The next few weeks provide a whirlwind of activity. Chase and I alternate between each other’s homes most nights. It constantly surprises me that a man so used to luxury willingly stays in my cramped apartment, sharing space with my wacky roommate. He even seems unbothered by the frequent bouts of marathon sex between Maria and Tom on some of our shared evenings. Maria and I did try to schedule our overnight stays at our boyfriends’ houses so that we would each have a bit of privacy, but more than a couple times a week that didn’t work out. Most of the time it was because Chase’s schedule was sporadic. Everyone, including me, seems to want a piece of him.

Since the night where we uncovered our demons, we’ve been inseparable. At least as much as possible considering he often travels or has meetings well into the evenings. We haven’t said the “L” word to one another again after that deeply emotional night of baring our pasts. I think we were both afraid to break the spell. Somehow we accepted each other’s pasts as just that—our pasts. We chose not to let it taint the relationship we’ve built.

I am up to my eyeballs in alligators at work, dead set on proving that I deserve my new title and promotion. I have regular meetings with Mr. Hawthorne and Taye about upcoming fundraising initiatives and events we are working on. This weekend, I am going on my very first major giving donor prospect visit with Taye. He’s going to teach me the fine art of asking a wealthy donor to give tens of thousands of dollars to the foundation. In equal parts, I am excited and terrified.

The only problem I have now is telling my very overprotective boyfriend that I am going to be gone for a few days without him and meeting privately with a rich stranger. Both of which he’ll balk at. In a normal relationship, this shouldn’t be a problem, but Chase and I are anything but normal. It’s not as if he doesn’t go on plenty of business trips alone. I don’t bat an eyelash when he jets off to put out some fire at one of his companies across the nation, or the globe for that matter. Sure, I miss him terribly when he is gone, but didn’t some philosophical genius say that absence makes the heart grow fonder? I believe it to be true, because when Chase is gone, I think about him incessantly. So much so that the girls all know when he is out of town based on my depressive sulking and lack of interest in going out with them. They understand that I am in deep with Chase and tease me like crazy over it.

It takes some time to get up my nerve, but I finally I come to the conclusion that the best way to handle this trip is to not make a big deal about it. I am going to New York with Taye whether Chase approves or not. I’ll just shoot him a quick text and be done with it.

To: Chase Davis

From: Gillian Callahan

I’m going out of town on a donor visit Thursday through Sunday with Taye. Excited! I’ve never been to New York City.

I reread the text. Sounds straightforward, to the point. There’s nothing special about it or any hidden meaning. I click send and turn to my computer to crunch some numbers. Ever since the promotion a few weeks ago, I’ve been thrown into the world of budgeting and forecasting. At first it was a daunting world I wasn’t familiar with, but I’ve found that I’m actually pretty good at it. I’m able to see the areas where we can grow our donor dollars as well as the areas of concern that need more attention. My cell phone pings.

If I’m honest with myself, I had an inkling that he wouldn’t be thrilled about me heading out of town, but I won’t be alone.

I send the text and start reviewing my numbers again. I’m disrupted by the ping from my cell phone once more. I roll my eyes and look down at the display.

End of discussion? Is he psychotic? He knows that’s going to piss me off. I’m not a wallflower. I can handle myself. Though I can’t say I wouldn’t mind being in the city that never sleeps with my sexy man. My mind flitters back to this morning, his long, thick cock hammering into me, the hot water from the shower sluicing down my back adding to the fire raging within our melding bodies. His mouth covered mine and his tongue entered me hard and fast in the same mating dance our lower bodies were in. I shake off the thoughts and squeeze my thighs together, relieving some of the pressure. The desire I get just thinking about our lovemaking makes me completely stupid. I fire back a text as fast as my fingers can type.

I wait for his return text. Doesn’t he have a job running an empire?

That’s right! His cousin Craig lives in New York. I haven’t met him yet. Of course he knows that the desire to meet his family would sway me and seal the deal. Sneaky bastard.

No kissy faces, no XOXO. Responding flippantly is all I can manage. As upset as it makes me that he’s hovering over me like a helicopter mom over her five-year-old, I do love spending time with him. The prospect of seeing his apartment in New York City is exhilarating as well. Funny, he never mentioned it before. I remember him mentioning a home in Chicago and of course the penthouse in San Francisco. Makes me wonder how many homes he has. I’ll have to ask him about it later. He doesn’t text me again, and for that I’m grateful. He’s probably gloating about winning, this time at least.

