Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Cecily von Ziegesar and the CW while the majority of the dialogue is the property of the CW. No copyright infringement intended.
Gossip Girl: Have you heard, Upper East Siders? Burlesque is all the rage again, and sometimes a little raging is exactly what you need. And as always, Chuck's aiming to be ahead of the curves. But let's not get ahead of ourselves….
"You want your dad to invest in a strip joint," Blair said, smiling and clearly amused. She looked over the club's "employees" with obvious disdain. "How midtown."
"A burlesque club," Chuck defended with a grin. "A respectable place where people can be transported to another time, where they can feel free to let loose...no judgment."
Blair Waldorf studied the interior, secretly judging it and evaluating it to determine whether it had any potential.
"Pure escape," Chuck said. "What happens at Victrola stays at Victrola," he said into Blair's ear.
She made a repulsed face. "Well, it does have franchise potential..." She smiled warmly. "Chuck Bass! I do believe all your years of underage boozing and," — Chuck turned his head to check out a woman leaving the building and Blair followed his gaze to prove her point, — "womanizing have finally paid off."
He chuckled softly.
"Truly," Blair laughed, "I am proud."
"And you are my toughest critic," Chuck admitted half-heartedly. "Well, second toughest."
Bart Bass was far more critical than Chuck Bass's high school friend, never minding the fact that Blair Waldorf rarely—if ever—approved of anything.
"So...you think your father will go for it?" Blair tried to be supportive, she really did, but sometimes her words came out like a frozen blade, her audience's ears a poacher's prey as he cuts into them mercilessly.
Chuck thrust a newspaper in Blair's face. A cartoon of Bart Bass was on its cover. "It is exactly the kind of innovative thinking upon which the Bass empire was built. It is the perfect thing—I've been waiting for this."
Ignoring Chuck's moment of shallow emotion, Blair took a breath. "We are so late—are you coming?"
Chuck pursed his lips. "Gotta pitch it to Bart." Blair smiled in her icy way and started off. "Victory party, here. Tomorrow." He drummed his foot on the floor excitedly.
"I wouldn't miss it," Blair said, still departing.
"I'll send a car," he told her.
"Don't be nervous," Blair called to him as his shining dark eyes darted around the place. "He's gonna love it."
"Promise?"
"Promise what?" Blair asked breathily, sitting down beside Nate and Jenny.
"Uh," Nate stammered, "promise to help me come up with a more...creative apology than these."
Blair took the box of chocolates he held out to her. "Oh," she exclaimed softly with glee.
"I'm sorry for taking you for granted lately, okay?"
"That is so sweet," Blair crooned. "You know I prefer the gold collection," — she kissed him lightly on the lips, — "but thank you."
Just then Jenny stood to leave and Blair remembered her purpose for the day. With an icy glare she rose and rushed to Jenny.
"Hey Cinderella," she said, a smile fresh on her face.
Jenny turned around and smiled nervously. Blair's expression fell and she looked at Jenny for a good minute before she held a small diamond bracelet up to Jenny's face. It swung slowly.
"I think you left this at the ball," she said sweetly. Leaning closer, "I hate secrets, more than anything. You know that. Friends don't lie. And we're friends. Right?" She dared Jenny to slip up.
Jenny forced a smile. "Right," she said meekly.
Blair mirrored the forced smile, only hers was conniving and victorious. Then she huffed at Little J and turned away, rejoining Nate. Who did Jenny think she was, anyway, crashing her masquerade?
Chuck pushed open the door to Bart's office. "Father?" What he saw was Bart Bass and Lily van der Woodsen in an extremely intimate and unprofessional embrace. Their clothes were slightly ruffled and...undone.
"Well...Bart," Lily said, flustered as she struggled to compose herself while Chuck's notorious smirk grew. "Uhm I think your points earlier were excellent and, um, I plan to bring them up at the next parent," — she grabbed her handbag, — "teacher," — she held her hand out to Bart, — "meeting."
Bart shook her hand. "Thank you, Lily."
Lily moved away from him and walked towards the door. Chuck grinned toothily. He was anything BUT obliviously. They had so obviously been getting it on!
Chuck stifled a laugh as he pointed awkwardly to Lily's gaping blouse. Lily smiled tightly, adjusted herself, and moved around Chuck to flee. Bart had yet to turn around.
"Not much future as an actress," Chuck joked as Bart sat down, expressionless.
"You don't say anything to Serena, you don't say anything to anyone," he commanded. Chuck's smirk faded. "Lily would like this to play out in a certain way."
Chuck looked at his father. "So you're...serious about her," he confirmed.
Bart said nothing and took a seat. "What's with the business formal? Are you being arraigned for something?"
Chuck ignored his father's remark and cleared his throat. He could do this. He would succeed.
Breathe. "I have and investment idea," he began, "I think is utterly unique to your company."
Bart stared up questioningly at Chuck.
"Something avant garde, yet nostalgic. It is the perfect way for YOU, to loosen the top button of Bass Inc., like you've been wanting, sir."
Bart broke into a delighted laugh. "I am so pleased," he admitted.
