Southern Seduction ; Pleasure in His Arms

by Carolyn Hector

  “We’ll see about that.” Demi positioned herself on top of his erection, gripped the headboard and swiveled her hips. “Now, sit back and enjoy the ride!”

  Chapter 9

  Demi stepped out of the marble shower stall inside the master bathroom, snatched a thick, fluffy towel off the metal rack and swathed it around her wet body. Her gaze darted between the two designer outfits hanging behind the door. She didn’t want to make the wrong choice and end up being roasted online. Social media personalities didn’t just act the part, they looked it, too, and Demi hoped her followers responded enthusiastically to the blog post she’d written about bucking fashion trends.

  Inclining her head, she tapped her foot on the tiled floor and took a moment to consider which outfit was more flattering. She decided it was the knee-length bohemian dress with the cut-out shoulders she’d purchased at a local boutique, and unzipped her toiletries bag. Singing along with the Spanish song playing on the bathroom radio, she hiked her leg up on the side of the soaker tub and lotioned her skin with almond body butter. Kneading her muscles with her fingertips, she massaged every ache and pain in her thighs.

  Sunshine poured through the window, filling the bathroom with natural light, and Demi squinted. Marveling at the scenic view, she allowed her thoughts to wander. Just thinking about Chase—still asleep in her bed—excited her. She’d done a lot of wild things in her life, but she’d never hooked up with a perfect stranger, and was nervous about facing him the morning after. She hoped things wouldn’t be awkward when she returned to the bedroom, but decided to play it cool.

  Demi checked the time on her iPhone. An hour earlier she’d slipped out of bed and tiptoed into the bathroom to get ready for the day. Chase was flying to Barcelona with his family that afternoon, but last night he’d insisted on taking her for brunch before he left for the charity event, and she’d agreed.

  I hope we’ll have time for a quickie beforehand, Demi thought, applying mascara.

  Their lovemaking had taken her by surprise. They were comfortable with each other, playful in bed, and she’d eagerly responded to his touch. Each caress aroused her and his passionate kisses had kindled her body’s fire.

  Demi hoped Chase was awake in bed, waiting for her. With that thought in mind, she swapped the towel for her black-satin robe, fluffed her hair with her hands and then threw open the bathroom door. Feeling confident, she sauntered into the bedroom wearing a flirtatious smile.

  Her feet slowed. Disappointment consumed her and her heart felt so heavy inside her chest her shoulders sagged under the weight of her despair. Chase wasn’t in bed and he wasn’t in the kitchen, either. He was gone.

  Refusing to believe it, her gaze darted around the suite. His cologne, which had previously evoked feelings of calm and tranquility, lingered in the air, but it didn’t soothe her nerves now. Was Chase playing a trick on her? Was he going to jump out and scare her when she least expected it? Demi knew she was being irrational, but she checked under the bed, inside the closet and on the balcony, but she didn’t find him anywhere.

  Stumped, Demi contemplated ringing the front desk and asking them to transfer the call to Chase’s suite, but she didn’t want to embarrass herself. She didn’t know his last name and she didn’t want the receptionist to laugh at her. Bits and pieces of past conversations came to mind. Demi didn’t know his room number, but she knew a lot about him.

  He was a thirty-two-year old app developer from New York who loved winter sports, Italian cars and vacationing in Europe. Most important, he donated to charity, mentored at-risk youth and coached his niece’s little league soccer team. Chase was head and shoulders above all of the other guys she’d met in Ibiza, and he had so many admirable traits, it was easy to fall for him. To believe him when he said he was single. To invite him to her suite. To open up to him about her background. In a moment of weakness, she’d let her guard down. Next time she’d be smarter, would think with her brain instead of her flesh.

  “Jerk!” Demi grumbled, hurling a sofa cushion across the room. Dropping onto one of the padded chairs, she toyed with the belt on her robe. Reflecting on last night, she analyzed every moment of their romantic, marathon date. He was a gentleman and she enjoyed spending time with him. Hence, why she was in a funk now.

  Demi gripped the armrest, dug her manicured nails into the plush material. Did Chase sneak out of the suite because he regretted making love to her? A lump formed in her throat. Doubts assailed her, brutally attacked her confidence. Was the sex bad? Is that why Chase took off? Because he couldn’t face her this morning?