After a brutal day of staring at numbers and spreadsheet after spreadsheet, I need a drink. Entering the apartment, I stumble on Maria and Tom making out on the couch. His hand is under her shirt, rhythmically squeezing her large breast. Her hand is shoved deep into his underwear, fondling his manhood. I stare in shock, mouth wide open in awe. Ribbons of excitement tingle along my skin. The scene before me is so fucking hot. Her tongue is delving into his mouth while her hips gyrate against his groin. Makes me wish I went to Chase’s apartment instead of coming home. I could be riding my own man right now. Probably not. He mentioned something about working late.

I try to quietly sneak to my room to give them privacy when my briefcase catches on the wall and drags against the stucco. Dammit! I turn slowly and the couple has righted themselves. Both are gasping for air. Maria crosses her legs sweetly.

“Gigi, didn’t expect you to come home tonight,” she says through gasps of air.

A smile slips over my features. “Obviously.” I grin wickedly.

She looks at me with a satisfied glint in her eye. She’s not at all embarrassed by her sexual display. She’s very comfortable with her sexuality and doesn’t apologize for it. Tom, on the other hand, has turned beet red, his hand covering a very impressive erection.

“I’ll just be a minute. I need a glass of wine,” I tell her while walking down the hallway.

Purposely, I take longer than usual putting my things away and changing into yoga pants and a tank top. When I walk back into the living room, I hear laughter coming from the kitchen. Making my way around the island, I plant my bum on one of our barstools. Maria is opening my favorite white wine. Tom is standing behind Maria, gripping her hips and kissing her neck playfully. She’s smiling and wiggling her ass provocatively against him. He keeps jutting his hips back, not allowing the contact. She knows what she’s doing to him. The poor guy doesn’t stand a chance.

I sit and watch them be frisky with one another, my elbow on the counter and my chin in my cupped hand. Seeing Maria happy and in love is a dream come true. There was a time I wasn’t sure either one of us would have a happily ever after again. She’s had her own fair share of shitty men in the past. Antonio was right up there with Justin, but this one seems to be the real deal.

Eventually, I clear my throat. They both look my way, full of smiles. She saunters over, swaying her hips giving her man a show from behind.

He doesn’t miss a beat, blatantly staring at her ass. “Damn, woman, you know how to work that ass!” he says without shame.

“I know,” she says saucily.

Laughing, I accept the glass she hands me.

“So bonita, where’s Chase?” she asks.

“Working late. He’ll probably come by this evening. Just then the landline rings, and Maria answers it.

“Hola.” She listens for a moment while Tom and I wait. “Hola, sexy hombre de negocios.”

I can’t remember what negocios means. But I caught the part about saying “hello sexy man.”

She continues in her native tongue. “Estoy bien, ¿verdad?”

I watch her intently. She’s smiling that sneaky grin. “Ella está aquí. ¿Qué tan malo es lo que quieres hablar con mi hermosa?” she says defiantly. She said something about speaking to her girl. Then she hands the phone to me.

“It’s for you,” she says, smiling.

I cringe at her and she sticks out her tongue. The only person I know who can speak Spanish as well as she can is Chase.

“Hello?”

“Evening, gorgeous.”

This time, I smile at his newest endearment. Kitten went the way of the wind, thank God. Wasn’t fond of that one. Babycakes came and went. Baby and gorgeous seem to have stuck. I’m not complaining.

“Evening. What’s up?” I ask.

“I texted you, but you didn’t answer so I figured I’d call your landline. I have to jet off to Toronto this evening. One of my sky rises that’s being built had a tragic accident. Apparently one of the crewman didn’t secure himself to the scaffolding and fell off. He died instantly. I need to deal with the architect, the foreman, the insurance companies, pretty much everyone involved with the incident, not to mention I want to say a few words to the family.”

“Oh, no, I’m so sorry to hear that. Did you know him?” I ask solemnly.

“Know who?” he asks.

I hear him shuffling papers and moving around in the background. His breath is labored like he just finished exercising. He must be pulling his things together to leave now.

“The man who died?” I ask.

“Oh, no. I employ around fifty thousand or so people, Gillian. I only personally know the heads of my companies and some of the key executives.”

Wow, I guess that makes sense. Then it hits me—fifty thousand people? Holy hell, that’s a lot of people counting on him and the success of his businesses. I usually joke about him running his empire, but he really does have a lot on his plate.

“Makes sense. Go, don’t worry about me. I’m not leaving for New York for a couple days.”

“That’s why I called. One of my jets will be ready to take you and Mr. Jefferson to New York on Thursday morning. Jack will pick you up at the airport. He’ll drop off Mr. Jefferson at his hotel and then he’ll bring you to me.” The sentence is laced with desire and want, making my heart pound and the space between my thighs moisten.

“Is that right? He’ll bring me to you?” I try to put as much sex in my tone as possible.

He growls seductively. “Yes, he will bring my woman to me,” he emphasizes.

