Chance on Love

by Vristen Pierce

  Amber gave him an embarrassed look. “Well, okay then. Thanks anyway, and I’m sorry for bugging you.” She turned to go.

  Chance really should have let her, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Wait.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ll do it.”

  Her brown eyes lit up, and a big grin spread across her face. “Great, you won’t regret it.”

  Yeah, he didn’t believe that either.

  After thanking him profusely, she practically skipped off to tell the sexy devil woman of the latest developments.

  “What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

  Chance had a night of scary Love ahead of him—he needed something strong. He couldn’t very well get plastered and drive, though. “Just a beer, thanks.” He looked across the room, every bit of his awareness closing in on the blonde form seated at a booth.

  Their gazes locked, and they gave each other a nice long stare down.

  Love broke the eye contact to look up at Amber, now standing next to her.

  Chance took his beer from the bartender and slapped some cash down on the bar. There was nothing else to do except get this night over with. Waiting until Amber made her exit, he finally went over.

  Love looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “If this is such a burden for you, you could have just said no.”

  Sighing, he dropped down on the bench seat across from her. “What are you even talking about?”

  She sat back and crossed her arms. “Well, it certainly took you long enough to come over here.”

  “Had to psych myself up for the misery.” He tilted his head. “Why are you so concerned about how long it took me to get here? It’s not like I had to come over at all. I’m only taking you home. We don’t have to chat to make that happen.”

  Love licked her lips, temporarily distracting him. “Then why did you come over here at all?”

  Huh. He really didn’t have a good answer for that. “I guess I wanted to see for myself.”

  “See what?”

  “If you actually did want me to take you home. No offense, but I thought your friend was full of shit.” Chance thought he saw the briefest hint of a smile on her lips. “You don’t exactly like me, after all.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  He smiled. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s just a feeling.” He leaned forward slightly. “So, is it true, Love?” he asked softly. “You want this?” They stared into each other’s eyes for several long moments.

  She cleared her throat. “I need a ride, you’re here, so...” She shrugged. “Look, we got off on the wrong foot. What do you say we just put that behind us and start over?”

  Chance struggled not to smile. No way was this chick serious. Still, he was curious as to how far she would take this. Maybe he’d end up with another scalding cup of coffee being ‘accidentally’ spilled on him. Then again, maybe he’d end up in a bit of pain for entirely different—pleasurable—reasons. He decided to humor her.

  “Really?” he asked. “What brought on this change of heart?”

  “I guess I was a little out of line,” she mumbled while she avoided his eyes by looking around the bar.

  He cupped his hand behind his ear. “I’m sorry, what?”

  She rolled her eyes, finally turning her focus to him. “I said I guess I was a little out of line.”

  He nodded. “You definitely were. Do I get an apology?”

  “You just did.” Her gaze moved past his shoulder and she narrowed her eyes.

  “What?” He started to turn, but she grabbed his shirt, pulling him close. “What the hell,” he said, frowning. Their faces were mere inches apart. Without warning, she swept her tongue over his lips. His cock immediately sprang to life.

  “You want your apology or not,” she whispered against his lips.

  Growling in response, he grabbed her face roughly. “Apologize.” She obliged by opening her mouth and covering it with his. His dick was more than alive now—it was as hard as it had ever been. He’d had his share of women, but none had turned him on this much with a single kiss. The feel of her tongue against his was almost enough to make him come right then and there.

  Letting go of his shirt, she wrapped her arms around his neck as the kiss deepened. When she moaned into his mouth, he felt it down to his bones—one in particular. He buried his fingers in her hair, fighting the urge to rip her clothes off and fuck her right there on the table, in front of all the patrons at Mister’s.

  Just as suddenly as it had started, the kiss ended. Her arms still around his neck, she pulled back and peered into his eyes. “Sorry.”

