Chase. Flora Dain

Chase - Flora  Dain


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dancing with abandon. All at once she spots us and bids a hasty farewell to her partner, who disappears into the crowd. She hurries over to greet us, but now I see Darnley tap a message into his phone. As she takes us both by the arm and leads us over to the bar, she chatters eagerly while we order cocktails, and happily settles onto a barstool, like she always hangs around in bars on her own. Darnley remains tight-lipped.

      Soon she sidles up to me. ‘Powder room?’

      We go together, arm-in-arm.

      ‘Having fun?’ I smile at her, puzzled. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright. She’s a world away from the sullen child I met earlier.

      I search for something to say. Babysitting spoilt rich kids is no way to use up our precious weekends. ‘I hope you enjoyed the play. You’re welcome to sit in any time.’

      She puts her head on one side. ‘Thank you. It’s such a sad story.’ All of a sudden her lip trembles. ‘And please, don’t tell him about me next time.’ Her lovely eyes fill with tears.

      She looks unbearably sad and now I sense real pain. Poor kid, but it’s a relief there’s something real below her brittle spoilt-brat surface. I look at her with new interest.

      ‘I didn’t tell him that time,’ I say gently. ‘You did that by using my phone.’ It occurs to me that maybe Darnley would sooner conceal his methods. It might be diplomatic to gloss over her casual phone use.

      It also occurs to me that she was on-site for some reason. If she’s on a roll she’s troubled in some way. Our students don’t just wander in off the street.

      I pat her hand and say nothing.

      Definitely rehab.

      I hover while she fusses with her hair and make-up and finally slips into a cubicle. As another one frees up I do too, listening out for her. Other women come in and chatter and leave. When I emerge all’s quiet but she’s still in there so I hang around to wait.

      Minutes later I frown. Is she on something? Darnley will never forgive me

      ‘Cola?’ I push at her cubicle door.

      The cubicle’s empty.

      Panic rising, I reach for my phone then pause. Maybe she’s back at the table. I glance round the door but Darnley’s sitting alone at our table, his men nearby.

      Is she dancing? If I go back in without her Darnley will freak. Think.

      I check the small corridor I’m standing in. The locked doors are all marked ‘Private’ except one marked ‘Fire exit’, right at the end. When I push it I find it leads outside.

      Could someone have come in? I reach for my phone, seriously alarmed now. As I do it the door swings open and Cola appears.

      ‘Where the heck have you been?’ I sound shrill. ‘I thought …’

      ‘Thought what?’ She dashes a hand to her face, like she’s been crying.

      ‘You OK?’ I touch her arm.

      ‘You spying on me too?’ She snatches her arm away and now she’s back to the charm-school dropout. ‘I wanted some air, that’s all.’

      ‘Darnley’s worried about you. He says –’

      She pushes past me. ‘I know what he says. I want to leave now. I’m tired of dancing.’

      Back at our table Darnley takes one look at her sour expression, so different from a few minutes ago, and frowns at me. ‘What happened?’

      I roll my eyes. ‘How should I know?’

      I’m still dizzy from her mood-swing. The rehab’s definitely not working.

      We drive back in silence, thankfully without Cola, who’s now en route to her hotel. Darnley’s expression is unreadable. As we walk in and we’re finally alone he glares down at me. ‘What’s going on? How much do you know about all this, Ella? A call came from your cell. You take for ever in the powder room. Now she’s upset. What happened?’

      ‘She slipped out by the fire exit. Just for some air,’ I add quickly. ‘If I didn’t know better I’d say she was meeting somebody. Darnley, what’s wrong with her?’

      He frowns. ‘How do I know? Stalking’s a nasty business. It gets to people. Lucky one of the men was stationed outside.’

      At my furious look he smiles and pulls me into his arms. ‘Hey. Just testing. Forget about her. Now for my revenge.’

      His mouth fastens on mine before I can catch my breath or prepare. His kiss is urgent and hungry, tasting me like I want to be tasted, lingering like I need him to linger. His tongue has a language of its own and now its subtle signals reach every part of my body, sending sensation rippling out all over me.

      When he pulls away his look is veiled but strangely intense. ‘I like to see you out on the town. But tonight something tells me you’re uneasy. Why? Is it because you’re with me? Or because we had company?’

      I press against him, warmed through with his glorious male heat. I can feel him swelling against me. Little shifts and flexes of his muscles tell me I’m wanted and tell me how much. And one part in particular is telling me very clearly indeed. I can feel it stiffening, ready for action.

      ‘It’s just … I’m not used to the security detail. Kind of cramps my style.’

      His expression hardens. ‘Too bad. That’s how I work.’

      I gaze up at him in despair. ‘Yes, but it’s hardly normal, is it? Most people have fun without an armed guard in tow.’

      His arms wind around my back, then one hand eases down my zipper and the other slips inside my dress and splays out all over my tender rump, where the effects of his spanking are flowering fully under the tight satin. ‘It’s just for a couple of days. And they’re not here now. Or hadn’t you noticed in all the excitement? I like this dress, by the way, but we’re going to have to rearrange it a little.’

      The rearrangement is swift and dramatic. He bunches it round my hips, hauls the top down to pin my arms and lifts me bodily over to the bed. In seconds he’s kneeling over my face, his eyes burning down into me with all the fire he’s kept hidden so long.

      Excitement flares. The pressure at his flies is startling now. I feel an answering pressure down below. With an effort I lean up to try to unfasten him with my teeth, one of my most effective party tricks whenever we reach this point.

      With a grin he pushes me back down. ‘Not so fast, missy. You’ve still got some ground to make up from your schoolgirl antics earlier. I’ll do the honours here.’ He’s smiling as he frees himself. His massive column juts in my face, my doom and my delight, and as he edges it just within reach of my eager lips I lap eagerly, the light scent of his shower gel blending with his body heat in a heady mix that stirs my senses and sends a fierce glow straight to my groin.

      ‘Whoa, easy. Leave some for later.’ His voice comes out in a rasp, surprising me a little. Why is he so moved by this? Why tonight? He’s been watching me all evening, like he can’t get enough of me. Now he’s close to the finish line already and we’ve hardly started …

      ‘Lick it a little. All the way. I like to see your tongue. You look like a kitten with cream.’

      I obey eagerly, nervous at first and then eager, thrilling to the salty, silky surfaces he shifts to present to me, making it easier for me to reach. His breath is uneven now as he holds off from release, determined, as always, to make me beg.

      Just when I’m sure he must erupt into orgasm he pulls away with an effort, wrenches my dress a little further down my arms, scoops my breasts out of my lacy bra cups and plunders them with his mouth.

      I writhe below him as he feasts first on one and then the other, his kiss deep and arousing as he fastens on each swollen, stiffening nipple in turn,


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