The next week I throw myself into work and much-needed time with my girlfriends. The past few months have been life altering, wreaking havoc on emotions that I thought I buried long ago. When I cut ties with Justin, I avoided things and people that would put my thoughts and emotions into a state of flux. Unfortunately, there is no escaping Chase Davis, and, frankly, nothing could keep me from that man. He owns me in all the right ways. Even with his overbearing, possessive, demonstrative ways, I still want him. Need him. Have to have him in my life, now and hopefully forever.

Years ago when I sat in group therapy, I promised myself up and down I would never, could never, let a man control me. With Chase, there is no question. He doesn’t use his power to hurt me. He never touches me in anger. Does he use me? Yes, he does. Often, and in the most pleasurable ways. He uses my body and my love for comfort and joy, not as a punching bag to get his rocks off or make himself feel manlier.

The only problem is after New York, I’ve conjured up all kinds of bad thoughts and scenarios as to why he couldn’t possibly love me the same way I love him. It bothers me that he picks and chooses what information to share with me, never telling me how he feels. It’s as if he just assumes I know. After years of being told I was worthless, a whore, nothing but a fuck toy or the reverse, being treated like a porcelain doll leaves a girl a bit destroyed emotionally. Daily, I wish he’d tell me what it is he feels. For me. For us.

“Earth to Gigi,” Bree says over her chai tea.

My three cohorts, the sisters I’ve never had, the best friends a girl could ever dream of having, are all staring at me.

“I’m sorry, guys. I just keep going over and over the trip in my head.” I shake my head and take a sip of heaven. The vanilla latte is frothed to perfection with the exact amount of syrupy goodness needed to soothe and warm my soul.

“I’d be too, if Tommy tried to replace his ex with me.” Maria drops the bomb that everyone, including me, has been thinking since my return a few days ago.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I can’t be Megan’s substitute. We’ve been through so much over the past few months. I’ve told him I love him. He’s shared those words with me. When he was saying them, I believed him.” I cringe and rip at the napkin under my latte. “I can’t be a replacement for ‘the Bitch’ can I?”

“Gigi, you’re not!” Kat plays devil’s advocate. “We’ve all seen the way he looks at you. He’s told you he loves you.”

Her small smile is sweet and loving. Exactly what I expect from the positive one in the group.

“Even Carson said he’s never seen Chase so happy, and he’s known him all of his life.”

Her words make me feel the tiniest bit better. I place my hand on her arm and give it a reassuring squeeze.

“Maybe he just means happy again? Post-Megan,” Maria counters.

My lip trembles, and I hide behind my latte. Sometimes having a best friend that has gone through the exact hell you have can work against you. That’s why we have Kat and Bree to balance out our damaged experiences.

“That’s not fair, Ria. It could be a coincidence that they look alike. We date men all the time that look similar. Everyone has a type. Hot redheads just happen to be Chase’s,” Bree says confidently and smiles sympathetically at me.

She’s got a solid point.

“Thanks, guys. I appreciate your support, so much.” I squeeze Bree and Kat’s outstretched hands on each side of me.

Maria sits across the table, her arms crossed over one another in front of her chest. A thick scowl mars her pretty face. “Don’t thank me. I still want to kick his maravilloso tight culo!” she says with venom. “His culo is mine! Just wait until I get me a pieza.”

“Um, no. His culo, his ass, is mine, chiquita!” I say in mock anger.

The girls bust out in laughter at our parrying. Maria cracks a slight grin. She’s pissed off at him, and once you’ve messed with the bull, you get the horns. Eventually she will have words with Chase, and I’m not looking forward to the aftermath of that discussion. Two hot-tempered possessive personalities duking it out. Actually it might be popcorn worthy. I could even sell tickets to the show and make a few bucks.

“Don’t worry about seeing ‘the Bitch’ this weekend,” Kat says. “Remember, I’m going to be there with Carson. I’ll have your back.”

Thank God! I can’t imagine going to that event knowing my doppelganger, the woman that came before me, is going to be there in all her beautiful glory. I just wish I knew what happened between them. If I did, it might help me believe that there really isn’t anything between them now.

“That’s true. Now I just have to find the most incredible dress. Something that will put ‘the Bitch’ to shame.”

“Oh, hell, yeah.” Bree high fives me. “Your body has been looking bangin’.” She scopes out my form and nods her head.