  Chance was practically panting; the damn devil woman had taken his breath. He tried to sound nonchalant. “Now that was an apology. Not as much fun as the first one, but I’ll take it.”

  This time, she did smile. It wasn’t an illusion. He saw it plain as day. The smile was quick and small, but it was there. That took him off guard almost as much as the kiss had.

  After they pulled apart, they each sat there, looking at anything but one another. Finally, she spoke. “About that...”

  Patiently, he waited for her to continue, though she seemed in no hurry to do so.

  “It was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

  He nodded. Too bad. His gaze came to rest on those spell-casting lips of hers. It was for the best, really. She was homicidal, they hated each other, and he was kind of her temporary boss. Those things didn’t make the best recipe for meaningless sex.

  Or...did they?

  He was just about to blurt out his desire for a one-night stand when they were interrupted. “Steph,” a voice said from behind him. “Hey.”

  Frowning, she looked up. “Clay? Is that you?”

  “I thought you saw me when I was standing back there.”

  “I was a bit preoccupied I guess,” she said with a laugh. “Isn’t Mister’s a little...low rent for a classy guy like you?”

  He looked up to see Clayton Morrison...the Third. Bastard always did love tacking that on at the end. They’d met years ago when Chance was still working the Houston scene, shortly after college.

  “Chance?” Clayton’s eyes widened a bit. “Chance Valentine?” Grinning, he slapped him on the shoulder. “Man, how long has it been?”

  He grunted in response. It hadn’t been long enough.

  Clayton turned his attention back to Love. “I’m meeting a few friends here. It’s close to their offices.”

  She looked from one man to the other. “You two know each other?”

  “Sure,” Clayton said. “After college, we both worked for a big station in Houston.”

  Well, one of them had worked—and it hadn’t been Clayton. He’d been too busy bragging about his connections and his wealth. And busy trying to one-up Chance at every turn.

  “I saw that, ah, kiss.” He cleared his throat. “You two are seeing each other?”

  Chance scoffed before taking a swig of beer.

  “Uh, yeah.” Love slid her hand across the table to caress one of his. “We’ve been together for a couple of blissful weeks now.”

  Chance nearly choked. “What—”

  “Weeks?” Clayton asked, leaning in slightly.

  “Weeks,” she said, turning her attention to Chance. “I know we said we’d keep it quiet for a while longer, sweetheart, but I’m ready to tell the world.” She gave him a big smile.

  He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he knew one thing. She may give the best, most painful hard-ons in the world, but he was not, not, pretending to be in a relationship with her. Chuckling, he sat back. “Oh, Love, there is no way—”

  Clayton cocked his head. “But we only broke up a couple of weeks ago.”

  That definitely piqued his interest. Clayton the Third had been with the devil’s mistress?

  He glanced at Chance. “Man, I hate to tell you, but...” A broad grin spread across his face. “You’re a total rebound.” He started laughing.

  Yeah, something told
Chance the asshole hadn’t really hated to tell him that.

  “Chance is no one’s rebound.”

  Still smiling, Clayton shook his head. “Right.”

  “He isn’t,” Love said again. “In fact, it’s nice to finally be with a real man.”

  Chance bit back a laugh as Clayton’s expression fell.

  “At least I don’t have to worry about who else he’s screwing.”

  “Yeah?” He gave her a tight smile. “Big mistake.”

  Chance stood up, towering over the little twerp. “Come on, Love,” he said, offering his hand. She readily accepted it.

  Clayton was still fuming. “You thought I was a player and you get with this guy? You ain’t seen nothing yet, baby.”

  “If you’ll excuse us, Clayton,” Chance said, grinning. “I’ve got quite a bit to show her tonight.” He winked. After taking a moment to enjoy Clayton’s blatant disgust, Chance led Love toward Mister’s exit.

  This woman was a walking predicament, even without the fake relationship. Nevertheless, he did want her in the most carnal sense imaginable. And if that also caused poor old Clayton’s hackles to rise, all the better.

