Chasing Love: Chapter 18

“C’mon, Alex. Let me in.”

Samantha pleads with me to let her enter the club, grabbing the lapels of my shirt in a drunken haze.

“Like fuck I will. What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Oh, Alex, you know, I needed an escape. I need you.”

The careless smiles fade away, her lips beginning to tremble as her eyes glass over. I’m no fucking therapist, but Samantha is all shades of fucked-up. One of the many reasons why I ended our marriage.

“First of all, my name is Lex,” I growl, my temper sparking while I remove her hands off me. “Second of all, this isn’t the time nor the place to fucking cry. Go back to your hotel or wherever you came from and get some rest. I’m not allowing you in the club.”

Straightening my shoulders, I warn David and his team not to let her in. My resentment runs deep, so deep because she cost me my entire life.

As I walk away, her cries become louder, but I choose to ignore her, praying to God Charlotte stays inside the club, or she will assume the worst when, in fact, I no longer have any sort of relationship with Samantha Benson.

Back inside, I scan the VIP area to find our table empty.

“She’s on the dance floor with Eric.”

I turn to look at the person beside me, it’s Charlotte’s friend, Emma, the young, sexy, innocent-looking blonde.

“Thanks. Emma, right?”

“Yes, and you’re welcome.”

She walks back toward the bar, accompanied by the guy who sat next to her at the table.

The club is at full capacity, on the brink of violating the fire code. I’ve warned Reginald, the club manager, repeatedly, to make sure security is doing the job or everyone’s ass is on the line.

Weaving my way through the crowd, my eyes are drawn to where she’s dancing with Eric. Her back is facing me and unable to resist any longer, I join her without any warning and press her body against mine.

I’m not prepared for how amazing it feels to have her in my arms, almost as if I never let her go, and she has always belonged to me, and only me. Like the missing piece to my broken puzzle, she fits perfectly in my embrace, my body thirsty for her like a drug.

With every sway of her hips, she pushes against my cock, teasing me with her perfect ass. I’m no longer imagining things, certain she wants me just as much as I want her.

She let me dance with her at the charity ball and allowed me to kiss her privately inside the conference room. Upstairs, she allowed me to lick the salt off her skin, and despite her intoxicated state working in my favor, I’m not going to play nice.

I want her drunk or not drunk. Call me selfish, but I need her more than anything.

My desire to fuck her nice and hard overshadows any rational thinking that I might lose Charlotte if I push her. Knowing the kitchen out back isn’t in use tonight, I grab her hand, pulling her away from the dance floor.

I lead her into the kitchen, taking her immediately against the refrigerator. I lose all sense of control with her, kissing every part of her body, finally taking her nipples in my mouth. I tug on them with my teeth, hearing her moan just like she used to every time I fucked her.

My cock is throbbing with every moan escaping her beautiful lips. I know she wants me, desperate to have me enter her.

But I’m not going to play nice.

She thinks she can taunt me with a ring on her finger? She doesn’t know who she’s messing with. I didn’t become a billionaire by playing nice.

I play dirty to get what I want.

And I want her.

The obsession with making her mine again is my only focus.

I thrust my fingers into her, groaning as they slide so effortlessly. Careless in my actions, I keep finger-fucking her roughly, relishing in how soaked her pussy becomes around my fingers.

Inside my pants, I’m ready to fucking blow. All this control I had, perhaps I am fucking wrong. I’m tormenting myself just as much.

With her chest heaving, and her body wriggling from the intensity, I sense her impending orgasm but pull my fingers out just in time. Raising it to her lips, I watch her taste her own juices before running my tongue along her mouth and tasting her arousal.

I need her to beg for it.

The sadistic side of me wants to see her suffer. I need the power trip, desperate for her to beg me to fuck her nice and hard like it’s always been only me. I must be the only thing on her mind, the only person who invades her dreams and visualizes when she opens her eyes. The only voice in her head, the only scent she can smell.

She has to understand a world will not exist without me.

We both stop, uneven breaths between us as our stares fixate on one another. She lies completely petrified under my command, her lips quivering while her hands fumble with the buckle of my pants. I’m in control, the narcissist emerging is savoring this moment of gratification.

A creaking noise startles us both, forcing us to pull away from each other.

It’s only the janitor. He apologizes for the interruption, and I allow him to continue, immediately regretting the words escaping my mouth.

Why the fuck did you let her go?

Charlotte is quick to escape, but I catch up, warning her that she belongs to me. And in true style, she shouts hurtful words in an attempt to protect herself.