“It’s from all the banging she’s been doing with Chase,” Kat teases and giggles.

I throw my napkin at her. “Shut up. Like you haven’t been with Carson every night since I set you up!”

“We need the details,” Maria demands and cracks her neck from side to side. She looks tired, worn out. The show she’s in has been kicking her butt good, although she’ll never complain.

“Well, we’ve been having fun together.” Kat’s face turns red. “A lot of fun together. The man is a stallion in the bedroom. He does things to me that I…” She fans her face. “Let’s just say that he is quite the multitasker. Always knows what to do with his hands while other parts of his body are busy!” She blushes crimson.

“Fantástico,” Maria responds. Talking about sex always puts Maria in a good mood. Our little nympho.

“What about you, Bree?” Kat asks. “How’s sexy Phil?”

I wait patiently for a reply. I don’t really want to know the details about Bree and Phillip’s sex life. but to be a good friend, I’m going to have to suck it up and deal with the icky. It’s the same thing as finding out your brother is dating your best friend. Probably not the right analogy, seeing as I lost my virginity to Phillip. I banish the disgusting place my mind has gone and force myself to pay attention.

“We haven’t really.”

Bree stops as three wide-eyed women stare at her in shock.

“We’re taking things slowly,” she says.

“You haven’t had sex with him?” spills from my mouth in a gush of words.

She looks around. “Shh. Jeez Louise, do you think they heard you in France?” Bree bites her lip and spins a curl of hair around her finger. Oh no, she’s embarrassed. Nervous rather. “We’ve done everything else!”

“Is his pene roto?” Ria asks.

“No! His penis is not broken, Ria! We’re just taking our time,” Bree explains. “We’ve had very little alone time. I’ve been crazy busy at the studio, and on the days that I’m available, he has Anabelle. He doesn’t want to have sex with her in the house.” She crosses her arms and blows a puff of air out over her bangs.

“Oh, honey, he needs to have her grandparents watch her for the weekend so you two can have some much-needed alone time together. I’ll suggest it to him,” I offer.

The rest of the girls nod.

“You know, your birthday is in a couple weeks. That would be an excellent time,” I say. “Also, us girls can trade off some nights here and there to give the two of you some alone time. Okay?”

Kat and Maria both nod their heads and agree to babysit. We all adore Anabelle. She truly is an angel child.

“Thanks, guys, I’d really like that.” Bree looks at her watch. “Shit! I have a class in fifteen minutes. Gotta run!” She jumps up and hugs each of us in turn. “Besos!”

Three rounds of “Besos!” call back to her. We each finish our coffee and head off to meet with our men. I have to buy an amazing dress and then stop at the apartment and pick up some clothes for the weekend before meeting up with Chase. I’m dreading seeing “the Bitch” again but plan to blow her and Chase away with my outfit.

My cell phone pings and I look down, realizing it’s the unknown prankster again.

What does that even mean? Chase knows I belong to him. He’s insanely possessive, but I can’t imagine Chase would send weird messages to me though he can be unconventional at times. Regardless, I close the phone and head off on my mission. I don’t have time for cryptic messages from strange people.

* * *

I stumble into the house, holding the new dress I spent a fortune on. Chase didn’t lie about putting money into my account. When I went to the ATM for some quick cash, the receipt showed that the crazy sneak put a hundred thousand dollars in my bank account. I almost threw up at the thought of that much money. My car isn’t even worth ten thousand dollars, and a hundred thousand is more money than I make in a year. True to his word, he paid off all my credit cards. So with all this newfound money I went straight to Gucci and bought a five thousand dollar dress and a seven hundred dollar pair of shoes to match. Chase will be ecstatic that I finally splurged, but the thought of spending that much money on one outfit makes me want to hurl. The end result will be worth the spend I keep reminding myself. I have to please not only Chase, but also his mother and family, and now put “The Bitch” to shame. She’s not the only redhead who can turn a few heads. I’m stacked, and tonight, everyone’s going to know it, especially my man.

Since our return from New York, I’ve only spent one evening with Chase. The girls and I devised a plan to make him miss me. The idea was to put a little space between us. I want him crazy with desire for me by the time the party rolls around.

Over the past week, I made every excuse in the book to get out of spending every night with him. We came home on Sunday evening from NYC, and by Tuesday, he insisted I stay the night with him. It was lovely. We had dinner on the rooftop garden and made love a couple times, squashing any strangeness lingering from New York and meeting my twin.