"Y-...you are?" Chuck's spirits soared.
"Are you kidding me?" Bart scoffed. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to be interested in something other than partying?"
Chuck's face lit up. He was thrilled! He grinned and put his briefcase with the proposition on Bart's desk. Opening it, he found his voice again. "You should come see the place. It sells itself," he said seriously.
Bart was pleased!
He glanced at his calendar. "Um...I have some meetings, but, uh...how's af—"
"A-after's great," Chuck exclaimed, grabbing his father's hand and shaking it enthusiastically. "After's good."
"So...I heard on Gossip Girl that you were having sex with Dan out here," Blair said casually. She turned to Serena. "In streaming video."
Serena van der Woodsen sat back. "Oh, god. Kati and Iz filmed us?"
"It's all very 'High School Musical' scandalous," she replied and Serena laughed. "And no they haven't streamed it."
Why Serena was with Humphrey was beyond Blair. She saw nothing in him. Humphrey was like Little J—worthless, and a loyal servant of the in-crowd, even though they chose to deny it.
"Yet," Blair added. She turned back to her lunch. "But...I heard it was..." she turned again to Serena, "aggressive."
Serena smiled. "I must say Dan has been surprisingly good at everything we've done."
Ew, thought Blair. Yet she perked up. "Which is...? Everything?"
"No!" Serena replied, her nose crinkled. "But feel free to ask any personal questions..."
Blair smiled and rolled her eyes. She had so missed Serena. She couldn't imagine another year without her.
"But you've talked about it, right?"
Again Serena's face scrunched as she laughed off another of Blair's absurd questions. "No, Mom, we haven't!" She pushed Blair's arm playfully and rolled her eyes.
"May I remind you that this is your first real boyfriend, S, and in relationships you talk about stuff." It was just so basic. And Serena hadn't done it?
Serena's face turned serious. "I know, but sometimes talking about it or planning it can ruin a good thing, you know?" She looked up at Blair, whose face had turned completely sour.
Blair sighed forlornly. "I would know..." she thought aloud and looked away. "Well, as long as you're not worried."
"Well, I'm not, but I dunno he might be."
Of course Serena wasn't. She was the big slut on campus at boarding school...said Gossip Girl anyway.
"Is it possible for a guy to wanna slow things down?" Serena asked sheepishly.
"Only the guys we like," Blair shot back, and they laughed—happily, but also a little sadly, since they knew it was true. "But with you...can't imagine why."
Serena rolled her eyes again.
Chuck watched the woman sitting on his lap—Ana? Maya?—as he lowered a cherry into her mouth and onto her tongue. He smiled appreciatively as she chewed—all in the front of her mouth, he noticed. It was standard for women in her profession. It looked so much more attractive.
She stuck out her tongue and on it was the cherry stem, tied into a pretty little knot. Chuck took it off her tongue and examined it.
"You are...brilliant, talented..." Yes, he knew just how to seduce a cheap skank like Ana. He leaned in for a kiss, and she was most obliging.
Suddenly Chuck looked up. It was Bart, and he looked anything but pleased.
"Dad," Chuck stammered. "Uh..." — he pushed the slut off his lap and she scampered away while he glanced at his watch — "I, uh, I didn't think you'd make it."
Bart's eyes bored into Chuck's. He looked around. "And you want me to pour hundreds of thousands of dollars...into an excuse for you to be around booze and women?" Bart Bass did not play around.
"No," Chuck said, defending the club—again—and himself. "No, I... Did you read the proposal? It shows a much bigger picture..."
Bart was highly skilled at circumventing direct questions. "I came down here...because I saw the effort you made. You want to impress me with your commitment to something? Try getting a few As in school. Or maybe a part-time job."
With those final words, Bart turned and left, leaving Chuck to his misery. He could never truly make his father happy. He could help no one.
Angry and determined, Chuck followed after his father, prepared to find some way to win him over. What he saw was Bart helping an attractive young Asian woman into the back of his limousine. It outraged Chuck! His father was allowed to be unfaithful to Lily but Chuck couldn't want to be a part of Victrola? What a hypocrite...what a total skeeze.
Eleanor Waldorf held up a hideous gray dress to Blair. Well, it wasn't entirely hideous.
"You need to look elegant for the Archibald dinner tomorrow night...so what do you think?"
Blair's eyes flitted over the dress. "Yes...it'd be very nice if I was sailing up on the Mayflower." Blair was never subtle. Sarcastic and blunt...never subtle.
Eleanor ignored Blair and motioned for her to turn around. Blair turned to her full-length mirror as her mother held the dress in front of her. "Anne Archibald...was wearing her amazing Cornelius Vanderbilt diamond ring the other night. She was going on and on...about how it would end up on your finger..."
Eleanor, on the other hand, was the queen of subtlety.
This was news to Blair! Ms. Archibald's ring...? But that would mean...
"Someday," Eleanor added.
Blair grinned. "Wait, Nate spoke to his mother about our future?"
Eleanor smiled back.
"He actually asked for the family ring?"
"Mhm," Eleanor said, still smiling.