  Demi scoffed, refused to entertain the thought. Not because she was arrogant, but because the sweet, complimentary things Chase had said to her during their lovemaking proved they were sexually compatible. Demi didn’t know how to make the perfect ribeye steak, but she knew how to please a man and there was no doubt in her mind that she’d satisfied Chase last night. They’d made love hours earlier, but Demi could still hear his groans in her ears. She’d ridden him long and hard until he’d exploded inside her, and he’d fallen asleep after round two with a big, fat smile on his face.

  Then, why did he sneak out of your hotel suite? If you have a strong connection, then why did he bolt while you were in the shower?

  Good question, she thought, racking her brain for the answer. Then it hit her. Why Chase had left without saying goodbye. The truth was obvious, staring her in the face. He’d reconnected with his on-again off-again girlfriend and was probably planning to romance her in Barcelona. It wouldn’t be the first time a guy had lied to her about his relationship status, but Demi thought Chase was different. She’d believed him when he’d said that he was single, and thought they’d made a connection—and not just in the bedroom. Sure, she was physically attracted to him, and the sex was outstanding, but what made the night memorable was the hours they’d spent in bed, chatting, flirting and laughing.

  Anger coursed through her veins, but Demi willed herself not to lose her temper or to do something she’d later regret—like post about her one-night stand. Chase was gone and there was nothing she could do about it. Screw him. He wasn’t the only fish in the sea and if life had taught her anything, it was to move forward, not dwell on the past...

  Her ears perked up. Hearing her cell phone ring, Demi peered into the bathroom. Spotting her iPhone on the marble countertop beside the vessel sink, she vacillated between taking the call and letting it go to voice mail. She knew from the jazz ringtone that it was her mom on the line and she feared Althea was going to ream her out for being a no-show at Pacha Ibiza last night. They hadn’t been on the same page for months, and Demi was sick of butting heads with her mom. Their relationship had been strained ever since she’d resigned as Geneviève’s personal assistant, and Demi was tired of arguing with Althea. She was twenty-seven-years old and she wasn’t going to let anyone stop her from achieving her goals, not even her mother.

  The cell phone stopped ringing then chimed, notifying Demi that she had a new text message. Guessing it was from her mom, she stayed put on the comfy arm chair. On one hand, she felt guilty for blowing off her family last night, but she’d had a thrilling time with Chase. Even though she was disappointed that he’d left without saying goodbye, hooking up with him had given her her mojo back. Made her feel strong. Like a boss. Demi was bummed that Chase was gone, but she wasn’t going to let his sudden departure ruin her day. She was leaving Ibiza on Monday, and she didn’t want to waste the rest of her vacation ruminating over a guy she barely knew—

  Liar! shouted her inner voice. You know Chase in every sense of the word!

  Demi rose. Stood tall. Enough was enough. She didn’t have time for a pity party. She had beauty tutorials to post, monuments to explore, celebrities to meet and entrepreneurs to network with. Chase had bailed on her. So what? The day wasn’t a bust. She could check out the hotel spa with Gigi, hang out at the beach with her girl squad, or go shoppi
ng with her mom at Hippy Market. There were tons of activities she could do to get her mind off Chase, and Demi was determined to forget him.

  “His loss,” she grumbled. “I’ll find another. Guys like Chase are a dime a dozen.”

  But as the words left Demi’s mouth, she knew they weren’t true. They’d hit it off and she longed to see him again. Longed to feel his touch and taste his lips. Deep down, Demi feared she’d never forget the charismatic New Yorker who’d instantly seized her attention at Infamous—and given her the best sex of her life.

  Chapter 10

  Palming the football with his right hand, Chase scanned the field for a receiver, but none of his brothers or cousins was open. They’d been in the hot sun for hours and Chase wanted an ice-cold drink to quench his thirst. It was the first time since his horseback riding accident that he’d played football with his family members, and Chase didn’t want to overdo it, couldn’t risk hurting himself while on vacation. The charity event at Parc de la Ciutadella was going strong and likely wouldn’t end for several more hours, but Chase was exhausted and ready to call it a day.

