they looked. Checking her out, he slid his hands into the pockets of his pants and leaned against the wall. The caramel-skinned beauty had it all. Blinding white teeth, curves like a winding road and sleek, toned legs he wished were clamped around his waist, pulling him deep inside her. Attractive women were a dime a dozen in Ibiza, but the woman stood out and not just because of her taut derrière. She had a magnetic personality and a smile that would haunt his dreams. Her doe-shaped eyes were mesmerizing, her lips tempting and her skin had a youthful, vibrant glow.

  “Are you going to stand there lusting after me? Or are you going to tell me your name?”

  Breaking free of his thoughts, Chase wore a sheepish smile. He’d been so busy admiring her physical assets that he’d forgotten to introduce himself. It wasn’t his fault. From the moment he’d left New York it had been one problem after another and he was exhausted. On the plane, his British seatmate had accidently spilled her champagne on him. At the Ibiza airport, he’d discovered the airline had lost his luggage. At the club, he’d suddenly had to navigate a fight between two women with bad tempers. Things could only get better, and if Demi turned out to be even half as cool as he thought she was, they were going to have a good time together. The thought heartened him. Made him momentarily forget his problems.

  “I’m Chase. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Demi.” It took supreme effort, but he stared at her face, even though he wanted to continue admiring her body. He hadn’t had sex since he’d broken up with his college sweetheart three months earlier and being in close proximity to such a titillating woman gave Chase a hard-on inside his boxer briefs. He’d been playing the field since his relationship ended and Demi was exactly his type—fun, energetic and witty—and he wanted to know more about her.

  Her sweet perfume tickled his nostrils, sending his pulse into overdrive. His attraction to her was intense, and if Chase wasn’t worried about Demi slapping him, he’d kiss her—and more. His parents had raised him to be a gentleman and, even though he wanted her back in his arms, he kept his hands to himself and off her mouth-watering curves. “Thank God you showed up when you did, because I didn’t know what to do.”

  “Yeah, I noticed. Five more minutes and they probably would have turned on you.”

  Chase exhaled a deep breath. He shuddered to think what would have happened if Demi hadn’t showed up, and inwardly chastised himself for ending up in such a ridiculous predicament. This kind of thing happened to his twin brother, Jonas, not him. Chase still didn’t know what he’d done wrong. He’d bought the women drinks at the rooftop bar, not professed his undying love, so he didn’t understand why they’d picked a fight with each other outside the VIP lounge. Even though he was thirty-two-years old, he still didn’t understand the opposite sex and feared he never would, but he wasn’t going to lose sleep over it. He was in Ibiza with his family to celebrate his birthday and life was good. He had a successful company, an impressive stock portfolio, a tight-knit family and great friends.

  “Can I give you a piece of friendly advice?” Demi asked, batting her thick, extra-long eyelashes at him. “Next time you’re at a party, flirt with one woman, not two. Capiche?”

  Chase chuckled. “Got it. Thanks for the tip and for saving my life.”

  “No worries. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a bachelor in distress.”

  “Brains, wit and beauty?” he praised. “Your boyfriend is a very lucky man—”

  The smile faded from her lips. “What makes you think I have a boyfriend?”

  “Because you’re gorgeous and vivacious and guys go crazy over women like you.”

  “Look at you getting all up in my business.” Demi giggled. “You’re fine but nosy.”

  Chase chuckled long and hard. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for beautiful women.”

  “If you must know, I’m happily single and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Fervently nodding her head, her teardrop earrings swung wildly back and forth, grazing her bare shoulders.

  “Care to elaborate?” he asked, curious to know her story.

  “Relationships are a lot of work and I can’t be bothered. Most men aren’t honest, let alone faithful, and I don’t have the time or the energy to play games.”

  “It sounds like you’ve been dating the wrong guys.”

  Demi scoffed. “Are there any good ones left?”

  “You’re looking at one. I’m trustworthy, loyal and sincere.”

  “You sound like a politician.” Her features softened and her voice lost its warmth. “I don’t want you to think I’m bitter. I’m not. I’m just tired of meeting boys masquerading as men.”

  “I understand, but don’t worry. By the end of the night you’ll be singing my praises.”

  Demi wagged a finger at him. “Yeah, right!” she argued, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’re trouble, and I don’t want any drama tonight, so goodbye, lover boy.”

  The elevator pinged then stopped on the first floor of the nightclub.

  “Adiós señor!” Smiling, and waving, Demi sashayed out the elevator doors. “See ya!”

  Desperate to reach her, he elbowed his way through the crowd and slid in front of her, forcing her to stop abruptly. She stared up at him with wide eyes and a coy expression on her face. Slowly and seductively, her gaze slid down his body, exciting him. To be heard over the music, he lowered his mouth to her ear. “Not so fast, Demi. I didn’t get your number.”

  A grin dimpled her cheek. “That’s because I didn’t give it to you. And I don’t plan to.”