Blair smiled triumphantly. Blair Cornelia Archibald, she thought to herself. Then she grimaced. It wasn't the most elegant-sounding name.
Spotted: Bass drunk off his ass, at the Palace bar, drinking away his woes, and his investment capital.
"Nathaniel," Chuck chimed into his phone as he swung his now-useless briefcase. "Your position in my esteem has been replaced by your voicemail. So. Bart didn't go for Victrola, but...truth is I bought the house out already for tonight. And it's not a par-tay without my people. Or any people..." Chuck's key fell from his pocket to the ground and he looked at it. He sighed. "I'll see you there."
He tossed his briefcase down and sat down beside it, right on a gutter like a proper drunk.
Suddenly Lily was beside him. "Long night?" she asked.
He smiled. "Alfonso made me an omelet. I may have washed it down with a Bellini or two."
Lily nodded. She didn't approve, but she understood. "Father didn't go for your business proposal?"
Chuck shook his head.
"Come on," Lily said, and helped him up. "Let me help you."
"He was born poor, I was born loaded," Chuck mused aloud, and randomly. "But if the only way to impress him is if I started with nothing...then why doesn't he just take it all away?"
It was sincerely baffling to Chuck. He did everything he could to impress Bart, but nothing seemed to work.
Sitting the drunken 17-year-old down, Lily huffed. "Because he loves you. No good parent likes to see his child go without." She hoisted her handbag onto her shoulder.
Chuck shook his head, staring out. "I had the idea. I did the work. He tells me I can't be committed and he's the one screwing 25-year-olds," — Lily forced a laugh, — "when he's supposedly committed to you."
"We're...newly committed—as recent as last week."
Unconvinced, chuck continued. "I wonder why he was pawing some Asian chick in his limo yesterday..."
Lily didn't reply right away, or if she did Chuck didn't notice. How could Bart do the things he did?
"How could I be surprised, really?" The question Lily asked was more to herself than anyone else.
Chuck nodded, but he wasn't paying attention.
"Excuse me," Lily may have said.
Then she was gone, and Chuck was left alone again.
Blair led the way into her room. Jenny followed obediently. That was her job.
"Thanks for helping me out with the bracelet. I didn't know a broken clasp could cost that much."
"Oh it was my pleasure," Blair replied sweetly as she turned around. "Oh, wait, no, it wasn't. Game recognizes game, Little J. But you have to show more respect. This is the last time I help you. Next time you cross me, I won't be as forgiving."
Blair had a way of making threats sound charming. Even when she was scolding you, you wanted to be her friend.
"Don't worry," said Jenny. "There won't be a next time."
Blair was satisfied. "Good," she said, and smiled, "because I wanna tell you something. Something nobody knows, not even Serena. You can keep a secret, right?"
Truth be told Blair Waldorf could care less if Little J could keep a secret. If this leaked out, it would be even better for her...and it would mean Jenny would have crossed Blair again, and Blair loves her destruction...
"Of course," piped Jenny.
"Nate is planning on giving me his family diamond. It's the most incredible ring you've ever seen," she went on, taking a seat on the chair in the corner.
"A...ring as in engagement ring?"
Blair was in a happy place as she looked down memory lane. "I remember the first time I ever saw him. Maybe we were just little kids, but I knew. He's the one I wanna marry." She looked to Little J. "Now it seems like he feels the same way too."
When Jenny didn't fawn over Blair for being a lucky bitch, Blair got angry.
"Why are you not happy for me?" she demanded.
"I'm sorry," Jenny said, looking down. "it-it's just been a really weird week. Um, there's this stuff with my parents and my family, so...maybe I should just go."
But Blair was having none of that. "No, maybe you should look at me in the eye and tell me what you're hiding." It wasn't and invitation of suggestion...it was a command. "You jealous?"
"Of you and Nate?"
Blair smiled. "Do you like him?"
"Oh, no!"
Blair rolled her eyes, flipped her hair. She would get it out of Jenny. "You think because you talked to him once in the hall that you might have a shot?"
"Blair, it's nothing like that."
The Queen B raised her eyebrows expectantly. "Then tell me, what is it like?"
Jenny's eyes started to water. "I don't wanna hurt you," she said.
Blair laughed. Little J? Hurt Blair? Right. "How could you hurt me?" she nearly snarled.
Jenny looked around nervously as she started to cry. "Yesterday wasn't the first time I talked to Nate. At the ball, he told me he wasn't over Serena."
Blair felt a pang of jealousy. Little J could always be lying to get back at Blair. "Why would he tell you that?"
"Because I was wearing her mask...and he thought I was her...he kissed me."
"That's enough," Blair sighed, holding back tears.
Jenny moved toward her. "Blair, I didn't want you to find out—"
"You're dismissed, Jenny. For good."
Part of her didn't believe it. Another part of her asked how Blair could have ignored Nate's blasphemy for this long. And what if it had been Serena who delivered the news to Blair? If Nate had confessed to the right girl? Would Blair have thrown Serena out? Would Serena have told Blair?
I suppose that's why it had to be Jenny, thought Blair. Humphreys were abundant and disposable.