After that, I made certain that the girls needed me for random things so I couldn’t be available to stay with him. Chase was not pleased. The first two days he became downright indignant. I had to be careful, because I didn’t want my ruse to make him resent my soul sisters. That’s the last thing I need. Instead, I promised him it would be worth the wait and to trust me. Using the “trust” word goes a long way between us.

I set the bags on the table, and Maria comes into the living room dressed in a towel, another towel wrapped around her hair. She looks like a goddess. The damn woman could be a swimsuit model with all her mocha skin, long hair, and dancer’s body. I love her and hate her at the same time.

“Hey, bonita, some flowers arrived for you when I got home.” She gestures to the kitchen table. “Looks like operation miss me is working.” She shimmies her hips and points to the table.

Two dozen red long-stemmed roses stand proud and happy. I look at the flowers and cringe but force a smile. I hate roses, but it’s the thought that counts.

Keep saying that to yourself, Gigi, and eventually you’ll believe it.

It’s the thought that counts.

I pick up the phone and dial Chase’s number while I finger the card. His “Hello, sweet cheeks,” melts my heart. Looks like he’s got a new one to test.

“Thank you for the flowers.” I smile into the receiver.

“What flowers?” he asks with a confused tone.

“The two dozen red roses that arrived while I was out today,” I respond, flipping over the card.

“I’d love to take credit for sending you flowers, baby, but I wouldn’t have sent roses. I know you prefer daisies over any flower.”

There was nothing that could remove the smile on my face at the thought that he knows my favorite flower. “Who are they from?” His voice holds a twinge of jealousy.

“I don’t know. Let me see.” I feel uncertain that it wasn’t him who sent them. I open the card and read it. As I stand there, dumbstruck, the card drops to the table, slowly making its descent like a leaf falling off a tree in late October. The hair on my neck stands up and my belly turns sour.

“Gillian, who are they from?” Chase asks in my ear.

I stare at the card, not saying anything. Bone-deep fear slithers along my spine and coils around my heart squeezing.

“Gillian? What’s going on?”

I can’t really hear him. It’s as if my ears have been hit with a burst of air so hard that everything around me sounds as if it’s coming from a super loud bass drum.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Um, uh,” I stammer.

Chase’s voice filters through the noise in my head. “Baby, read the card to me…now.” His tone is forceful and clipped. When Chase gets mad, he becomes extremely direct and snappy.

Gillian,

You don’t belong to him. You belong to me. I will have you. It’s only a matter of time.

You’re mine…bitch!

I read the card to him, and chills scream down my spine as fear takes hold. Maria comes and pulls the card from my shaking hand and reads it. Her spine stiffens. She yanks the phone from my other hand. I can hear Chase’s outbursts through the phone but am unable to make sense of anything. I stand still. Fear envelopes me and stuns me cold. I shiver as I listen to Maria’s conversation with Chase.

“We’ll see you in twenty minutes. I won’t leave her. I’m calling Tommy now,” she says and hangs up with Chase.

She walks me over to the couch and sets me down. She pulls the afghan off the back and wraps it around my shoulders. “You okay?” she asks, searching my eyes.

I may have nodded or said something in reply, but I can’t recall. Everything is going numb, and color and sound seem to fade in and out as I sit.

She leaves the room with her phone to her ear. “Tommy, I need you…now!” she says into the phone.

I don’t hear the rest of her conversation as she enters her bedroom. The moment I realize I’m all alone in the room, fear takes over. I look around the space, my eyes scanning every surface. Maria returns a few minutes later in yoga pants and an oversized shirt that hangs off one shoulder. A tank top underneath helps cover her large chest. It’s a very Flashdance look. She brushes out her wet hair, assessing me and tapping her foot.

“Tea?” she asks but I don’t respond. She must take that as a sign of approval because for the next several minutes, I watch her move around the kitchen.

As my heart stops pounding the vast, heavy rhythm, the fear of the note accompanying those flowers starts to dissipate. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my rattled nerves. Who would send something like that? Justin is the only name that comes to mind. All of a sudden, an incessant banging startles me, and I grip my arms around my legs. A deep tremble coats me as I pull my legs up into my chest and cling to my calves in a protective ball.

