Chasing Beautiful (Chasing Series #1) (9 page)

The masseuse tables
situated at the edge of the tent, sat about ten feet from a lightly-lit fireplace. The strategically placed scented candles made the ambiance intimate, seductive and downright romantic. The room
smelled
of romance, a mixture of roses and berries with hinted notes of vanilla.

I was guided to
the ‘his and hers’ changing rooms and it was requested that I wear this skimpy, barely there thong. I smirked.

Great, how the heck will I ever
be comfortable lying next Blake almost naked?
I was going to doze off the minute those powerful hands started kneading my back; I was sure of it.

Is romance what Blake has in mind? Is it possible? Why would he book a suite?

He could’ve gotten separate rooms, but he didn’t. 

So, i
f it is, am I ready to date him? I was and I wasn’t.

I
had just gotten out of being with Kyle. True, but I was sure as hell not emotionally ready for someone as intense as Blake. That was like taking on Hurricane Katrina.

Besides, he doesn’t seem to be keen
on long-term relationships anyway.

Apart from Kyle, I haven’t been with an
yone else, emotionally or physically. And Blake is a very intense person. How the heck would I handle him? Women were beyond helpless when he ends it with them. They were hysterical, calling incessantly hoping he would take them back. It was mayhem.

He never does.

No, thank you
. I didn’t want to be one of
those
women.

Risking our friendshi
p over sexual satisfaction?
Maybe?
  I shoved that thought quickly to the back of my mind.

I came
out of the changing room dressed in a thong and a robe. I made my way towards the massage tables. My masseuse, a tall stern-looking man—possibly Eastern European, waited patiently for me. He introduced himself as Alec.

Blake was already on his stomach and had a scant towel draping his glorious ass. His back was all ripping-hard muscles, defined and cut. He had h
is head down even though the session hadn’t started yet. I was sure he did that to make me feel less uncomfortable when I tried to position myself on the
narrow
table.

Hopefully
, that scant towel will be enough to cover my bottom.

Alas, as dreadfully predicted, it
barely
just covered it. Most times I’m proud of my “well-rounded assets” but at times like these, I wish they were less rounded.

As they started wor
king on our backs, Blake turned, reached out and touched my arm softly.

“Feeling better?”

I smiled shyly at him, “Yes, thank you. It’s just what I
really
needed. Next time I’ll be the one giving you surprises.” His beautiful face lit up, giving me a devilish grin.

“I’ll hold you to that
!”

I nodded
, tranquility washing over me as I closed my eyes, still facing him.

Shouldn’t I
be mourning the loss of Kyle?
Yet from the moment I opened my eyes today, Blake railroaded my thoughts, putting Kyle somewhere faraway and distant.

How was
that
possible?

I was
crying my eyes out last night and today I felt like an entirely different person.

Powerful hands
started to work their way down to my lower back. Hovering around where the hump of my butt started. Kneading thumbs and fingers made the towel slide lower.  I gasped from a jolt of pain and exhaled deeply, lips slightly parted.

The pain felt good
and I welcomed it. The stress I had from the last couple of weeks had taken its toll on my body.

Opening
my eyes, I found Blake
staring
intently at me. He didn’t smile or speak, but kept those magnetic eyes locked unto mine. I swallowed, nervous. Those eyes have the power to penetrate and reach inside of me. It was disconcerting.

He’s been
doing that a lot today.

Not knowing what to do, I closed my eyes again.

Christ,
I’m so screwed
! Heaven help me if he did try something.

God
knows I have a hard time resisting Blake when he asks something of me. But this Blake—pure full-on Casanova mode Blake—would be my undoing.

The smell of roses and
the crackle of fire lulled me to sleep, unperturbed and tranquil.

I
happily dozed off into a blissful slumber.

I woke up from the soft-click of a door cl
osing.

Befuddled from my nap
, I glanced around and realized that I was alone, lying there almost naked and asleep.

The darkened lighting from the candles made it hard to see much further
into the room.

“Bla
aaake?” I called out. I sat up and looked for my robe, but it seemed it had vanished! It was nowhere in sight.

Biting my lip, I pulled my long hair forward to co
ver my breasts; it was good enough to cover my nipples, but not enough to cover the outline of my boobs.

I tried to gather
my wits.

“In here!” called out Blake.
Where was
in here
? He barely echoed.

Slowly walking barefoot
in a thong, and my boobs partially covered by my long hair, I glanced around in the dimly lit room.

“Blake!” my voice laced with urgency. I started
to make my way to the pool area, but couldn’t see him.

Instantly, out of nowhere, he started gliding from the darkened corner on the left-side of the pool.

My eyes rounded, in admiration.

My, God! I’m going to have a heart-attack.

Gaping at his m
uscled pecs and six-pack abs, his wet hair swept back, I felt a jolt of instantaneous lust.

I swallowed hard.

He was
breathtaking
.

Wow. I’ve never seen his chest before. NOW, I really think he was made perfect!

Rooted to where I was standing, heart beating erratically and
barely
just—breathing, I was mesmerized by his sheer beauty—I barely forgot to take note that I was almost as naked as he was.

“Care to join
?” glancing at me, with that same
look
as at the massage table.

