She watched him walking towards her and she hated the way he moved on her like she was prey and he was ready to pounce. She hated it so much she muttered a curse under her breath and tried to look away from him. But something inside her made her hold his heated gaze even as everything else screamed at her in disgust.
Damn it, she had to get away before he got any closer. He was half way across the huge ballroom, drink in each hand and with that look. He would be in front of her in moments.
She wanted to flee. To run until she knew he couldn't find her.
But she stood still, watching him weaving through the crowded party, his eyes only on her.
A tall, busty blond stepped in front of him. He hesitated for a moment, glancing towards the blond for the briefest of seconds, then his gaze was back on her, ogling her as he looked over the blond's shoulder.
She heaved a sigh of relief and prayed the other girl would take him away, tempt him into going with her instead.
He was after all, a man women wanted to be with. A man that made a female's I.Q. Drop into the single digits and forget about every other man in the room.
It was his way. She hated his self-confidence, a self confidence that bordered on arrogance. No, that wasn't true, it didn't border on arrogance. It simply was arrogance. He was unmistakably the most arrogant son-of-a-bitch she had ever met.
And it killed her that she still could not break his gaze. His blue eyes pinned her to the spot, holding her there as if by some invisible rope.
She wished she could say that his arrogance was the only thing she hated about him. She could be okay with herself for overlooking just one thing. But it wasn't just one thing that she hated. It was everything.
She hated the way he swaggered when he walked. The man never just walked. He always moved with a roll to his hips and a sensual, tempting gait that just made her shiver from her toes up.
She hated his voice, especially when he leaned close to her and let the low timbre of it purr along her earlobe as he said things to her that she would never allow anyone else to say.
She hated his eyes, the way they slid over every inch of her every time he saw her. Like he was taking her into his soul, committing every last detail of her body to his memory. He made it feel as if it were an image he intended to masturbate to later. And she knew if she had the courage to ask him whether that was what he was doing, he would tell her, completely bluntly and honestly, that it was exactly what he was doing. Then he would give her that famous, no infamous, wolfish grin and tell her that if she had any material she would like him to add, he would be willingly to let her.
She hated the softness of his black hair when her fingers slid through it. She hated the brush of his breath against her cheek, the weight of his hand on the small of her back, the warmth and wetness of his lips as they assaulted hers, the feel of his fingertips gliding over every inch of her skin that he could reach.
She hated all those things. She hated them with an unreasonable passion.
And she was certain it was her hatred of him that caused her stomach to tighten and flop like it did when he finally untangled himself from the blond and began moving towards her again.
She hated the worldliness that seemed to flow from him, that spark about him that told the world he had been there and done that. That smugness that said he had all the experience in the world and he was willing to share his expertise any time she liked.
She hated his complete lack of moral fiber. The man had no scruples, no limits. He was ruthless and unyielding and he would get his way, no matter what he had to do to accomplish that. He was certainly a man that did no get told 'no' often.
He was a brat. A spoiled rotten, arrogant, smug, swaggering, egotistical brat.
And she knew, even while her stomach flipped again as his voice slid over her skin and he reached her, offering her one of the glasses, she knew that she loved him.
What in God's name had he done to her ?
It was like she was under some kind of spell. This was not like her. It wasn't who she was. And it was his fault. He did this to her. She hated him mostly because, he made her hate herself.
She hated herself for wanting him, for needing to hear him whispering such vile, disgusting things in her ear in the middle of a charity auction., while her mother sat at her side. She hated that even in the middle of a party she was hosting, she would willingly sneak off upstairs with him the moment he suggested they should.
She was not supposed to be attracted to him. She was supposed to be disgusted. She was supposed to loathe him.
He didn't just possess every single quality she hated in a man, he flaunted them all, wearing them proudly and never, ever hiding who he really was.
The one thing about the man that she could respect was his honestly. He was exactly the same person from the first time you met him until the moment you realized you hated him. He never changed, never put on airs of any kind. He was exactly who he was, all the time.