Maria rushes to the door, and I hear Chase.

“Where is she?” he says, panicked. He practically runs into the room.

I jump up the moment I see him. His arms go around me in a tight embrace, and I rub my cheek against his solid chest. He cups my neck and holds me to him tightly. Behind him, I hear Jack and Maria speaking. She shows him the flowers and the note. He takes pictures of both, and I squeeze Chase tighter. Another knock on the door has me trembling once more.

“Baby, you’re shivering,” he says and leads me back to the couch.

I crawl into his lap like a child. He doesn’t seem to mind, just holds me tightly, pets my hair, and caresses my back in long, soothing swipes.

Tom comes in with a police officer in uniform. I grip Chase’s arms tightly. Seeing a police officer in my home reminds me of times I’d prefer to forget. Too many times a policeman or woman took my statement after I’d endured one of Justin’s beatings and the neighbors called the cops. I cringe at the memory and try to find the strength I need to get through this.

Everything happens so quickly I just go through the motions. The officer takes my statement. The card is put in plastic and taken for evidence. Even though the situation isn’t dire, Tom being a long time well-known and respected detective and Chase being personal friends with the Chief of Police means they aren’t taking any chances.

“Did the suspect ever contact you prior to this?” the officer asks.

I shake my head.

“No,” I say and stop for a moment. The weird text messages come to mind.

“What is it, baby?”

“Um, maybe. Chase, can you grab my phone?”

He furrows his eyebrows, and his jaw sets in a grim line. He pulls my phone out of my purse and hands it to me. My hands shake, but I manage to bring up the texts.

Chase grabs the phone before I can hand them to the officer and scans each one quickly. “Fuck, Gillian. There are three, and they start back over a week ago!” he says with contempt. “Why didn’t you tell me about them?” He shakes his head, holding his hand into a tight fist.

He hands the phone to the officer. He reads them, taking notes.

“I didn’t think they were a big deal. And I…” I swallow the lump in my throat, realizing that not mentioning them was a bad idea. “I thought they were a wrong number and forgot about them until the flowers and the one I received today. I was… I was busy. I just ignored them.” I feel like a complete idiot now. Could Chase have done something sooner? It’s obvious this person has a crush on me. A secret admirer perhaps? Unless it’s Justin, and if that’s the case, there’s not much anyone can do. He will find me, and, if he does, he may do worse than beat me up. He’s the only man besides Chase that has ever used the word “mine” in reference to me.

“I’m going to keep this phone. See if we can trace the texts,” the officer says. “Maybe we’ll get a hit, but it’s likely that the perpetrator used a phone you can buy at any department store for thirty bucks and tossed it after.”

Responding seems useless right now. Chase will bulldoze over anything, and I can’t muster the effort to care. I’d rather be in his arms feeling safe and sound then dealing with the repercussions of some obsessed freak.

“Don’t worry about your phone. I’ll have a new phone delivered to the penthouse tomorrow. One that has a tracking device and a new phone number,” Chase says.

“Thank you,” I say quietly, choosing not to mention anything about the additional security. If it is Justin, I’ll need the extra security. “Are we done? I just want to take a shower and go to bed.”

“Not here you’re not. Neither of you are staying here.” Chase gestures at Maria and me.

Maria balks and protests, but Tom stops her cold.

“You will stay with me,” Tom says. “At least until this asshole is found.”

Maria rolls her eyes and stomps into her room, complaining in Spanish. I choose not to argue with two overpossessive pissed-off males. In past experience, the combination can turn volatile. Tom follows Maria into her room, and I head to mine. Once inside, I grab the suitcase I emptied a few days ago and plop it on my bed. Chase enters and leans against the wall. His appearance is more disheveled than usual, and his hair looks like he’s combed his fingers through it a time too many.

“How long am I staying with you?” I ask over my shoulder wanting to pack the right amount of clothing.

“As long as it takes…forever maybe.”

He pauses when I look up, trying to gage his sincerity. This is all happening far too quickly for my taste.

“Chase,” I start but am cut off by his arms around my waist and his chin nestled into the crook of my neck. I clasp my hands over his and lean back into him. I always feel so safe in his arms. But I’m not moving in with him, and he has to know that. “I’m not moving in with you because some immature lovesick puppy is choosing to mess with my head.”

“We’ll see,” he says noncommittally.

