A/N: This came to me a couple weeks ago and I'm just now getting to sit down and write it. It was inspired by the following quote (see below) & takes place post-series finale. Enjoy and please review! =) Softspoken will be updated next.
"…and maybe women wear a push-up bra because they like the supportive feeling. Maybe. But I doubt it!"
-Jerry Seinfeld (stand-up on Jay Leno 3/13/13)
He'd made his way through the party with ease, as he did with all the other company gatherings, nodding his head at acquaintances and bringing investors up to date with the success of Bass Inc. until he found himself reclining at the bar with a glass of scotch in his hand as was per usual.
Blair was home with the twins. They were just recovering from the fever and only six months old. Henry was staying with Lily for the weekend to avoid any more stress, which worked out for all parties since Lily had been begging for some time with her eldest grandson for weeks.
He'd wanted to stay home with Blair. She shouldn't have to stay with their sick children alone. But she'd insisted that she would be fine, especially after having asked Dorota to stay late. Besides, they were already asleep and she didn't much feel like going out after having stressed over them all evening. It was the first time they had actually gotten sick.
So, here he was, sitting at the bar at another work party, checking his watch every five minutes to see how close it was to him being there an hour. That was a safe time for him to leave, he decided. He wanted to get home to his family, take over for Blair – and Dorota if need be – should their babies' fever revive itself. He could actually feel himself getting hot with worry and tugged at the collar of his shirt and tie in an attempt to relieve himself from the sudden tightness he felt.
He checked his watch again. Only two minutes had passed since he'd last checked. It was aggravating. He glanced at the doorway which led to the front hall to see if anyone else was trying to make a quick escape, and that was when he saw it.
His eyes bulged and he blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't imagining it. But sure enough, there was his wife, Mrs. Blair Bass, handing over her coat to the servant of the house and walking down the hall in search of him no doubt. Her dress was very revealing.
In all truth, it probably wasn't that revealing, no worse than anything Serena wore certainly, but she was still trying to get some of her baby fat off – even if he couldn't find a fault with her body. She hadn't worn something this snugly fit and low cut since two weeks before she'd found out she was pregnant for the second time. It didn't help that the sparkles decorating some portions of her dress most accumulated at the cleavage of her dress.
She was wearing a push-up bra. It was obvious. It made his mouth water and his eyes bulge again. It wasn't inappropriate for the party necessarily, but it felt like it when she completely bypassed him after catching his gaze for a split-second and the host of the house pressed his lips to the back of her hand, guiding her to greet the other guests.
Chuck watched her work the room, probably giving them a somewhat altered version of events than what she had given him and a brief explanation as to why she had come late. He was torn between aggravation at her and himself, her for completely dismissing him and driving him to that hint of jealousy with all the attention she was getting from the men at the party and him for getting so turned on by how stunning she looked that it was actually becoming hard to hide it.
How dare she turn him on at a company party that she'd come late to and should have been at home resting during.
When it appeared she'd gotten through most of the crowd he saw her start to make his way in his direction and was partly relieved. It showed she at least wasn't trying to punish him for some unknown reason he'd started wracking his brain for.
"Hey," she greeted, but he didn't miss the sultry tone to her voice. He couldn't take his eyes off of her.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, choking half way through his question.
She raised her eyebrows in response – and amusement.
He cleared his throat.
"I mean, I thought you were staying home with the twins," he said by way of explanation.
She shrugged and slid onto a bar stool beside him, her elbow propping onto the bar making her cleavage more pronounced and the fluttery skirt of her dress lifting past her knees when she was settled. She signaled to the bartender for a cocktail.
"Dorota has it under control. Their fever lifted, so I thought I'd try to make it since it wasn't too late yet." She took a sip of her drink and flirtatiously smiled at the bartender in thanks.
He couldn't believe her.
"I thought you were tired," he rasped out, his irritation slipping more and more to himself than to her. She was teasing him, and he was falling for it. In the middle of a company party.
She crossed one leg over the other at the knee, revealing her higher than high heels and he swallowed again.
"I got over it."
She shrugged again and his eyes darkened. The bartender had gone to the far end of the bar to assist another customer, so he tugged roughly on one of the legs of his wife's bar stool towards him. She gasped and clutched the edge of the bar to keep herself from falling. But when she lifted her eyes to her husband's, she saw the heat and matched it with her own cool satisfaction. She smirked and took another sip of her drink which hadn't managed to spill somehow.