She however, prided herself on the her ability to shift and blend into any crowd, any situation. It was her gift, that chameleon like ability to be perfectly suited to any situation she found herself in. Chuck, on the other hand, made every situation suit him instead. He didn't blend, he didn't change himself to fit in. He changed the world around him to suit himself. That was his gift.
His eyes raked over her brazenly and she suddenly felt as if she were wearing far too little clothing. He made her feel indecent with his gaze.
Her hand self consciously came up to her neckline and she played with the black lace that covered her chest.
" What do you want, Bass ?" She asked, managing to keep the edge to her voice that she wanted there.
He leaned into her and let his breath brush across her neck as he whispered, " You, of course. Always you."
" I'm not on the menu." She answered sarcastically.
" Oh, you're always on my menu." He countered, handing her one of his champagne flutes and taking a long drink from the other one.
" I'm not leaving." She told him firmly, trying to dissolve any illusions he might have to the contrary.
" I didn't ask you to leave." He purred as he continued to eye her with a devilish glint in his eyes.
" Not yet." She said as she took a drink from her own glass. The liquid bubbled and burned as it slid down her throat and she swallowed hard instead of making a face.
He chuckled low in his throat and leaned in again. " You know me so well."
" Yes, I do." She nodded. " And I'm telling you it isn't going to happen this time. So give it up."
He reached his hand up to her collarbone and brushed a spray of chocolate brown curls over her shoulder. Then he inhaled deeply, taking in the bouquet of floral scents he had released upon shifting her hair. " Why must we do this every time, Blair ? Don't you think this dance is becoming a bit tiring ? We both know you're going to leave here with me. Why do you insist on putting us through this every single time ?"
Her hands instantly moved to her hips and she stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief. " That is not true. I am not leaving here with you tonight. I'm going to stay here and help my mother, just like I'm supposed to."
He laughed again and it sent a shuddered all the way through her. " Just like you're supposed to ?" He raised his eyebrow at her and narrowed his eyes. " What are you, a trained poodle ?"
She wanted to slap him and she would have if they hadn't been in a crowded room of onlookers. His words stung just like he had intended. And, as if on his cue, the jealousy she had always felt towards Serena flared to life. Serena, her best friend, who somehow always managed to remain as free and unburdened by life as she wanted to be. She envied that freedom.
Blair wasn't allowed that sort of freedom. She didn't, couldn't allow herself to indulge in the sort of wild abandon Serena had always enjoyed. Blair was the good one, the perfect one, the one who always did exactly what she was supposed to do.
She excepted that role, knew it was her place in their small, intimate circle and carried the title proudly most of the time.
The only time she slipped was when Chuck was around. But then again, he was the only one in the world that knew precisely how much Blair envied Serena her freedom.
That's what Chuck gave her. That was his power over her. He offered her the opportunity to be as carefree and reckless as she wanted to be, all with the knowledge that she was safe with him. She trusted him. He would never do anything to hurt her, or let her do anything to hurt herself. He offered her a chance to indulge herself without the consequences that went along with taking chances.
And that was why she loved him.
" Alright." She sighed, dropping her hands to her sides. " You win. I'm too tired to play with you tonight. Are you happy now ?"
He smiled knowingly. " Not yet, but I believe that I will be before much longer."
She huffed at the smugness of his reply and folded her arms under her breasts. " Why must you always be so insufferable ?"
" I'm not always insufferable." He lowered his voice and leaned in again, this time holding her closely to his side as he slid his arm around her waist. " I seem to remember the last time we were together, suffering was the furthest thing from your mind."
" Chuck," She began in a reprimanding voice, but the words fell away as he placed a light kiss to the bare skin of her shoulder. Then his mouth moved to the junction of her neck and she found herself tilting her head to allow him better access.
" What ?" He whispered across her skin.
" What ?" She asked, confused, wondering why he was trying to talk to her right then when she had much better uses for his lips and tongue.
" You said my name." He explained.
" Did I ?"