  Chapter 8

  The car ride was painfully awkward. She had acted like a complete loon back at the bar, but maybe the gods were finally smiling on her. Chance had apparently decided to drop the whole thing.

  “So Clayton cheated on you, huh?”

  Stephanie rolled her eyes and continued to face the passenger side window. Now, this was the luck with which she was familiar. “He’s a sleazy asshole, whatever.”

  Chance was silent for a few moments. “How’d you two meet?”

  “The station ran a story on him when he planned a fundraiser to raise money for one of the local senior centers.” She’d attended the fundraiser and he’d asked her out. Repeatedly. After blowing him off out of pure common sense—what could a man like that actually want with a woman like her?—she’d relented.

  But, hell, never mind Clay, she was still trying to take her mind off that kiss. She hadn’t been expecting much when she had pulled Chance to her, but...mercy.

  Having him take such command of her mouth had started a throbbing between her thighs. She had felt those lips many times in her dreams, but real life was different. The schmuck had taken her damn breath away.

  And then she’d gone on about how it wouldn’t happen again when, really, she was ready to ride his cock right there on one of the buttery soft, leather seats of his fancy Jag.

  There was no way to deny it—he turned her on like no other man ever had. The fact that he was a man—not a boy trapped in a man’s body, like Clay and all the others—was enough to make him irresistible. Something told her she might have finally found the one man who was strong enough to take control of her. The thought gave her chills. Being meek and submissive had never been her thing, but submitting to the likes of Valentine wasn’t exactly an unappealing thought.

  Even now, her pussy grew damp as she thought about the ways he could dominate her.

  “You ready to tell me what tonight’s really about?”

  She feigned ignorance. “What do you mean?”

  He never took his eyes from the road. “Wanting me to take you home, pretending to want a truce, kissing me like you’d completely lost your mind.” He glanced at her then. “Need I go on?”

  “You needn’t.” Stephanie sighed. “I kind of wanted you to be my date to the Valentine’s gala next month.”

  “The what?”

  The sheer disbelief in his voice almost made her smile. It was as if he had never heard of something so ludicrous. “It’s a yearly thing. A bunch of execs hold this party and we all go.”

  “So you need a date, and it has to be me?”

  “It doesn’t have to be you, smart ass. It was just an idea.”

  “But why? You don’t even like me.”

  “I don’t like anyone.”

  Chance laughed. “True enough. I guess with your charming personality, you probably don’t have many other options.”

  “Watch it,” she said, fighting an urge to smile. She sort of liked the fact that he wasn’t shy about calling her out. It was actually a breath of fresh air. Fortunately, she didn’t have much time to dwell on that because he pulled his car into her driveway.

  He cut the ignition.

  She stared at his profile, barely lit by moonlight trying its best to filter through the tinted windows of the car. She wasn’t normally one to be speechless. “Uh, thanks for the ride,” she muttered.

  He turned to look at her. “I’ll see you in, Love.”

  His deep voice, though warm, caused goose bumps to form in an instant. And though only mere inches of her skin were exposed, she instantly had the desire to cover herself.

  With him.

  Hoping he’d think of the gesture as nothing more than refusal and not an attempt to clear her mind, Stephanie shook her head. “No, uh, I’m fine.”

  Chance smirked. “You are,” he said, his voice soft. “But I insist.” Without waiting to hear another word of her protests, he took the key out of the ignition and got out.

  She gulped—at least she tried to gulp. Her mouth had suddenly gone dry. She didn’t need this schmuck walking her to her door like some teenaged beau. The nerve of that asshole, making her feel slightly insecure and nervous.

  She was Stephanie fucking Love. She didn’t do insecure and she certainly didn’t do nervous. Yeah, she needed to tell the bastard off but good.

  He opened her door and stood aside to let her exit.

  Some of her bravado slipped just a bit, and she narrowed her eyes at him. Oh, he was good. Opening doors, walking women to even more doors...