I roll my eyes and turn to face him. I kiss him deeply and he nips at my bottom lip playfully, lightening the heavy mood. I love him more for that.

“Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“Gillian, I will always run to you, remember?” He smiles and kisses me softly again. “Now let’s get your things.”

He helps me pull together a good week’s worth of clothing. He assures me that anything else will be taken care of. A messenger will pick up our mail each day and deliver it to both Maria and me. Our plants will be watered, and the house will be watched. If the perpetrator tries to access the home, Chase’s people will know it.

* * *

The next few days go by in a blur. Chase has taken overprotective to an all-time high. First thing Friday morning, I’m introduced to my very own personal bodyguard. Austin looks like Sylvester Stallone on steroids. His nose has seen better days and looks as if it’s been broken a few times. His shoulders span a good three feet, and he’s over six feet tall. The man couldn’t be a day over thirty but has already served a decade in armed forces. Even though I fought Chase on the concept of personal protection, I do prefer Rambo over the linebacker who hates me. At least Rambo doesn’t look at me with contempt and answers every question I ask with good manners saying, “Yes, ma’am and no, ma’am.” His Southern drawl surprised me at first, but I find the quality endearing.

“Will you be eating lunch in today, ma’am?” he asks as we drive to the office.

“I’ll be meeting my girlfriends, but I’ll take a taxi,” I tell him.

“No can do, ma’am. Sorry, against orders.”

“What orders?” I ask.

“Mr. Porter and Mr. Davis briefed me on the situation. You tell me what time you need to be somewhere, and I will be ready at reception. I’m not leaving the premises. I will be doing rounds the first few days, checking the area, ensuring that people can’t come and go unannounced.”

The information is mind-boggling and annoying. I decide it’s best not to fight it. Hopefully my secret admirer or stalker, as Chase puts it, gets caught quickly. Honestly, the whole thing seems utterly ridiculous. I keep thinking that if it were Justin he would have already shown his cards. He was never a patient man. He took what he wanted when he wanted. Nothing would stand in his way, though a Rambo clone could definitely thwart his attempts.

“Okay, well, pick me up at eleven forty-five. I’ll be meeting the girls for lunch,” I tell him.

“A Ms. De La Torre, a Ms. Simmons, and a Ms. Bennett,” he reads from a clipboard he set in the passenger seat.

“Those are the ones,” I say and open the car door.

He jumps out, comes around, and opens it the rest of the way. He scans the area. “Ma’am, please don’t get out of the car until I’ve assessed the location’s safety. I will always open your door, not to mention my mama would take a switch to my hide if I didn’t open the door for a lady, even if it wasn’t my job.” He smiles.

I like my Rambo more and more. He’s sweet, nothing like the stuffy, stuck-up suit-wearing linebacker Jack.

Austin walks me in, and as I’m about to say goodbye, we’re buzzed through the glass doors to my office. My promotion came complete with a small office about half the size of Taye’s but situated right next to his.

“I can find my way.” I laugh.

“Ma’am, I’d like to see where you sit, your surroundings and such so that I may commit it to memory.” He’s so serious. He scans the halls. Overall he looks pretty scary. Then again, Chase would only hire someone who was well trained with the proper credentials. Probably makes double my salary, too.

As I lead the way to my office, I decide to test him. “So what’s my middle name?”

“Grace,” he answers.

“And the middle names of my best friends?” I toy with him.

“Bree Elizabeth, Kathleen Michelle, and Ms. De La Torre doesn’t have one,” he rattles off without spending a moment to think about it.

“Damn, you’re good,” I say, shocked. The guy has done his homework.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he says shyly, a bit of pink dotting his cheeks.

A Rambo lookalike who blushes. This is my life.

“So one more thing.”

He nods as we continue walking toward my office.

“Would you take a bullet for me?” I ask.

“Yes. No questions asked,” he says flatly.

“Seriously? Why?” I’m flabbergasted by his answer.

“My job is to protect you, and if that means taking a bullet, I will. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again.” We reach the door to my office.

I’m genuinely surprised by his admission. I wonder who he took a bullet for. Was it during his time as a soldier? Was it while serving as a bodyguard for someone else? Where did he get shot? A million questions run through my mind as I open the door and stop dead in my tracks. Two dozen red roses sit dead center in the middle of my desk like a homing beacon to Hell. Austin senses my unease and pulls me behind him, his right hand going to the gun holster at his hip. I had no idea the man was even carrying a weapon. He looks around the room.