He laced the fingers of his hand through hers and raised her arm to examine her skin, holding it out in front of her so she could see it as well. " It appears that despite the heat in here, you're getting chilled."
She looked at her arm and tried to jerk it back when she saw the goosebumps raised over her flesh. "I'm not cold." She muttered, when he held her hand steady.
" Then what could possibly be causing that reaction ?"
Again, his arrogance irritated her and she did the only thing she could think of to take at least some of it away. She jabbed her elbow backwards, burying it in his stomach, not hard enough to actually hurt, but enough to make him drop her hand.
" Can we just go ?" She said, turning to him to give him her full stare.
He rested his hand over his stomach protectively. " Are we planning on playing rough tonight ? I wasn't aware. Maybe I should have brought protective clothing." He was smiling so widely it did nothing but add to her ire.
" Get me out of here, or I'll hit you again." She ground out between her teeth.
He didn't say anything else, instead, he took her elbow and guided her through the crowd that surrounded them. She cast a last look over her shoulder, catching her mother's eyes and seeing her watching Blair leave.
They were silent until they were safely encroached in the back of his limo. THE limo, the one that brought back every memory of the night she spent in his arms as her bare skin slid over the buttery-leather upholstery.
" Where are we going ?" She asked as they pulled away from the curb.
" My place, but I thought tonight we might try something a little different." He moved to her and pulled her into his arms tightly, almost bruisingly. " Are you game ?"
Anything, she wanted to tell him. When he was that close, with that look in his eyes, the look of promise of such wonderful things to come, she would say yes to anything. But there was no way she would ever let him know that.
She could never let him see how completely her insides melted when he looked at her with eyes that said he wanted to eat her alive. She could never tell him how simply being in the room with him made her feel so brave and alive she entire body hummed with the power of it. She could never, never admit to him that she would offer him anything, promise him anything when his body was pressed so closely to hers. She could never let on how drunk she became off the power of feeling him totally lose control over something as simple as the feel of her body surrounding him.
No, all that was far more than he needed to know. She didn't trust him that much. She could never allow him to have that much power over her.
" I don't know." she answered with more confidence than she felt. " What do you have in mind ?"
" It's a surprise." His breath stirred the soft hairs on the back of her neck as he held her chocolate curls up and away so he could reach her skin with his lips. " Do you trust me ?"
Did she trust him ? Trust Chuck Bass ? She had to be insane. Completely out of her mind. If there was one man in the world that couldn't be trusted, it was Chuck frigging Bass.
And he knew that. He didn't just know it, he prided himself on it. It was his hook, that touch of danger that always surrounded him. It was his peacock feathers, the thing about him that made him stand out in a crowd. He was dangerous and powerful and uninhibited. And he made absolutely no apologizes for it.
" Of course I don't trust you. Are you serious ?" She told him, pulling back from him enough to check her breath.
He chuckled, low and deep in his chest, the sound a rumble of pure sex emanating from his lips. "Good. You shouldn't trust me."
" Well then, we're agreed." She smirked. " Now tell me about this surprise, since I don't trust you."
He sat back against the seat and regarded her carefully, obviously trying to judge her reaction before he explained the details of his plans. She held her face tightly masked, giving nothing away.
" I think we'll wait until we get to my place. It's better that way." He said finally.
" Are you afraid to tell me about your new game, afraid I'll turn around and run the other direction ?"
He laughed. " Yes, actually I am."
" If you don't think its something I'll like, why are you trying to make me do it ?" She asked, suddenly apprehensive.
His hand slid slowly up her arm, stopping at her collarbone, he let his lips make the same trail a moment later. " It is something that you'll like, I'm just not sure you know it yet. And it's definitely something that you need."
She raised her eyebrow and closed her suddenly slacken lips as she tried to ignore the feel of his tongue playing against her throat. " Chuck, you have no idea what I need."
He raised his head and stared straight into her eyes. " No, Blair, that's not true at all. I always know exactly what you need. And more importantly, I'm the one person in the world that can always give it to you."
She grabbed him and kissed him furiously, telling him without words that he was completely and totally right.