Blair had been ready for an hour, but stayed in her room. She wanted to delay seeing Nate for as long as possible. But Eleanor had asked her to come down seven minutes ago, and she didn't want to appear rude to Anne and the Captain.
When she descended the stairs she felt like she was in a movie. Everything was surreal. She couldn't bear to look at Nate. He disgusted her.
"Hey. You look beautiful tonight," Nate said, forcing her to make eye contact...and some kind of polite gesture. A tight smile did the trick. "Anything on your mind?"
She blinked at him. "No. Is there anything you wanna say?"
Nate seemed to think. Then, "no."
"We've celebrated the partnership but I don't think we've given Eleanor her just due. This lady is fantastic."
Eleanor chuckled awkwardly. "Oh, well, thank you, Howard. More cheese? Have you tried the Humboldt Fog? It's quite good."
Howard shook his head in refusal.
"Eleanor's right," said Anne. "Enough business talk."
"Right," agreed Howard Archibald. "Let's focus on our families' other joint venture, the union of our children. I have to say, every time I look at Anne's finger and see Blair's future engagement ring, I can hardly contain my joy."
Everyone sighed in contentment save for Blair. She was sure her eye-rolling could have been heard in, gross, the Bronx.
"Blair, why don't you try it on?"
Resisting the urge to spit in Captain Archibald's face, Blair made herself smile and laugh as she said, "No, thank you, it's all right."
Eleanor objected. "Yes, I would like to see it."
"Anne, give it to Blair," said the Captain.
"Dad, she doesn't want to try on the ring," argued Nate.
Anne laughed nervously. "Howie why don't we just let it alone?"
The Captain turned slowly to his wife. "Just give it to the girl, Anne." As Anne rose to give her the ring, he asked, "Eleanor, do we have another bottle? If there was ever an occasion for a toast, this is it. They're gonna make such a beautiful couple. Now come on. Slide that thing on." He laughed heartily.
Blair slid it on—it was a beautiful ring—and smiled. She showed it off to everyone.
"That's what I'm talkin' about, eh?" the Captain cheered.
Eleanor nodded in approval. "Oh, that's very pretty."
"Looks magnificent."
Blair thanked Anne and handed it back to her.
"Everybody, eh?"
"It's perfect on her," said Eleanor.
"How 'bout that toast, come on. Everybody, bottoms up!" The Captain was still rambling as Blair grimaced in revulsion.
"Dad why don't we go smoke those cigars we got, huh?" Well, Nate was good for a few things, Blair decided. Bon voyage.
They excused themselves and Blair exhaled. When would it end?
Chuck stared hazily onto the stage. He was celebrating his unsuccess. It was hardly worth...anything.
Suddenly Bart appeared and Chuck shot up, smoothing his tux.
"This seat taken?" the older Bass asked.
"Father," Chuck exclaimed.
"Wow, the light of day doesn't do this place any justice," said Bart.
Then Chuck noticed the Asian chick. "I told him to check it out when the joint was in full swing."
"Chuck, this is Pauletta Cho."
Chuck extended his hand. "Chuck Bass. Pleasure."
Pauletta Ho winked. "All mine."
Bart leaned to Chuck. "Pauletta interviewed me for that recent piece in The Observer. Roped me into a lunch yesterday to pitch me the idea of helping her with a career change."
Chuck swallowed. So Pauletta wasn't with Bart...uh-oh...
"What can I say? I'm tired of reporting on titans. I wanna be one myself."
Chuck looked between them. "Right, well, who better to help than my father."
"As a test I gave her your proposal that I was given to take a look at."
"The math was fine, but what interested me was the wish-fulfillment quality to the report."
"So," added Bart. "Perhaps some, uh, old-school thinking and fatherly bias clouded my judgment. What do you say?"
Chuck could hardly believe it! He shook Bart's hand happily before getting pulled into a hug.
"I love the idea of being a patron of burgeoning talent," Bart said.
"Shall we take a full tour?" Paulette suggested.
"Yeah," said Bart. He reached into his pocket, revealing his cell phone. Pauletta moved away. "You know, I've been trying to get a hold of Lily, but I don't seem able to."
Chuck cleared his throat and patted Bart's arm. "Uh, Dad. There's something I have to tell you." Yes, he would be disappointing his father again.
The light flashing outside was the first thing to give it away. Second was the fact that Nate handed something to the doorman and tried to look secretive and professional about it.
Bart hung up his phone and sighed. "She's not taking my calls. I can't believe you did this."
"I made a mistake," Chuck shot back.
"This isn't high school, Chuck."
"I'm sure she'll take you back once you explain—"
"I'm not so certain about that," Bart said sharply.
Chuck took a breath and stepped forward. "If she doesn't I'm not sure that's my fault. There's a reason she was so quick to believe me."
He didn't intend for his words to hut, but it would appear that they did strike home.
Pauletta came outside behind them. "There's a fire-eater in the ladies' lounge," she quipped.
Bart smiled and looked the place over. "You two should set a meeting. See if this place can really be something. I'm gonna try and find Lily and fix this."
Chuck nodded solemnly and watched his father disappear into the limo.