  Chase stumbled on a rock. It was a wonder he could walk let alone run. Demi had rocked his world—literally—and he had the aches and pains to prove it. Not that he was complaining. She was a passionate, enthusiastic lover and if he hadn’t embarrassed himself last night in the bedroom, he’d probably still be at her suite, making love.

  All day long, he’d thought about Demi. He owed her an apology for leaving her suite without saying goodbye, but he’d had no choice. Juliet had showed up while Demi was in the shower, and her incessant banging on the door had put him in a difficult position. He’d worried that Demi would return to the bedroom and freak out about his ex-girlfriend showing up again. To get rid of her, he’d been forced to leave the suite to escort Juliet to her room. He wanted to speak to Demi, face-to-face, not over the phone, and hoped she’d forgive him for walking out on her.

  Someone whistled, drawing his attention across the field. Cheers, laughter and foreign languages filled the air. Couples did yoga under leafy trees, tourists strolling along the pathways admired exotic plants, flowers and parrots, and fitness lovers jogged, biked and skated around the park. Artists painted, played instruments and sang traditional Spanish songs, creating a celebratory mood on the grounds.

  Known for its centuries-old museums and scenic boating lakes, Parc de la Ciutadella was the most famous and popular park in Spain. But, to his surprise, dozens of strangers had stopped to watch their pickup football game and were cheering wildly.

  “Bro, I’m open! Pass!” Jonas shouted, waving his arms in the air. “Hit me!”

  Blinded by the glare of the sun, Chase sprinted backward to avoid being tackled by a petite, blonde defender. An image of Demi—her eyes twinkling, her breasts bouncing, her hair swaying seductively across her shoulders—popped into his mind as he hurled the football across the field. It hit Jonas in the face, shattering his sunglasses. Doubled over, Jonas moaned like a wounded animal, earning chuckles from spectators and players on the opposing team.

  “Son of a bitch!” he raged, erupting in anger. Their family members tried to console him, but he pushed them away. Tilting his head back, Jonas touched his nose, moving it from left to right to ensure it wasn’t broken. He cursed him out, but Chase didn’t take offense to his brother’s insults. He’d screwed up and Jonas had every right to be mad at him. Next time, he’d focus on the game instead of fantasizing about Demi.

  Yeah right, scoffed his inner voice. You have a better chance of meeting the President!

  “What the hell was that?” Jonas roared, gesturing to the goal post behind him with a nod of his head. “Are you crazy? I said, ‘Hit me’ not smash me in the face with the football!”

  “My bad, Jonas. The sun is so bright I couldn’t see.”

  “I have half a mind to kick your ass up and down this field. Then you’ll see what it’s like to be humiliated...”

  Expelling a deep breath, Chase raked a hand through his hair. He reflected on his day in Barcelona and, even though Jonas was mad at him, he was glad his family had accompanied him to the charity event. Ibiza was more than just a party island crawling with celebrities, dignitaries and international tourists. Every year millions of dollars were raised for local shelters and Chase was proud his company was one of the official sponsors of the event.

  Yawning, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. It had been a long day, but Chase didn’t regret making the trip to Barcelona. Arriving at the park that afternoon, he’d been pleasantly surprised to see the Mobile Entertainment tent packed with young people. The American models his marketing director had hired to man the booth shook hands with visitors, handed out promotional gear and posed for pictures and selfies. The event had been a rousing success, filled with many worthwhile opportunities. He’d made meaningful connections with several savvy businessmen, befriended an Australian tech giant and met a successful female entrepreneur, who’d flirted with him over drinks. To be polite, he’d taken her business card, but he wasn’t attracted to her, and he didn’t want to visit her Tuscan villa.

  Chase used the sleeve of his white, V-neck shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow. For the second time in minutes his thoughts returned to Demi—the beauty who’d knocked him off his game. He wondered where she was, who she was with and if she was thinking about him. Addicted to the high, the thrill of their wild, frenzied lovemaking, his body craved her tight, wet—

  “This isn’t over,” Jonas warned, jabbing an index finger at Chase’s chest. “I’m going to get even when you least expect it, and it won’t be pretty.”