"Did you now?" he asked smoothly, any bumbling behind him as he traced his fingers over the curve of her uncovered knees.
Her eyes were hot now, and hooded. They were on the same wavelength, all walls or pretenses gone. Just pure, smoldering fire.
"Aren't you glad I'm here?" she purred, covering his hand with her own to stop his wandering hand.
He smirked. "Indeed. Just surprised is all."
She bit her bottom lip, putting the emphasis on her ruby lipstick. His eyes were glued to it.
"I'm glad," she said, her lips parting.
His eyes lifted to hers and then briefly fluttered to her cleavage and to the smug expression on her face. She'd obviously caught him. Not that he'd try to hide it. He never tried to hide his reaction to her when they were alone. Unless it was a part of one of their games. Then it was up for grabs who would hold out the longest.
"Your outfit surprises me," he said.
"Don't you like it?" she asked coyly, taking one of her silk curls and wrapping it around her finger, tilting her head to the side innocently.
"I do," he said, disgruntled that he'd started to lose his voice again. "I can't remember the last time I saw you in such a delicious frock." He took a sip of scotch, wishing he'd just downed the whole thing and asked for another, but he wanted them alone. He could feel the rising tension between them and he didn't want the spell broken.
She shrugged, emphasizing her cleavage again as she set her glass down.
"It was a special occasion."
He didn't buy it, but right now he didn't care.
"That lacy push-up bra of yours probably wasn't necessary though."
She smiled like she knew she'd won, and he was starting to think she had.
"I like the support," she said still smiling.
"I doubt it."
She blinked, feigning offense.
"After having to rock your children to sleep and pacing in frustration when their fever wouldn't go down, I needed some support."
He frowned briefly, remembering their prior situation.
"You should've stayed home to rest," he said, concerned and rubbing his thumb over her hand and kissing it.
She smiled softly at him, loving that he loved her. But her expression smoothly transitioned to the innocent façade she'd donned earlier and he knew he was in for a torturous treat. She avoided his eye contact momentarily.
"I had other needs that needed to be met," she said, her eyes full of desirous heat when she looked back up at him.
He nearly lost breath, and then swallowed hard. He quickly looked back at his watch. Still fifteen to twenty minutes till they could respectably leave.
"We can leave soon," he promised. "In about five minutes or so we can start heading back through the crowd and…" his breath got stifled again as her fingers started skipping up the length of his arm till they were at the base of his neck.
He couldn't breathe.
Too slow for his taste she moved in and planted a tantalizing kiss on his lips. When she stuck her tongue in his mouth, he pulled away.
"Blair," he warned. "Not here," he said, trying to regain his breath. They were so close that he couldn't look her directly in the eye without pulling back further, so his eyes were glued to her breasts, which were rising and falling quicker due to their heated kiss.
She so hadn't worn that bra for support.
He swallowed again, not aware at first when her hand started to crawl up his leg. He stopped it before it reached his crotch. Then he did pull back and looked at her innocent façade. When she bit her bottom lip like that it was one of his most successful undoings.
He groaned softly when he released her hand and she covered the protruding hump coming from his crotch. He gasped, only half aware of the world around them.
"We can go now," he swallowed, nodding and closing his eyes.
She leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "Or we could stay."
With sheer willpower and nothing else, he pulled back and made an effort to compose himself.
"As much as I delight in our very public rendezvous, this is a company party, Blair." He glanced up at her. She looked completely unthwarted, no doubt saw this as a challenge she would win with ease. "I can't risk looking anything but professional here. You will just have to wait till we get home, or maybe…" he smirked, deciding this new idea was brilliant, "in the limo?" he suggested.
She sighed and stroked the lapel of his jacket.
"That would avoid any possible risk of discovery," she agreed.
Relief and excitement soared through him.
"Though…"
His face fell.
"It's not exactly like you aren't being suspicious feeling your wife out at the bar," she pointed out.
His jaw dropped.
"You are the one feeling me up," he defended. She blinked innocently up at him. "And besides, no one seems to be looking on at us. We're away from the crowd."