The dinner had been a fiasco. Nate's father had gone off the deep end, demanding that Blair try on Anne's ring. It was beautiful, to be sure, but Blair had no intention of marrying Nate after what Jenny said. He kissed Serena?
She stepped outside and saw Nate opening the door to Chuck's limo. She rushed over to him.
Nate looked shocked as Blair slammed the door shut. He'd always hated confrontation.
"Going to Victrola," Nate offered lamely, avoiding her gaze and answering the wrong question. "I promised Chuck; it's important to him."
"I saw your father get arrested," Blair said without any hesitation. She was both concerned and offended. Didn't Nate know he could talk to Blair?
Nate averted his eyes, embarrassed and ashamed.
"Why didn't you come to me? I would've listened," she continued desperately. He was always doing this—never communicating. It made her feel incredibly worthless.
"I tried, Blair," Nate said urgently. "But every time I try, something's got your attention—a dinner party—you know—a masked ball…" He looked away again.
"Yeah," Blair gasped, hurt evident in her voice. "Let's talk about that masked ball. Let's talk about how while I was waiting for you to find me so we could finally be together, you were confessing your feelings and kissing Serena."
She tried not to be resentful, she really did. But Serena seemed to beat Blair at everything she did. She got the guy, the attention, the publicity. She was better at everything, and the worst part was, it came to Serena honestly and naturally.
Blair secretly hoped he would deny it and tell Blair he loved her. Instead, Nate's eyes met hers for a second before he swiftly lowered his gaze.
"I thought I was doing everything right," she said pointedly.
Nate looked down, shaking his head. "It's not your fault," he assured her.
Her eyes welling with tears, Blair searched his face. "Do you love me?"
Nate appeared shocked by the question. He searched Blair's face, hoping to find the answer there clearly. Instead he saw his own uncertainty reflected there. He opened his mouth to speak but found no words, and looked away again.
Blair sighed despondently and covered her face, trying to shake away her gloom. "You should deal with your father," she said finally. "He needs you."
Nate looked at her almost relieved, but also surprised that she wasn't fighting for him as usual. He seemed to be struggling for the right words.
"You know what?" she went on, "I don't."
Blair was almost as surprised as Nate when the words left her mouth. But they sounded right, and she didn't even care when Nate looked clearly affronted. Yes, he looked affronted, and hurt, and surprised.
Blair felt uplifted. She was already over it as she opened the car door and closed it behind her. Victrola awaited her.
Chuck was already waiting outside when the limo pulled up. When the bouncer opened the door and Blair stepped out rather than she and Nate, Chuck was immediately slighted.
"Where's Nate?" was his gentlemanly greeting.
"I think we just broke up," Blair said. She closed the door behind her.
"What?" Chuck was truly surprised. The happy couple broke up?
"I don't want to talk about it," Blair snapped, turning away from Chuck. "I was want to escape. That's what this place is for, right?"
Chuck never knew Blair to "want to escape". Especially from Nate. He didn't ask any more questions. Instead he followed Blair into the club. She led the way to his favorite place to sit—the couch not twenty feet from the stage.
On their way over he beckoned a bartender for champagne. Blair took a huge gulp as soon as the flute was in her hand while, for once, Chuck left his idle on the table. He watched Blair get into the music, soaking up the atmosphere.
He had to admit he wasn't entirely displeased with Nate being a no-show. In fact, he was even mildly sorry for the two of them. Blair was fun, and didn't get genuinely angry when Chuck was playful or suggestive. He couldn't be himself around her when Nate was looming.
Chuck stole a glance at her. She was moving to the beat and sitting upright while he was lounging back leisurely. From the side her cheeks appeared to be lifted, as though she were smiling.
He was curious. What went on between her and Nate? Should he say something?
"I know you don't want to talk about what happened, but—"
"Relief," Blair interjected. "I feel relief." The smile fell from her face, but the words seemed plausible.
They were quiet and again she started to move. "You know I got moves," she mused aloud, smiling again.
Was she talking to him?
Chuck smirked and raised his eyebrows. "Really?" Of course he was sure she did—couldn't see how she couldn't with a body like hers. He sat forward, his arm brushing against hers and sending a tingling sensation coursing through him. "Then why don't you get up there?" he dared.
"No," Blair said with a laugh. "I'm just saying I've got moves,"
"Oh, c'mon," he said, nudging her playfully. "You're ten times hotter than any of those girls."
"I know what you're doing, Bass," Blair hissed, the humor almost gone from her voice. Then, thinking it over, she narrowed her eyes and looked at him. "You really don't think I'd go up there." She was shocked that he doubted her.
Chuck knew Blair. There were zero naughty genes in her body.
"I know you won't do it," he challenged, wondering if she'd prove him wrong.
Blair's mouth fell open. She turned back to the stage and huffed in disbelief. That was how he wanted to play?
She sat her champagne flute down on the table and turned to an already-grinning arrogant Chuck.
"Guard my drink," she instructed lightly.
Chuck's smile grew wider as he leaned back, actually quite astonished, and gestured to the stage. Blair Waldorf on stage at a burlesque club. Not exactly a common thought, and even less ordinary a sight!