“Those shouldn’t be here.” I point to the roses.

He nods, pulls his phone out, presses one button, and brings it to his ear.

“Mr. Porter, we have a problem,” he says. “She received more flowers, this time at work.”

His lips are drawn tight and he pulls at the card. He opens it without asking. I could complain but I’m too scared and choose to let him handle it and stand utterly silent.

“She’s right here. I’d rather not read this in her presence,” he says into the phone.

I pull the card from his fingers lightning fast. He scowls.

“It was addressed to me. I have every right to know what it says, Austin,” I snap at him.

He has the good manners to look apologetic.

Gillian,

You can’t hide from me. I know where you work. I know where you live. If I don’t have you soon, I’ll make sure no one does.

You’re mine…bitch!

I fall into my office chair and put my face into my hands. Austin reads the card to Jack over the phone.

“Yes, I understand, sir. I’ll bring her to him now.” He hangs up the phone. “We have to leave, now. Jack will handle the situation, but Mr. Davis wants to see you at Davis Industries now.”

At this point I just nod and stand, feeling completely numb.

“Do you want to grab anything, Ms. Callahan? You won’t be coming back to work for a while.”

I close my eyes and take a calming breath. I gather up my laptop and grab the ten donor prospects files I was working on and a few project briefs. Everything else I can have messengered later. I’m sure Chase will call Mr. Hawthorne and explain the situation and my need to work remotely for the time being.

Austin ushers me quickly to the car and settles me in. The ride to Chase’s office goes by in a blur. It’s as if I’m stuck in a walking coma. Before I can grasp where I am, the elevator dings and Austin leads me down the hallway to Chase’s office. I walk alongside him blindly, not saying anything. His hand is firm on my bicep as he leads me to an office I’ve been to a million times already. Not like I need to be escorted, but if I’m being honest, the hand holding onto me keeps me up and moving forward. I just need to see Chase. My rock. I see Dana jump up from her desk and run to the door and open it for us.

“She’s here, Chase,” she says as I’m guided through the doorway.

“Thank you, Dana, Mr. Campbell. That will be all,” he says as he walks over to me.

I saw him this morning, but he’s never looked so good. My face crumbles the closer he gets, and I lose it. The door behind me clicks, and I flinch. His arms are around me, holding me, instilling light, warmth and the much-needed safe feeling I have only in this man’s embrace.

“Oh, baby, you’re okay. I’m here.”

The tears come hard and fast as I cry into his chest, the situation finally taking its toll. Someone wants to hurt me. Again.

“I don’t know what to do.” I sniff and he hands me his handkerchief. “I have no idea who this guy is or why he wants to hurt me.” The tears stream down my face and Chase wipes them with both thumbs on each side of my cheek.

“You didn’t do anything, baby. Don’t worry, my people will handle this. You just need to lie low for a while. In the meantime, you can work in an empty office here with Mr. Campbell and Jack on point to ensure you’re safe.”

Rubbing my nose into his chest, I hug him tightly. When I scrape my nails along his sides, he reacts to my touch, his cock hardening. A powerful sensation rushes through my system and something deep within me snaps.

Control. I need control of something. I tip my head up and cover his lips with mine, kissing him deeply. I start to walk backward toward the long couches as the kiss becomes heated. Once I feel the soft leather bump against my calf, I turn around and push him into a seated position. He falls into a heap, a concerned but still sexy grin plastered across his face. I shimmy his knees apart with my hands and kneel between his spread legs. Even as his eyes assess my mood, he lets me take the lead.

“Sexy, what are you doing?” He grins. He usually only uses that particular pet name for me when we’re being intimate.

“I’m taking what’s mine,” I say and pull his belt open, unbutton his pants, and pull down the zipper. I rub my palm against the large cotton covered bulge and watch him close his eyes and tip his head back, groaning.

“What do you want?” he asks coyly, knowing exactly what I’m going to do. He’s playing along, and I love him for it.

I slip my hands to the sides of his slacks and pull them down his hips, dragging his boxer briefs up and over his straining erection. Once I have his pants down to his ankles, I admire his cock. It’s large, long, and thick enough to fill me to the brim. But not now. I have other things in mind. A pearl of liquid builds at the pretty pink crown of his cock, and I lean forward, my hands on his hips. I inhale his musky male scent and salivate. He watches me as I flick just the tip of my tongue out, capture that bead of his essence, and lick my lips on a moan.