I tell her she’s wrong, that I’ve wanted her since the last time I saw her on the clifftop back home, that my life has been full of nothing but regret. Every decision I thought was right led me to a lonely dead end.

Only after I left Samantha, did I start picking up the pieces. I decided Charlotte was better off without me after being told she had moved on. I buried myself in my work, building my empire, never taking a moment to feel the regret that constantly lingered, and here she stands in front of me telling me that what just happened was nothing but lust and curiosity—don’t read more into this.

How dare she assume I’m just like everyone else.

I might have been young and foolish, but I loved her like no other man could. I’ve fucked-up so many times that I’ll admit now, I just need a final chance to make things right.

Until she tells me tonight’s all one big mistake.

You’re nothing to me. I’m marrying him.

I lean against the wall, willing her hurtful words to stop. The lack of her presence is leaving a huge ache inside me, rubbing the self-inflicted wound inside my chest. I need to let her go, just for tonight. Maybe I’m pushing her, but I don’t know what else to do. She isn’t a business deal, and I should stop treating her like one. And perhaps my earlier desire to control her has caused more damage for me than it has to her. She will go home to him, and I’ll spend the night alone. Our worlds have reversed, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it now.

Inside the corridor, I stand there trying to regroup my thoughts, but all I see is her running back home to him.

A door opens, and Reese is standing at the entrance.

“Sir, the lady outside is refusing to leave. How would you like me to proceed with this?”

“I’ll take care of it,” I grit, willing this night to end. “The last thing we need is to be in the tabloids. Are the paparazzi still there?”

“No, sir, I believe David took care of them earlier.”

I pat him on the shoulder, following him to the main entrance of the club.

“Alex, baby, please. It’s been an hour. Let me in,” Samantha whines, looking like a train wreck with her mascara rather questionably sliding down her cheeks.

I grab her arm, forcefully, and pull her aside. “You need to stop causing a scene outside my club. I don’t know what has gotten into you, but I’m putting you in the next cab that drives past.”

“Why won’t you let me in? Please, just for old time’s sake? C’mon, angel.”

Her arms wrap around my waist, latching on like a leech. I’m disgusted by her overbearing affection and the use of the word angel. It triggers an unwelcome memory.

As I try to peel her away from me, she laughs. “Look what the cat dragged back. Is she the reason why, Alex?”

I swiftly turn around and see Charlotte standing at the entrance. Her eyes stare back at us, dull and lifeless. With her hands clutching her stomach, Eric holds onto her arm, pulling her away in the opposite direction.

Removing Samantha’s arms off me, I push her away and run to the cab Charlotte is hopping into. Eric has placed her inside before I can reach the cab, shutting the door on my face. Charlotte is facing straight forward without a single blink, obviously in a catatonic state.

I bang on the window. “Charlotte, please, it’s not what you think.”

Eric opens the window the same time he asks the driver to wait.

“Look, Lex, I don’t know what to think, but Charlie is pretty wasted right now, so I doubt she’ll remember what she saw.”

“I need to talk to her. I need to explain,” I tell him in desperation.

“She’s my best friend, and I don’t want to see her hurt. Just give her time. At least let her sleep this off.” He waves goodbye, closing the window as the cab drives off.

Back at the hotel, I sit on the balcony running my hands along the rim of my glass filled with scotch. My phone sits beside me, tormenting me as I so desperately want to call her. I need to make sure she’s okay, to explain what happened, fearing I may lose her again.

As the sun begins to rise, I realize calling her so early in the morning would only parade my desperation. Despite the lack of sleep, my mind refuses to shut down, my eyes betraying me when I attempt to close them. The images of last night teasing me—the look on her face as she moaned at my touch, the pure ecstasy that her body so obviously craved.

In frustration, I press my phone against my forehead, trying to control this obsession with her. Put the fucking phone down. Placing it on the table, I replace it with a scotch in my hand, drinking the last remnants of the bottle.

It no longer burns, unable to mask the pain of my careless actions last night.

No matter what I do or say, Charlotte isn’t willing to forgive me. I have to find a way to make her talk and listen. Still uncertain if she knows why I had no choice but to choose Samantha nine years ago, forgiveness will be forthcoming.

But if I’ve learned anything over the last forty-eight hours, Charlotte is headstrong with a vengeance.

This battle should’ve been a straight win, but I’m no longer dealing with the girl I left behind in high school.

Charlotte is all woman, and her shield is her most powerful weapon. It’s held so close to her heart it’s almost impossible to get back into a place where I once belonged.