Chuck smiled still as he sat back and Blair skipped up the stairs and onto the stage. She instantly received cheers from the audience.
Blair smiled at Chuck as she slowly began to sway her hips. She looked a little out of place, there, in her conservative gray dress—frock, more like, thought Chuck. She looked like her prim-and-proper self up there. Little by little she raised her hands to her hair and smoothly pushed her headband out of her brown curls.
"Hey!" someone called out appreciatively from behind Chuck as she threw it into the crowd.
Chuck cocked his head to the side and sat up, sliding to the edge of the seat and leaning forward. He suddenly realized his mouth was open so he snapped it shut.
Blair unhurriedly turned to her right. She placed her left hand on her hip and with her right hand, she reached across her body and lazily began to pull the dress's zipper down.
Chuck could hardly believe she'd gone this far.
When her dress fell to her feet revealing her lacy silk gray chemise, the crowd cheered her on again, and Chuck found himself standing up. He seemed unable to control himself. Who was that girl up there?
Blair gracefully spread her arms and lifted that until her hands were high above her head. She started to sway her hips again.
Chuck could no longer think. He moved closer to the stage, unable to tear his eyes away from the vixen on the stage. He knew his mouth was hanging open, that he looked like a moron, but that was the farthest thing from his mind as he inched even closer. He couldn't bear to miss a second of this.
Still swaying, Blair's left hand trailed down her right arm and fell elegantly to the back of her neck. She moved her hair slowly, revealing the nape of her neck.
Who was that girl?
Her head ever so slowly turned to the left and she met Chuck's brazen scrutiny. She was pleased with his staggered expression. Her eyes were dark and soliciting as she gave the crowd her best come-hither stare.
Chuck's heart jerked painfully as everyone hollered at her.
Who was that girl?
A cross-dresser behind Chuck came up, playing with his plastic beads. "Who's that girl," he asked huskily.
Chuck was too confounded. Did he know her? No, Chuck decided. "I have no idea," he confessed unabashed. There was only truth in that statement. That girl was not Blair Waldorf.
"You go, baby vamp!" the cross-dresser called to her.
Still looking over her shoulder, Blair teased at the lacy hem of her slip, eliciting fevered howls from everyone.
A smile began to play on Chuck's lips. He swallowed and adjusted his suit jacket. The small gesture was an indication to Blair of her effect on him. He wasn't ashamed—the girl up there was a charmer.
Blair chuckled. That was his submission. But she wasn't finished yet. No, she began to sway more provocatively, her hips jutting out sensually as she turned to face the crowd.
Chuck took a huge gulp of champagne as Blair's body rolled erotically to the music. Still curling her body, she slowly lowered herself until she was kneeling on her high heels.
Chuck smiled, shaking his head as Blair ran her fingers gingerly up from her ankles to the tops of her thighs. She reached for her beads and moved them around seductively. Then she laughed. Blair Waldorf—or whoever that girl was—gave a hearty laugh. She'd done it.
Chuck licked his lips and took a swig of champagne before raising his glass to her to toast to her victory.
Gossip Girl: As you might have guessed, Upper East Siders, prohibition never stood a chance against exhibition. It's human nature to be free. And no matter how long you try to be good, you can't keep a bad girl down.
Satisfied, Blair rose, a smug smile now on her lips. Now that Chuck and surrendered, Blair danced to the rest of the song. The girls threw a red feather boa to her and she wrapped herself in it.
Chuck, still smiling, could still not tear his gaze away. Watching her, his smile faded. This—this—this gorgeous creature on stage was the product of a Nate-less night. Chuck prayed she'd need a ride home. He'd always found Blair attractive, but this was a whole new level of sexiness.
When the song was over Blair bowed majestically and pranced down the steps, grinning wildly. She couldn't get enough of the whistling and cheering.
Chuck was almost surprised when Blair walked over to him. It even took him a second to realize who she was…and who he was.
Blair was ready to leave. She snatched his glass from him and downed the rest of the champagne.
Chuck said nothing and asked no questions. He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the club entrance. He tried to ignore the boyfriend-like jealousy that erupted as both men and women waved cocktail napkins with their phone numbers on them at her.
Outside, Blair went directly to the limo. She knew Chuck would take her home. She only hoped he wouldn't give her shit for her performance. While it was definitely exhilarating, it hadn't been easy.
Chuck opened the door for her and she climbed in. He awkwardly climbed over her, careful not to brush against her.
They were at least forty minutes away from Blair's penthouse, and traffic wasn't light.
Blair was smiling softly to herself. She was somewhat dazed—alcohol and adrenaline did that to her—but she turned her head slightly to Chuck.
"Thanks for the lift home," she said, suddenly looking away. She'd never seen anyone look at her with so much desire as Chuck had tonight. She never knew she was—Nate never gave her a reason to believe she was—and she liked the feeling.
He had to say something. "You were…amazing up there," Chuck mused, smiling, looking at her.
Blair glanced up at him—he was being earnest—and then at his lips. They looked too good. They were parted slightly, as though he were about to speak again. Her eyes went back to his. The smile was gone, and his eyes were dark.