“Two days is a long time to wait,” I warn. It’s been months since we’ve spent a night apart. I’m not sure if I remember what it’s like to sleep alone. I’m pretty sure I’m in full pout mode because Maria is in the background making the duck symbol with her hand then mouthing “que.”

“But it will be worth the wait. And Gillian?”

“Yes, Chase,” I answer, a little out of breath and squirming in my seat excited about meeting up with my lover in a new city but also aching to be in his arms.

“Don’t be wearing any panties. I plan on fucking you the second you arrive.”

Desire streaks down my body and settles at my center. I can’t speak. Visions of exactly what he’ll do to me when I see him flutter in quick pornographic images across my mind. I try to shake them off, to pay attention to his words, but am unsuccessful. God, I wish he were here now.

“Until then, gorgeous, remember the rule.” His voice is gruff and strained. “Your pleasure is mine. Don’t touch yourself,” he warns.

I practically come from that request alone. Jesus, he knows how to play me until I’m weeping with desire.

“And what if I do? What if I can’t help myself?” I ask boldly.

“I’ll know, and I won’t be happy.” His tone is unyielding.

“I won’t,” I mutter quickly. I want him happy at all times, in all things.

“Goodnight, baby,” he says and hangs up.

Fanning myself, I put the phone back into the receiver. Maria studies me, and I take a huge swallow of the chilled wine, hoping it will help the internal fire raging deep inside. Two whole days without the feel of him, waking up near his warm, naked body. I sigh and mentally berate myself. What am I doing? I’m freaking myself out. I can handle this. It’s two freakin’ days, for crying out loud.

“What’s the matter, cara bonita?” Maria asks.

Tom looks concerned.

“Chase has to fly out to Toronto. A crewman working on one of his buildings fell to his death today.”

Maria gasps and Tom puts his hands on her shoulders. The movement does not go unnoticed. He’s totally and completely in love with her. I wonder if she is in love with him. Hmmm. Looks like we need some girl time.

“I know, it’s sad. He’ll meet me in New York though on Thursday. So you’ll have to put up with me here for a couple more days.” I laugh.

“Chica, esta es tu casa…your home. If we want to be alone to bump uglies, we can go to his house.” She points her thumb over her shoulder at Tom, who starts laughing at her unique way of referring to having sex.

“Thanks, girl. Now what’s for dinner?” I ask, knowing she rarely cooks.

She looks pointedly at me. “I don’t know. What is for dinner?”

Of course she looks to me. I roll my eyes.

“How about some good old-fashioned pizza?” Tom suggests. “I know the best place. I can pick it up, give you two some time to catch up,” he offers.

To hell with Maria, I think I love this man! A man who knows when women need some girl time and offers food is marriage material.

“You’re too good to me, Papi.” She whirls around and kisses him. Papi? I laugh at her nickname for him.

He returns the kiss and his face turns red again. It’s actually quite sweet, what they have. I wonder if our friends think the same about Chase and me. We had a rocky start, but aside from the demonstrative way he tries to dig his way into my life, we’re really happy. Tom goes into the other room, and I hear him ordering the pizza and riffling through the keys in the bowl at the side table. The last thing I hear is the door shutting and that’s my cue to pounce.

“So, Ria, you two looked pretty cozy.”

A huge smile breaks across her face. “He makes me happy and the sex, cara bonita, the sex is caliente!” she confides.

“Do you love him?” I ask, holding my breath.

She sets her hands on the counter and cocks her head to the side. She bites her lip and thinks a moment. “I think so. I don’t want anyone else.”

I nod in understanding.

“You know how it is, Gigi. It’s hard to give my heart. He’s told me he loves me though,” she hedges.

“Oh. My. God! And you didn’t tell me. What the hell? I’m your best friend,” I chastise her. “Did you say it back?”

She shakes her head.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I’m guess I’m just waiting for it to go bad. Eventually, he’ll joder,” she says.

“He will not fuck up! No joder!” I yell as convincingly as possible, but lack the Spanish flair in pronouncing my words.

“Maybe, but I’m not there yet.” She pulls her long tresses up into a ponytail using the hair tie she has around her wrist.

“Okay, okay. Just don’t wait too long to tell him, Ria. Don’t sabotage yourself because you’re afraid of being happy.” I hit the nail on the head.

She nods, tears welling in her ice-blue eyes.

In two strides I’m around the island and pulling her into a tight hug. “I love how he looks at you like there’s no one else in the room but you. He’s in deep, sister. Don’t think he’s not as far gone as you are.”

“You think?” Her voice comes across so small. Nothing like her typical boisterous self.

“I know.” I pull her chin and stare into her eyes.

A tear slips down her cheek and I wipe it away.

“I know,” I reiterate.