  “No worries. The night’s still young.” Chase winked. “Let’s go to the bar. I’m buying you a drink and I won’t take no for an answer.”

  “No, thanks. I’ve had plenty and, if I want another cocktail, I’ll buy it myself.”

  “It’s the least I can do. You saved my life and I want to show my gratitude.”

  Before Demi could respond, Chase stepped forward and took her hand in his. It was warm and soft, and fit perfectly in his palm. Escorting her through the club, his chest swelled with pride. Demi was a stunner, with an effervescent personality and a captivating presence. She was the type of woman who men desired and other females envied, and she was with him.

  Adjusting his eyeglasses, Chase peered into the lounge area. Not wanting to compete with his brothers and cousins for Demi’s attention, he found an empty booth on the other side of the room and increased his pace. All night they’d been cracking on him and Chase was tired of their jokes. Thankfully they were too busy on their iPhones to notice him walk by with the sexiest woman in the club, and that suited him just fine.

  Demi released his hand and di
sappeared into the crowd. Chase stopped. Worried he’d lost her to someone else, he turned around, searching the darkened club for the vibrant beauty. Chase spotted her dancing in front of the bar and sighed in relief. She hadn’t run off with one of the celebrity rappers swaggering around the club; she was singing and swaying to the chart-topping reggae song.

  “Oh my goodness!” she screamed, her face alive with happiness. “This is my jam!”

  His jaw hit his chest with a thud. Mesmerized by her seductive dance, Chase stared at Demi in awe. Marveled at how she shook her hips, twirled her arms and moved her legs. A spotlight landed on her. She was that good, that charismatic, and soon a crowd gathered around her, cheering wildly.

  Damn, he thought, closing his gaping mouth. How did she do that? Was Demi a professional dancer? And, most important, did she do those tricks in the bedroom, too? He deleted the explicit thought from his mind but couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Demi twerked like a Caribbean dancehall queen and the strong, infectious beat made him want to bump and grind with her. More flexible than a gymnast, she shimmied her shoulders and hips.

  “I hope you can keep up,” Demi quipped, draping her arms around his neck. Her low, sultry voice cut through the noise, tickling his ear. Her touch lit a fire in him, caused the baby-fine hair on the back of his neck to stand up. Pressing her breasts against his chest, she rubbed herself against his crotch, arousing his body. They weren’t dancing; they were making out with their clothes on, and her erotic moves weakened him. He pulled her closer to him. His brain yelled Stop! But his hands didn’t get the message. They caressed her shoulders, her hips and thighs. Feeling her sex against his groin gave him an erection, but he didn’t act on his impulses.

  They danced to several songs and by the time Chase escorted Demi over to a corner booth, his suit was drenched in sweat. He was tired and his feet ached, but his smile was broad. The guys-only trip to Ibiza couldn’t have come at a better time. His life was an endless stream of early morning meetings, web conferences, business lunches and after-work drinks, and Chase was so stressed out he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks. The more he agonized about his company’s first-quarter losses, the more overwhelmed he became. Failure wasn’t an option, so when he returned to New York, he was going to do everything in his power to fix Mobile Entertainment—even if it meant increasing his already heavy workload.

  Chase put the thought out of his mind. He was in Spain to relax, not stress out about work, and he planned to live it up on the island for the next five days. Ibiza was not only Europe’s version of Las Vegas, it was one of the most thrilling vacation spots in the world, and Chase wanted to experience everything it had to offer. It was full of sun-soaked beaches, magnificent architecture, exceptional restaurants and interesting people—like Demi. She had a presence about her, and everything about her appealed to him.

  Demi sat in the booth and Chase took the seat beside her. The nightclub had slow service but they chatted nonstop while they waited for their server to arrive. She had strong opinions about life and her bold, tell-it-like-it-is personality was refreshing. Her beauty defied words and her laugh was infectious, but her smile was her best feature; it wowed him every time.

  Out of his peripheral vision, Chase saw his brothers Jonas, Ezekiel and Remington watching him from across the room, and hoped they didn’t sidle up to the booth, talking trash. They seemed to derive great pleasure from embarrassing him in front of beautiful women, especially his twin brother, and Chase was tired of being the butt of his jokes.

  His cell phone lit up with text messages from his family, but he ignored them. “Who did you come to Ibiza with and where are you staying?”

  “I’m here on business and I’m staying at the Nobu Hotel Ibiza Bay.”

  “Small world. So am I. We’ll have to meet at the restaurant for dinner tomorrow night.”

  Demi gave him a long, lingering look. One that conjured up explicit thoughts that made him yearn for more than just conversation with her.

  The waiter arrived, took their order and left.

  “Are you a big fan of Geneviève?” Demi asked, fanning her face with her hands.

  “No, but my brothers wanted to party and, since this is the hottest ticket in town, here I am.” Chase stretched out his legs and leaned back comfortably in the booth. “What about you? Are you here to meet the pop star with the killer voice?”