Chuck swallowed, and his breath caught. His heart was pounding. Blair scooted closer slowly. It was agonizingly slow, and never before had his limo been so wide. The space between them seemed infinite. No, no, no, no, no, Chuck chanted in his head. But when she reached him, and could get no closer, they both craned their necks until their lips met.
Chuck jerked back sharply. This was forbidden territory. Blair belonged to Nate…but they did break up…and Blair had moved in on Chuck. And she was oh, so perfect. Her brown eyes were innocent and beckoning. And it was Nate's fault! If he hadn't screwed up, Blair wouldn't want Chuck.
Blair's small hand covered his as she twisted her body to angle herself better.
Chuck was not a hand-holder—in fact he hated most forms of affection—but this small touch sent fire coursing through his veins. She was just there—she was too close, and he could breathe her in and feel her in his soul.
"You sure?"
It took a second for Chuck to realize that it was he who spoke those words. Chuck never asked girls if they were sure—least of all girls who came on to him.
Blair's eyes flitted over his face, then lingered locked with his own eyes. Yes, she trusted him. She trusted Chuck Bass, of all people! She trusted this playboy womanizer who slept with different women every day. She trusted Chuck Bass more than Nate Archibald—her boyfriend…ex-boyfriend….
Chuck hoped to God that she was sure. Her proximity was making him needy. He needed Blair Waldorf now.
Without another moment's hesitation Blair kissed Chuck with everything she had. Chuck was in shock, pure blissful shock. Her lips made his body tingle all over. His breathing grew ragged to quickly as she wrapped her left arm around his neck and caressed his left cheek with her small hand.
He was shaking. He didn't know how to touch her, how to hold her. Every touch was too much. She was leading while he sat back thunderstruck.
She shifted half-way onto his lap, pressing herself against him and setting him aflame.
He reached up and their hands met, fingers intertwined.
Blair was tugging him to her and kissing him desperately, but Chuck was afraid to be rough. He was savoring this once-in-a-lifetime moment. This angel astride him was his for the night. But she decided how far this would go.
Blair tore her hand from Chuck's and curled it around his neck. With his now-free hand Chuck smoothed it over her thigh, pulling her onto his lap. She pushed him back against the seat, kissing him hard. Chuck put his hand on the back of her head and spun her around, pushing against her. He couldn't get enough of her delectable lips.
Blair gasped for breath at the same time Chuck's lips left her for air. She whimpered at the loss, but his tongue filled her mouth again in an instant, memorizing every inch of it.
He tugged at the shoulder strap of her flimsy silk chemise as she pulled his hair and began yanking off his jacket.
She knew it was Chuck Bass and not her Prince Nate—she didn't care. This being doted on and craved was too much. It made her so aroused…she could feel Chuck's arousal as well.
His jacket wasn't coming off easily, and Chuck knew that he would have to take his hands off her to help.
Lips still locked, Chuck shrugged out of his jacket while Blair pulled at his bowtie. She started unbuttoning his shirt at the top while she started lower—four hands are faster than two. He couldn't believe his luck. This goddess wanted him.
He yanked off his dress shirt. Blair sighed into his mouth and his head spun. What kind of dream was this? He never wanted to wake up. He could live on the alcohols and peanuts in his limo for sure if he got this every day.
As he unbuckled his belt, Blair took the opportunity to strip herself of her slip. Chuck's pants were off, and now they were equal—Chuck in his silk boxers and Blair in her panties with gartered stockings.
A low, primal growl rose in Chuck's throat. This was it. He pressed himself against her, torso to torso, blood boiling. He was so hard he was bursting. Only Blair could sate him.
Blair reached for her garters but Chuck slapped her hands away. He wanted to do that. No girls he'd had were classy. Sure, they wore garters, but that was to be sexy. Blair wore them…but that was Blair. She was seductive in such simple ways. He loved it.
Chuck rolled her stockings down her legs. They wrapped around his waist, but Chuck wasn't done. She whimpered as he abruptly unhinged her ankles. His index fingers curled around the waistband of her panties at her hips, and he pulled them down, heart racing.
Blair was actually letting him do this.
"Wait," she whispered, her mouth only a few centimeters from his, arms still curled around his neck.
Chuck cursed himself silently. He'd jinxed it.
He slowly opened his eyes. Blair was smiling. His heart stopped. If she moved away from him….
Blair opened her eyes and crinkled her nose. She giggled. "Do you want me?" she asked him.
Chuck's mouth fell open and his eyes widened. Did she really not know? "Blair…" he gasped, struggling for the words.
That seemed to be answer enough, because Blair kissed him again. Chuck could feel the smile still on her lips, and he smiled too. He couldn't remember the last time he was this happy. He was happy when Bart liked his proposal, but this…this was bliss.
Before he knew it his boxers fell away, and a condom adorned his raging hard-on. He was poised at her entrance, his heavy breathing matching hers.
Blair waited. Nothing happened. Since when was Chuck a gentleman? He was always boasting about all the girls he'd taken, and here he was, waiting for her say-so, her permission.