“Jesus, all I can think about is stuffing my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours.”

His words are strained and laced with sex. They rocket my desire to a boiling point.

I bring my head down and lap the entire length of his cock, enjoying the answering moan I receive for my efforts. I nibble and drag my lips across every speck of his manhood, leaving no space untouched, un-licked by my tongue. He moves his hips toward my face but doesn’t pull my head down. His hands lightly entangle in my hair and lovingly caress my scalp. It’s not what I want or what I need right now.

I suck his cock into my mouth as far as it will go in this position and hollow my cheeks on the way back up. His ass almost levitates off the chair to keep my lips from leaving his shaft.

“Fuck, Gillian,” he says.

“I don’t want nice, Chase. I want you to fuck my mouth, hard. I need it.” I don’t recognize my own voice.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. When I bring my lips around his cock, his hand comes around the base of my neck and he pulls me against his body, his cock sliding all the way down my throat and back again. I swirl my tongue around the tip and groan as he rocks up into my throat repeatedly, barely allowing me the time to breathe before my throat is again filled with his cock.

Before I can finish him off, he pulls my head back, fingers tightly pulling my hair at the root, keeping my wet lips just off the tip of his cock. He yanks my hair and kisses me hard, devouring my mouth. “Need to fuck you,” he says. “Mark you as mine.”

I nod, fully understanding his need. We both have ridiculous possessive habits, and this stalker issue is bringing them to the surface ten-fold.

He stands and pulls me up. Then he leans me over the arm of the couch, roughly pushing up my skirt. I hear only his heavy breathing and the shredding of lace as he rips the sides of my panties off. Two fingers plunge deeply inside my soaked sex from behind. I scream in pleasure. He pushes his fingers deep as I push back against those searching digits. He fucks me with his fingers a few times, prepping me, and then they’re gone. I mewl in protest just as the wide-knobbed head of his cock notches at my entrance and impales me in one hard thrust. His fingers grip my waist as he presses hard, the angle allowing maximum depth.

“You. Are. Mine. I. Am. Yours,” Chase roars, holding my hands behind my back to arc my body. His fingers yank at my waist, pulling me back to meet his brutal thrusts.

He fucks me harder than he has ever fucked me before. Chase is relentless in his thrusts. His balls slap against my lower lips, making my clit swell and tingle painfully. Every thrust is as if he’s trying to tear me in half. He puts his thumb in his mouth, wets it, and then circles it around the tiny hole of my anus. On a deep thrust he shoves his thumb deep into my backside. I cry out as he fucks both my holes crudely. I can’t see, I can’t think, I can only feel every delicious inch of his cock hammering into me over and over again, bringing me to the point of no return.

“You’re”—thrust—“my”—thrust—“woman!”

On the last word, he slams into me so hard my teeth rattle. We both come, screaming into the open office. His body falls over mine, and I struggle to hold us both up in my position over the arm of the couch. We take huge gulping breaths, trying to come down from our high but never wanting to leave heaven.

“Shit, baby, I don’t know what came over me,” he says. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” His voice is concerned and breaches my post-orgasmic haze.

“Do I look hurt to you?” I grin saucily and stand. “Never been better. I’m also sorry I came at you like that. I definitely didn’t intend to have the reaction I did when I got here.” I slip my skirt in place and walk to the bathroom across the room.

He pulls up his own pants and follows me, hovering near the door. I do my business, wondering why he’s content with watching, but keep the thought to myself. He hands me a warm wet washcloth, and I remove any additional residue from our lovemaking.

“Anytime, baby.” He grins wickedly. “Any time you want to take advantage of me sexually, consider it an open invitation.” He laughs.

We right ourselves, and Chase informs me that he needs to settle a few things before we leave for the day. I decide to visit Phillip on the twentieth floor and catch up with him. I phone Maria, explain what happened with the second round of flowers, and that I won’t be meeting them for lunch today. She says she’ll notify the girls but will expect a call to touch base with them this weekend.

* * *

Phillip envelopes me in a huge bear hug, and I hold on a little tighter than normal. He walks me to the cafeteria to sit and catch up over a sandwich. Halfway through the cafeteria line, he realizes that we’re being followed.