She nods and hugs me again.

* * *

I spend the next two days getting ready for my trip. Maria and I go to Bree’s studio for some hardcore yoga and meet up with Kat. We have dinner in our grubby workout clothes and catch up. Kat tells us everything is going well with Carson and that she, too, is falling in love with him. Bree lets us know that things are progressing with Phillip but more slowly than our three relationships. We set her mind at ease, assuring her that he is into her, but that single dads have more on their minds than hitting the sheets with a hot blonde. She feels better but is frustrated that they haven’t taken their relationship to the next level. Maria and Kat both give her their ideas for seducing him. I stay out of it. It is like talking about getting my brother laid. It feels icky and gross. The next evening, I hit the gym one last time before my flight in the morning.

Running is just what I need to release the sexual frustration built up from a two-day dry spell. I up the incline on the treadmill, and my heart pounds along with my feet as they thump against the revolving belt. Black Eyed Peas’ “Hey Mama” blares through my MP3 player as I hit the euphoric runner’s high. Images of Chase running alongside me slither along my vision. His sweat slicked chest, the shower for two after we’ve worked our bodies to the limit, the pounding sex against the shower wall like icing on our workout cake. I sigh and up the incline one more time.

After a solid hour of pushing myself, I finally hit the stop button and jump to the sides of the machine. The endorphins run rampant through my system, and I tilt my head back and practically moan. It’s the closest thing to euphoria I’ve felt in three days. I’ve gotten used to Chase pleasuring me to the point of madness each night, and it’s hard to fall asleep without that release or his warm arms surrounding me. Exercise is the only option until tomorrow. I can’t wait to see him.

“Gillian?” A deep voice booms from behind me.

I pull out my earphones, press stop on the Black Eyed Peas, and turn to see Daniel, my ex-boyfriend. I try my best not to cringe. It’s been close to a year since we last spoke.

“Daniel, wow, it’s been a while,” I say and climb down off the machine.

He pulls me into a sweaty full-bodied hug. Once our chests make contact, I stiffen. The only man’s sweat I want anywhere near me is Chase’s, and typically, while I’m licking it off his naked chest.

“What has it been, six months?” he asks.

“Closer to a year. How are you?” I ask politely, not really wanting to talk to him. Even though he treated me like a princess, I still had to break up with him. It was awkward, and he was genuinely upset that I was breaking it off. It wasn’t possible for me to get past his you want me to fuck you like a whore comment in the bedroom when I tried to discuss ramping up our sex life. Basically, I wanted to come, and he wasn’t able to take me there. Sex with him was too nice and backed by little feeling on my part. For me to orgasm, I need to be emotionally invested, and with Danny, I just wasn’t. He said he loved me often. I never uttered those words. After a less than a month with Chase, I was devoting my heart to him forever more. That ought to say something.

“Good. What are you doing after this?” he asks as we head toward the locker rooms.

“Heading home. I have an early flight to New York City tomorrow.” There is no way I’m meeting up with him for a drink or anything remotely close to a date. No way, no how.

“Oh, yeah, business or pleasure?” he asks.

Internally I groan. I just want to get my purse and leave.

“A little of both. Donor visit for the foundation but I’m meeting my boyfriend,” I say nonchalantly.

Daniel runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “You have a new boyfriend?” he says with a hint of surprise. He looks genuinely puzzled by my admission. “Who?” he asks.

I don’t recognize the tone in his voice.

“Chase Davis,” I say confidently. That’s right, buddy, someone else did want to be with me. The whore. My mind reels to our last sexual encounter, where Daniel told me he wouldn’t fuck me like a dog and he couldn’t believe I wanted to be treated like a whore. That was the last straw for me. Even though Danny treated me like a queen, if a man thinks that fucking you from behind is raunchy, he can find someone else who likes perfect vanilla missionary position for the rest of their lives. I feel bad for the next woman he’s with. He’s “no orgasm Danny.”

“The billionaire?” he asks in shock.

“That’s the one. Hey, Danny, it’s really nice seeing you, but I do have to run. I need to call Chase. I’ll catch you around some time.” I quickly enter the woman’s locker room. I don’t even wait for a good bye. The last thing I want to do is shoot the shit with my ex. I’d rather get my teeth cleaned. Besides, Chase would be absolutely livid if he knew the man so much as hugged me.

Whistling a tune to myself, I think on how I just saw Danny, a man I spent a year with, and didn’t feel anything. Not even guilt for breaking up with him. It feels good to know what I want in life, and he’s over six feet tall, broad shouldered, with ocean eyes and a “I’m going to fuck you till you scream” attitude. Chase. The mere thought of him makes my sex jump. I need him. Tomorrow cannot come soon enough.