She opened her eyes. He was already looking at her. There was questioning and pleading in his eyes, and she could feel the heat radiating off him. She sighed dreamily.
Maybe she wasn't ready. Chuck kissed her chin, then her throat. He planted kisses all down her torso and abdomen. He kissed her hip bone and breathed. She smelled delightful. She was already slick, and his breath made her glisten.
He kissed her and Blair purred. More blood rushed to Chuck's groin. He licked her and she moaned breathily. "Chuck…."
Chuck. Not Nate. Chuck. She wasn't pretending he was her dream boy, she wanted him.
His heart thudded and his head spun and he plunged his tongue inside her. She instantly bucked off the seat, sighing loudly and shoving her hands in his hair. He continued to lap at her, his mouth watering as he tasted everything. His tongue flicked over her clitoris and she cooed loudly, getting him harder.
Never in his dreams had he imagined anything like this, and reality was so much better.
When her legs started to quiver he pulled back. Blair groaned. She wanted more. She pushed his shoulders, silently willing him to continue, but he resisted. His lips claimed hers urgently and desperately, full of passion. Their bodies were pressed hard against each other and he nipped at her ear.
"Chuck," she hissed, annoyed. She was ready now.
Without any more hesitation Chuck entered her. Her breathing hitched sharply, and Chuck winced, grimacing. He hurt her.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he murmured, kissing her lips and face softly. "I'm sorry."
There was a pained expression on her face, but it quickly relaxed. She mewled softly in his ear with every thrust. She never knew sex could feel this good. Every time she imagined this moment, it was with Nate. It was with Nate, in her room, in her bed, with candles. It was romantic, to say the least. Not raunchy and in a limo with someone she commonly referred to as a pig.
But she had to admit that there was something alluring about having sex in a limo with Chuck. Maybe it was that it was so completely scandalous to even consider. But her body was humming with pleasure, her spine tingling. She loved the full feeling she got when Chuck was inside her.
"More," she gasped.
More? He could give her more. He moved his hips faster, and harder, relishing in the friction. She was so tight—not like the over-used tramps he was used to. And the sounds coming out of Blair's mouth…he never thought he'd hear them. Actually, he wasn't even sure Blair Waldorf could make sounds like that.
Blair tightened her legs around his waist as she started to get hotter. She just knew she was getting closer. She could feel it. She was starting to ache, and she felt hotter.
Her walls started to clench around him…as if she wasn't already tight enough. He grunted and kept pushing. Chuck was going to wake up any minute, but he refused to wake up without making Blair orgasm. He wasn't even concerned about himself. He actually cared that Blair's experience was memorable.
Chuck wanted her to remember this when she thought of sex. He smiled. This would certainly be the first thing he thought of when he thought of good sex now. She was so…different from his usual partners. She was inexperienced, but wholesome. She didn't have to hide anything from him. If she wasn't going to orgasm, she wouldn't pretend to.
Chuck held his breath while struggling to hold on to reality. He vowed he wouldn't come until she did. He opened his eyes to watch her. At that moment Blair let loose the most erotic moan in his ear. Chuck fell apart there and exploded into the condom, still thrusting as they rode out their orgasms.
He collapsed on top of her, and she absently started twirling his hair. "Chuck," she said softly.
He looked up at her. "Blair," he replied. He grinned.
She smiled. "Thank you," she said after a minute.
Chuck was taken aback. She just thanked him for the most satisfying release and incredible orgasm he'd ever had.
"My pleasure," he said with a laugh.
"Not entirely," she said. She began shifting her hips again, urging him on.
Chuck grunted. He wanted this so badly, but how long would it last?
"Chuck…" Blair whispered. "Hard. I want you to fuck me hard." She pursed her lips sheepishly, as though she were embarrassed by her request. "Please," she added.
His cock swelled further. Blair Waldorf was talking dirty to him. And she was being polite. The picture was humorous. His eyes darkened with lust, the playfulness gone. Chuck kissed her, tongues fencing as he thrust into her. She moaned into his mouth and tightened her embrace.
He lifted her legs above her head and entered her, thrusting slowly. She arched against him with every thrust, melting at his hot touch. "Please…" she whimpered, trailing off.
Chuck alerted his attention to her. "'Please', what? Tell me, Blair."
He gritted his teeth as the pressure started building below. More than anything he wanted to come inside her, to fill her completely, but this was about what she wanted.
Her muscles began to tighten and her eyes fluttered shut. It was easier this time, and felt marvelous. The friction, the heat…it was too much to bear.
"Blair," Chuck said, bringing her back to reality.
She opened her eyes, hazy with lust. "I…God, Chuck, please." Blair didn't actually know what she wanted. She just knew she wanted something. She needed it…more than anything.
Chuck understood. He moved faster, harder, each stroke setting them ablaze all over again. Everything was winding, coiling tighter and tighter until they were both holding on, getting as much out of the moment as they could before they came.
Blair was the first to let go, clamping her mouth shut and humming loudly into Chuck's ear.
Her voice. It was all it took to send Chuck spiraling after her. Damn, he thought, watching Blair unravel before him. He could get used to that.