Read Online Chad's Chase (Loving All Wrong Book 2) by S. Ann Cole - Free Book Online
Authors: S. Ann Cole
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wimpy sidekick.
Chad couldn’t focus for shit, though.
Far away from this room, his mind was on her . The little black Byrd was all up in his thoughts. Her essence still clinging to him, stuck to his skin, a distinct mixture of vanilla and lemon.
He could still taste her on his tongue. Could still feel the soft and suppleness of her lips against his. How right she’d felt on top of him. Even when she was about to snap his neck, he’d been high on her. Willing to die by her cruel but delicate hands.
That night, Chad could’ve fought back and knocked her out easily, but he hadn’t. Because she was right: her kicking the rotting shit out of him had given him the hardest fucking hard-on he’d ever had. Big time.
For the whole time, all that had been on his mind was how badly he wanted to fuck her so fast and so hard she’d forget who and where she was.
But when she started offering herself to him, reality had kneed him in the balls, stealing his hard-on, and he’d had to back off.
Of course, having her in a room alone, for himself, he’d wanted that shit more than anything. However, having her in a room alone with him was precisely the thing that could not happen.
Goes without saying that he couldn’t trust her. If her sole purpose was to eliminate him, then voluntarily getting in a room alone with her would mean lust-blindingly handing his life over to her on a silver platter. While he’d be losing himself in euphoric pleasure, she’d be trying to find the best angle to take his breath away. Literally.
Since that night, three weeks had zoomed by, and he’d made sure to keep his distance. Careful never to let her get so close again. Not until he figured things out.
Each time he went to Empty Cage, though, he would stand in his office all night and watch her through the one-way glass like a fucking creep. Watching her dance onstage seriously got him off. He’d never seen anyone wrap themselves around a pole as skillfully as her.
Curved in all the right places, she had the perfect height—leaving him about a head taller—and long, slim waist, her perpetual ponytail hanging down her back, swaying, like a horse’s tail.
Jhay was a dream.
Half an hour before the club closed, he would head out early so he could get home in time to watch her on the cameras he’d planted throughout her apartment. The girl masturbated at least five times a day. And he watched everything—even while she showered.
Yep, he was a creep. A sick fucking voyeur.
Though he wasn’t quite sure what had gotten into him. Why she consumed him this much. Doing pathetic things like this wasn’t his MO.
But she was just so…fucking perfect. He was caught up in her. He’d hoped, for twelve long years, to see her again. Wondered how she was. If she was happy. If she ever thought of him—good thoughts, of course; not the ugly ones. For twelve years he’d done a lot of wondering. For twelve years he never stopped caring. Never forgot. Her.
Yeah, he was going to die. This girl would end up killing him because he couldn’t bring himself to hurt her. Neither would he be able to let himself keep away from her. He probably wanted her more than he wanted to live, and when he wanted something, come hell or high waters, he had to have it.
He just wasn’t sure how to subdue a girl as fatal as Jhay. For the first time in, well, ever, he was at an utter and complete loss.
“Okay, I can’t do this anymore,” he heard JK mutter out loud. “I’ve been sittin’ here for the past fifteen minutes tryin’ for shit to focus on what you’re presenting. But I just can’t take you serious while you’re wearin’ that shirt, dude.”
Kevin Bates’ wimpy assistant stifled a snicker, and Chad reluctantly dragged his gaze from the ceiling. He’d been so zoned out that it felt like he was seeing everyone for the first time that day, because when his eyes landed on Kevin’s shirt, he had to stifle a laugh himself.
The shirt was baby-pink, with
Chad couldn’t focus for shit, though.
Far away from this room, his mind was on her . The little black Byrd was all up in his thoughts. Her essence still clinging to him, stuck to his skin, a distinct mixture of vanilla and lemon.
He could still taste her on his tongue. Could still feel the soft and suppleness of her lips against his. How right she’d felt on top of him. Even when she was about to snap his neck, he’d been high on her. Willing to die by her cruel but delicate hands.
That night, Chad could’ve fought back and knocked her out easily, but he hadn’t. Because she was right: her kicking the rotting shit out of him had given him the hardest fucking hard-on he’d ever had. Big time.
For the whole time, all that had been on his mind was how badly he wanted to fuck her so fast and so hard she’d forget who and where she was.
But when she started offering herself to him, reality had kneed him in the balls, stealing his hard-on, and he’d had to back off.
Of course, having her in a room alone, for himself, he’d wanted that shit more than anything. However, having her in a room alone with him was precisely the thing that could not happen.
Goes without saying that he couldn’t trust her. If her sole purpose was to eliminate him, then voluntarily getting in a room alone with her would mean lust-blindingly handing his life over to her on a silver platter. While he’d be losing himself in euphoric pleasure, she’d be trying to find the best angle to take his breath away. Literally.
Since that night, three weeks had zoomed by, and he’d made sure to keep his distance. Careful never to let her get so close again. Not until he figured things out.
Each time he went to Empty Cage, though, he would stand in his office all night and watch her through the one-way glass like a fucking creep. Watching her dance onstage seriously got him off. He’d never seen anyone wrap themselves around a pole as skillfully as her.
Curved in all the right places, she had the perfect height—leaving him about a head taller—and long, slim waist, her perpetual ponytail hanging down her back, swaying, like a horse’s tail.
Jhay was a dream.
Half an hour before the club closed, he would head out early so he could get home in time to watch her on the cameras he’d planted throughout her apartment. The girl masturbated at least five times a day. And he watched everything—even while she showered.
Yep, he was a creep. A sick fucking voyeur.
Though he wasn’t quite sure what had gotten into him. Why she consumed him this much. Doing pathetic things like this wasn’t his MO.
But she was just so…fucking perfect. He was caught up in her. He’d hoped, for twelve long years, to see her again. Wondered how she was. If she was happy. If she ever thought of him—good thoughts, of course; not the ugly ones. For twelve years he’d done a lot of wondering. For twelve years he never stopped caring. Never forgot. Her.
Yeah, he was going to die. This girl would end up killing him because he couldn’t bring himself to hurt her. Neither would he be able to let himself keep away from her. He probably wanted her more than he wanted to live, and when he wanted something, come hell or high waters, he had to have it.
He just wasn’t sure how to subdue a girl as fatal as Jhay. For the first time in, well, ever, he was at an utter and complete loss.
“Okay, I can’t do this anymore,” he heard JK mutter out loud. “I’ve been sittin’ here for the past fifteen minutes tryin’ for shit to focus on what you’re presenting. But I just can’t take you serious while you’re wearin’ that shirt, dude.”
Kevin Bates’ wimpy assistant stifled a snicker, and Chad reluctantly dragged his gaze from the ceiling. He’d been so zoned out that it felt like he was seeing everyone for the first time that day, because when his eyes landed on Kevin’s shirt, he had to stifle a laugh himself.
The shirt was baby-pink, with
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