  She had his number. And if he kept this up, he’d be receiving a call.

  “Thanks,” she said, getting out of the car, “but I’ll take it from here.” Forcing a smile, she sidestepped him and made her way up the walk to the porch of her modest cottage-style home.

  “It’s not an inconvenience, really,” he said, after they made it to the front door. His voice was so near her ear, his warm breath tickled the side of her face.

  They weren’t facing one another, but his body heat emanated from him, melting every inch of her. Her hand shook a bit as she withdrew her keys from her purse. She fumbled with them for a few seconds before finally grasping the house key.

  “Here,” Chance said, giving her waist the lightest, briefest touch. “Allow me.” His hand reached around to close over hers.

  The physical contact caught her by surprise, and she temporarily lost her balance. She made just the tiniest step back. That was all it took. She was now up against a broad slab of granite—his chest—and something even harder.

  He sucked in a sharp breath just as hers left her lungs. She knew she should have moved, but she couldn’t. The feel of him there, with his body pressed to hers was too surreal. Literally, a dream—or fourteen—come true. Neither of them moved an inch.

  After a few moments, he heightened the tension by increasing the pressure of his body against hers. He took the key from her, leaning in as he placed it in the lock and turned it. The soft click barely registered. His cock pushed against her even more. The man felt too damned good.

  Her eyes drifted shut as she bit her lip to keep from moaning. The faint scent of his cologne drifted to her in the cold, sharp winter air, causing her to inhale as deeply as she could. She should have moved. She knew she should have moved. Only, she couldn’t.

  After withdrawing the key, he turned the knob. “There you go,” he said, his breath warm on her neck, as he pushed the door open. He leaned his head down just enough for his lips to brush the sensitive spot right behind her ear.

  She gasped before stepping into the house and whirling around. Her chest rose and fell as if she’d just run a marathon. “You,” she said, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “back off.” She knew what he was up to, trying to disarm her.

  Chance followed her into the house, a
nd she stepped back. He gave her a slow, sexy smile as he closed the door behind him. “Or what?”

  She tossed her purse on the large, cozy club chair and folded her arms. “You don’t want to know.”

  “I think I do,” he said, his voice husky and teasing. His eyes held a mischievous glint that dared her to go any further.

  Stephanie, being Stephanie, had to go further. Holding his gaze, she took a step toward him. “I’m not scared of you, Valentine. You don’t make me quiver like a lovesick schoolgirl. This charming, carefree playboy shtick does nothing for me so you can stop wasting your time—I’m not impressed.”

  He smirked. “Let’s fix that then.” Grabbing a handful of her hair, he pulled her to him as he slid a strong arm around her waist.

  She ceased breathing once more. The feel of his stiff cock against her made her wet in an instant. Still, she couldn’t very well admit to how affected she was. The schmuck didn’t deserve her desire. And he sure as hell didn’t need to know about it.

  She scowled. “Don’t you dare—” The rest of her protest, fake as it was, became lost as his tongue pushed into her mouth. She gave him a few weak slaps on his shoulder before melting against him. The man was rock solid, which was good because she was mush.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself. Otherwise, she’d hit the floor at any moment.

  He slid a hand down to her ass and squeezed. She moaned, the sound muffled by his mouth.

  So much for pretending she was unaffected. She pressed against the hard bulge in his pants. “You asshole,” she said, breathless, when he moved his lips from hers to her neck. Still, she held on to him as her head fell back to allow him better access. “I don’t like you,” she said as her eyes closed.

  “Mm,” Chance murmured. “I don’t like you either. We’re even.”

  Her eyes snapped open. “Then stop kissing me, idiot.”

  “Stop letting me,” he said, his breath tickling her neck.

  “Aren’t you seeing someone—or a few someones right now?” she asked, holding to him more tightly. She just needed an ounce more willpower to push this bastard away.