“Gigi, there’s a huge guy I’ve never seen before following us. He’s been watching us ever since you met me on the twentieth floor. He took the elevator with us, and now he’s standing off to the side wall watching you like a hawk. Actually, I think he’s watching me more than you.”

A snicker bubbles out of me when he notices my Rambo.

I wave to Austin, and he gives a chin lift but continues to scan the room, ever on guard.

“That’s Austin Campbell, my own personal bodyguard, courtesy of one rich control freak boyfriend.” I smile.

Phillip laughs and waves to Austin.

We sit and eat our lunch and catch up on everything. I explain what went down in New York with “The Bitch” and then about both flower deliveries, as well as the fear that’s starting to cripple me and steal my freedom. He didn’t like hearing about “the Bitch” and the fact that she looks like me. He’s suspicious of Chase’s motives, too. He doesn’t know Chase like I do, though. Even though the past few months have given him ample opportunity, the two of them really haven’t clicked like I hoped they would. Won’t stop me from wishing for it.

“So, Phil, what’s up with you and Bree?” I decide to go straight for the belt, though not the same way I went for the belt with Chase. I grin, remembering how I took his cock deep into my throat. I cough and continue. “I can’t believe you haven’t slept with her yet.”

His mouth drops open. “She told you?” He shuffles a hand through his hair and scratches the back of his neck.

“Are you kidding, dumbass? She told all of us that after four months you haven’t taken her to bed. What’s the matter? Maria thinks your dick is broken.”

“God, this is so embarrassing.” He shakes his head and looks down at his food. “I just… I don’t know. I’m feeling gun-shy since Angela. Bree’s different. She’s the kind of girl you marry, not the kind of girl you love and leave.”

Understanding dawns on me. “You don’t want to fall for her? Do you think you’d be betraying Angela if you did?”

He nods solemnly. “Something like that, yeah,” he admits. He’s such an amazing man. He doesn’t want to soil his dead wife’s memory or the relationship they had by allowing himself to love again.

“Phil, Angela loved you and would want you to be happy. She would want you to find love again. Bree’s not trying to be Angela. She knows she could never be her, and she’d never try. She wants to love you in her way, share a relationship with you, one that’s only between you and her.”

“I guess. I just… I’m not ready for marriage again.”

“You don’t have to be. Bree’s not ready either. Just have fun. Let yourself enjoy the feeling of falling in love.”

He gifts me a small smile.

“And for God’s sake, get a frickin’ babysitter and fuck your woman already!” I say with as much raunch as I can muster.

He chokes on his soda.

I pat him hard on the back as he hacks and coughs.

“Jeez Louise, Gigi. Okay, okay!”

“Her birthday is in a couple weeks. I’ll be deeply disappointed if you don’t plan something spectacular for her, and I don’t mean a present.” I nudge him in the side with my elbow.

“All right already, Dr. Ruth. I have to go back to work.” His eyes are bright and he pulls me into a Phil-style bear hug. All arms with a side dose of heavy squeezes.

“Yeah, I’m going to go to the penthouse and take a long hot bath. I love you.” I kiss his cheek and give him a hug.

“Don’t let ‘the Bitch’ get you down tomorrow at the party, Gigi. Most women pale in comparison to your beauty and brains. And if Chase needs a good ass kicking to remind him of what he has, just say the word.” He enters the elevator and goes down.

I hit the button prepared to go up to the penthouse.

“Where are we going now, Ms. Callahan?” Austin asks as I place my thumb into the LED screen to access the penthouse. It scans, and the elevator lifts.

“I’m heading to the penthouse for a long bath and a nap. You going to watch me take a bath?” I ask with a wink.

He blushes a deep red. “Um, no ma’am. I’ll just check the premises and wait in the security viewing room off the entryway. If you plan to leave, you know where I’ll be.” He continues, “You staying home for the night, ma’am?” The elevator opens to the penthouse floor.

“Home,” the word dangles on my tongue. The thought of this being my home isn’t altogether unpleasant. It’s downright appealing. I’m getting more used to sharing a space with Chase and rather enjoy waking up next to him each morning. Getting kissed like the dickens before he’s off to work each day isn’t too bad a start to a new day either.

“Yes, Austin, I do believe I’ll be staying home for the night.”