  “Absolutely! I’m the biggest Geneviève fan on the planet and this album release party is everything! I love the music, the energy, the vibe of the club and meeting A-list celebrities.”

  Chase leaned forward. The club was noisy, making it hard for him to hear what Demi was saying. He wanted to take her somewhere quiet, where they could be alone, and considered inviting her back to his suite at the hotel. Not to have sex, just to talk, but if things turned physical, he wouldn’t mind. He hadn’t been intimate with anyone in months, but he liked the idea of hooking up with the scintillating beauty in the fitted, tangerine dress.

  The waiter returned with their order and Chase downed his whiskey in three gulps. Still thirsty, he ordered another then helped himself to one of the chicken wings on the appetizer platter. Once the waiter left, he set his sights back on Demi. “How long are you in Ibiza for?”

  “Three more days,” she said, tasting her cocktail. “I leave for the States on Monday.”

  “Great. That gives us plenty of time to get to know each other.”

  “What part of New York are you from?”

  Chase raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’m a New Yorker?”

  “Everything. Your accent, your swag, your ego,” she teased with a laugh. “I’m from Philly, but I have a condo in the Hamptons, so I consider myself an honorary New Yorker.”

  Chase thought of telling Demi about his Southampton estate, but he stopped from divulging personal details about himself and his family. He thought Demi was a cool girl, but if she turned out to be crazy, he didn’t want her to know where he lived or worked. “Since you’re my girlfriend, it’s only fitting you tell me what you do for a living.”

  “I do lots of things,” Demi answered with a shrug of her shoulder. “I’m a personal assistant, a beauty and lifestyle expert, and a freelance writer, as well.”

  “Wow, you have a lot of jobs! When do you sleep?”

  “I don’t, but I have no complaints. What can I say? I love what I do.”

  “Likewise,” Chase said. “Computer technology is my life and I look forward to going into the office every day to collaborate with my team.”

  Demi gasped. “You’re a computer geek? No way. I thought you were a model!”

  Chase chuckled. Demi was great company, full of energy, smiles and jokes, and it felt as if they’d known each other for months rather than an evening. “I’m an app developer and an internet entrepreneur,” he explained, feeling compelled to defend his career. His brothers teased him relentlessly about being a nerd, but Chase couldn’t imagine ever doing anything else. “I have the best job in the world. I love working with computers, and creating apps that people enjoy.”

  “I’ll take your word for it. I’m a free spirit, who craves spontaneity, so sitting inside an office all day would bore the hell out of me, especially on a hot, summer day.”

  “I’m not surprised. Like most millennials, you crave nonstop action, but hopefully as you get older you’ll learn to slow down and savor every moment.”

  Demi whistled. “Oh wow, you’re smooth. Your girlfriend’s a very lucky woman.”

  “I don’t have one. I’m single and available—”

  “Sure, sure, that’s what they all say. I bet you’re a player with several girls on standby.”

  “Just because I enjoy the company of attractive women doesn’t mean I’m a player.”

  “Of course you are. You have females fighting over you in nightclubs!”

  Takin
g a swig of his whiskey, Chase realized one night with Demi wasn’t going to be enough. Likeable, and witty, she was easy to talk to and had an opinion about everything. Not to mention, she was a bombshell. Drinks tonight and dinner tomorrow, he decided. And maybe if I play my cards right, she’ll spend the night.

  “Chase, just admit it,” she quipped, her tone matter-of-fact. “You don’t want to settle down. You want to hook up with as many women as possible, as soon as possible.”

  “That’s not true. And when I’m in a relationship, I have no problem being faithful.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  Chase adjusted his collar then tugged at his sleeve. “Why? Because I’m sexy as hell?”

  Her face lit up when she laughed. “No, because you give off a bad-boy vibe and my intuition is rarely wrong.”

  “It is this time. I’m the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. I’m a perfect gentleman.”

  “Then why did your last relationship end? What went wrong?”

  A lump formed inside his throat. Whoa! Pump your brakes! We just met! He wasn’t ready to bare his soul just yet. “You first. When was your last serious relationship?”

  “A while ago.” Demi stirred her cocktail with the miniature red straw. “We wanted different things out of life, so we called it quits. End of story. Your turn.”

  Dread pooled in his stomach. He spotted Jonas marching across the dance floor and straightened in his seat. What did he want? Was he coming to make a play for Demi? Was he going to ask her out? Chase gripped his glass tumbler. Of course he was. He always did. They had a love-hate relationship their friends and family didn’t understand, but they’d been rivals since childhood and it would probably never change. “I’ll be right back,” he said, surging to his feet. “Feel free to order another cocktail while I’m gone.”

  “Don’t worry. I will!” Demi took her cell phone out of her purse. “Geneviève’s about to hit the stage and I want to be front and center for her performance, so hurry back.”