  Chase groaned inwardly, wished he could go back in time and re-throw the football. Quick to joke and laugh, Jonas was as mischievous as a Tasmanian devil, and Chase knew his brother would made good on his threat. He only hoped he didn’t embarrass him at his office. If he did, Mercedes and Katia would never let Chase live it down.

  “It was an accident. I swear.” Chase wore an apologetic smile. “Jonas, hang tight. I’ll go grab you some ice and a beer from one of the food vendors.”

  Jonas scoffed. “Why? So you can throw it at me? No thanks. I’m good.”

  Two brunettes, busting out of tank tops and yellow, cotton shorts, appeared on the field and linked arms with Jonas. They spoke to him in Spanish, tenderly rubbed his neck and shoulders, and his scowl morphed into a smile. Off the trio went, talking and laughing, and Chase knew his twin was in good hands. His family members raced over to the food vendors set up in the tents around the park, and Chase was glad to see them go. They’d been together all day and they were starting to get on his nerves, especially Remington. His older brother loved to stir the pot and derived great pleasure from provoking Jonas, but his antics were annoying.

  Chase checked his sports watch. They’d been at the park for hours, and all he wanted to do now was sleep. He’d been going nonstop since arriving in Ibiza four days earlier, and the late nights and early mornings had finally caught up with him. If he had the key for the rental car, he’d return to the SUV, stretch out in the back seat and take a nap. They had three more days in Spain and even though they’d agreed to end their trip in Barcelona, Jonas wanted to return to Ibiza tonight for the legendary Foam Party at the Amnesia nightclub and Chase planned to join him. Not to go clubbing—to see Demi.

  Doubts assailed his thoughts. Demi was real and down-to-earth, but Chase wondered what would happen if he told her he was a multimillionaire with a successful business, vacations homes around the world, and the best of everything money could buy. Would she ask him for a loan? To pay her bills? To buy her a Lamborghini? It had happened before and Chase didn’t want to get burned by someone he was interested in.

  Wetting his lips with his tongue, he contemplated joining his family at the red-striped tent serving sizzling plates of barbecue. The aromas wafting on the breeze roused his hunger, causing his stomach to moan a
nd groan. The sun was strong, the air thick, and Chase worried if he didn’t get something cold to drink, he’d pass out from the stifling heat.

  “Nice play, bro.” Ezekiel clapped Chase on the back and shook his shoulder. “Jonas has been messing with you all day, so I knew it was just a matter of time before you got even. I never imagined you’d take him out with a football, though. You’re a beast!”

  “Zeke, it was an accident. My mind wandered and I lost focus.”

  “Still thinking about Demi, huh?”

  Cringing, Chase dodged his brother’s gaze. He wished his family didn’t know about his one-night stand, but they’d put two-and-two together when he’d returned to the suite that morning. They’d wanted details, pressured him to reveal all, but he’d refused. Couldn’t do it. Didn’t want to disrespect Demi by blabbing to his family about their encounter. “I feel like crap,” he blurted, tired of keeping the truth bottled up inside. Jonas was his twin, but Chase had always been closest to Ezekiel. He enjoyed spending time at his brother’s estate, playing soccer and board games with his nieces. Ezekiel was a pharmacist by day and a saxophonist by night, and when he wasn’t performing with his band at local jazz bars, he was romancing his wife, Moriah. “Bro, I screwed up. I shouldn’t have left Demi’s suite without saying goodbye—”

  “Then why did you?”

  Because I got scared and I panicked. Chase shrugged, wandered over to the wooden bench he’d left his backpack on earlier and sat. He picked up his bottle and finished his water in three gulps. He couldn’t put his feelings into words, struggled to explain to Ezekiel why he’d done what he had. With his ex, he’d always had trouble showing affection and sharing his emotions, but not with Demi. He’d confided in her about the struggles of being a twin, the pressures he was under at work, and his past relationships. In turn, she’d told him about growing up in poverty and the stress of living in the shadow of her successful, older sister. But, most shocking of all, was their emotional connection. The heartfelt things he’d said while they were making love. He’d awoken that morning, heard Demi singing in the shower, and bolted upright in bed. Everything he’d said the night before had flooded his memory and his skin had burned with shame. His feelings for her scared the hell out of him. And when Juliet showed up, banging on the suite door, he’d decided to leave to prevent an argument between the two women.