He look
ed like he was ready to pounce. Still and waiting…

That
look was full of yearning… and pure
blatant
lust.

My stomach flipped-flopped.

Standing there virtually naked, I was staggered, astonished.

B
eing in this room with
him
, the air—the smell of heady perfumed roses—the darkened setting of candles, making the room glow—I suddenly felt like I was there purposely to do his bidding!

Enraptured
and enthralled, I slowly walked to the pool—joining my god-like mortal of a man, without breaking eye contact.

I was in a dreamlike state.

I went in the pool scattered with rose petals. The water gently rippled as I went deeper in, but I stopped when the water barely hit the tips of my hair.

Standing on the very last step of
the pool, I looked over to where he stood, unmoving like a statue—but his electric midnight eyes, roved all over my body, branding me.

I gasped from the burning, ardent-filled scrutiny from his roaming eyes.

He moved towards me. His tanned, rippling body glistened with water. My eyes examined his abs, slowly making my way to his hardened chest, his broad shoulders, his neck, his enticing lips, until my eyes stopped at his burning, silver-rimmed midnight blue eyes.

The air was charg
ed, electric and perfervid.

Looking up to his face, I was stunned
, frozen. He was so tall and all-male.

I gasped as h
e traced his thumb over my bottom lip, his eyes darkened.

“Y
ou look like a goddess—exquisite and beautiful,” he rasped as the back of his finger gently stroked my neck and collarbone with utter concentration. I shuddered from his delicate touch.

“
You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you
, my sweet, Sienna. I’ve always wanted you—from the moment our eyes met.
I wanted you, badly
—but you were with someone else. I’ve been patient—biding time—until you were free. And so here we are.”

I drew breath and slightly wetted my dry lips.
He’s
always
wanted me? Whaaaat?! This is insane! How the heck did I not see this?

Being with Blake would be passionate—
thrilling and tumultuous.

D
id I have the capacity to go through a circus ring? I wanted him, no doubt. My mind boggled; I couldn’t think straight. As much as I was attracted to Blake, I didn’t know if I was ready,
just yet
. He was too intense, too commanding, too everything. But at the same time, I was hypnotized and my mind was beyond puzzled. It really was disconcerting.

“Blake—I,” I looked at him with beseeching eyes. Licking my dry lips, “I don’t think I’m ready
for this—I mean—I’m attracted to you, but this is too sudden—you must see—understand —that I
need
time,” searching his eyes as he studied mine—waiting for him to answer me.

After what felt like forever, I saw
him nod his head. “Alright, my lovely Sienna. I’ve waited for eight months; I can wait a little more. I’ll wait until you are ready. But I want to make something clear, I don’t just want you for your body… when you’re mine, I want your all.
Your body, your soul, your mind.
I will consume you—I’ll be your world and in return, I’ll worship the ground you walk on and make you a very happy woman,” he spoke with a strong, decisive and determined voice without his eyes leaving mine.

He wants me.

Blake Knightly. Wants. Me.

I
was excited, but at the same time, I wanted to run to the hills.

“
Blake, if you must insist, but until I make up my mind—you have to respect my boundaries,” I gave him a peck on the left cheek, moved a little closer to his ear and whispered “thank you.” I accidentally grazed my nipples on his chest. The friction tingled all the way to my core. He immediately hissed through his clenched teeth.

Oh, my God
. That felt wonderful.

“Sienna—try not to test my limit
s—because I would gladly throw caution out and take you right here until I’ve had my fill of that glorious body—until you’re limp and worn-out from me fucking you,” warning me with tested patience.

“Right”  

What the hell do I say to that?

I stepped out of the pool, leaving him as his powerful gaze burned holes through my back.

I daren’t look back unless I want to play with fire.

H
e was searing, scorching, and sizzling with fire waiting to be unleashed.

ON. ME.
Shit.

I woke up startled from my surroundings and
it dawned on me that I was in Blake’s apartment. The bedroom was simple with a touch of understated warm elegance and twice the size of my room.

A
modern queen-sized bed sat in the middle of the room with russet-colored, damask patterned wallpaper. The other two walls were painted an ecru shade, complementing the chic design. Lamps made of an actual rock in amber sat on both sides of the bed. A contemporary chaise lounge in pistachio silk slanted in the corner along with a large antique mahogany coffee table. The room basked aglow with three shaded, floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the streets of Mayfair.

His entire apartment, which was the whole tenth floor, was styled in the same
manner: modern contemporary and expensive French antique accents. The combination gave the whole place subtle warmth. I smiled. The comparison of the apartment and its owner was uncanny.

I gently rubbed my eyes as I yawned.
Events from yesterday flashed through my drowsy head. He drove us straight back to his place from the spa. Surprised, yes, but I was too exhausted to argue with him to take me back to my own place in Covent Garden.

Deep down, I was pleased that he wanted me to be close to him.

He cooked dinner; it was superb. I hadn’t known he was quite the skilled cook.  After we ate, we caught a couple of episodes of
Game of Thrones
from the DVR player. We lounged with a bottle of red wine and chocolate truffles from the famous La Maison du Chocolat—a completely marvelous way to end our day.