"Mmm, yes, this is true…but to be truthful, Chuck, I wasn't suggesting we go at it on top of the hors d'oeuvres table." Her eyes twinkled.
He almost laughed, but then swallowed and altogether decided to give in.
"The closet?" she suggested, pleased when he stood up, grabbed her hand and tried to walk as normally as he could out of the room.
He laughed. "I don't think so. People are still coming in."
She pouted.
"We'll see if they have a guest bedroom," he tugged towards the stairs, but she stopped stock still before they got there.
"That isn't exciting at all," she complained.
He turned back to her, surprised, and scoffed.
"The point is to not get caught, Blair. If people go in to get their coats or put them there…"
She walked slowly towards him. "It's a big closet," she said. "And…" her eyes traveled up his body until they rested on his lips. "Even though you think people are still coming and will put their coats away, most everybody is here that I can think of, and the party will be going on for a few more hours yet…"
"You can't be serious."
Her eyes narrowed and she ripped her hand away.
"Fine. See if they have a guest bedroom."
He didn't like that she was upset, but decided this would lead to angry sex and that would be awfully delicious so he started up the stairs without trying to convince her this was the best course of action.
"The Chuck Bass I knew in high school could have gotten away with doing it anywhere," she muttered when he'd reached the halfway mark up the stairs and it made him freeze.
Because she was right.
The hell with it.
He turned around, came back down the stairs as fast as he could manage, pushed her up against the closet door as quickly and quietly and smoothly as she could manage. She gasped. Then in one instance he'd opened the door and pushed her inside past the largest cluster of coats, grateful that this particular manager of his department at Bass had one of the largest mansions in New York.
Once they'd gotten through the lot and to the back, he saw a floor-to-ceiling glass window and knew it would excite her. The glass was patterned in a way that would blur the view of what was inside to the outsider, but figures would still be deciphered and the glass would be cool since it was the middle of winter.
He kissed her passionately so she couldn't see where they were going, much less think straight. Her shoes came off and so did his jacket and tie. Then he had her propped against the glass and she gasped again, momentarily pulling back to look at him with wide eyes. His heady stare melted her as did the firm member pressing against her from inside his pants. It was intolerable. She clutched at him as he nipped at her. With trembling fingers she unbuckled his belt and pulled down his zipper.
Within minutes he was pumping inside of her and swallowing every scream with a passionate kiss. Regrettably she tore part of the back of his shirt with her nails, but he had his jacket to cover it up, so it was a passing thought.
His thrusts were fast and relentless. Her hips moved against him when she managed to use her weight to push him away from his stance to the couch located just a few feet away. She ground against him and muffled his growling, rising and falling till he worried the slapping noise would somehow startle the people standing outside down the hall in a room on the other side of the house with how loud it was. He finally grabbed her hips to still her and thrust up into her until she nearly lost control.
Then he flipped them, pushed her into the couch and moved in and out of her so torturously slow that within seconds she came, and he followed, because her responses always drove him over the edge.
Panting, just barely breathing, and now limply clinging to each other, he rested his forehead against her collarbone, wishing they were at home in bed so they could just fall asleep like this, wrapped in each other's arms.
"We can probably go now," she said, breathless.
He wanted to laugh or smile or even smirk, but he was too tired.
"In a minute."
She smiled and threaded her fingers through his hair. It had the most calming effect on him. When her thumb started a line down his back though, he lifted his head.
"Time to go home," he said, because she would get him aroused again. It happened so quickly with her.
She nodded and he lifted himself off of her, holding out his hand to help her to her feet. They made themselves as presentable as possible, found their jackets and shoes and walked out of the large closet.
"Mr. Bass."
Chuck froze and so did Blair. It was the host.
"Are you leaving so soon?"
Relief.
Slowly, both of them turned around. Chuck opened his mouth to respond, but the man turned to Blair before he could.
"Mrs. Bass, I didn't know you had come. Mr. Bass said you were home with the children."
She forced a polite smile.
"Yes, they had a fever," she said.
"Oh no." He frowned.
"I did come in earlier though. You greeted me at the door, remember?"
He flushed briefly, remembering how he'd guided her through the room and kissed the back of her hand on entry. He felt Chuck's eyes on him even if his acts had been completely innocent.
"And, actually, I just got a call from my maid saying the fever has returned, so we really should be going."
Chuck loved her even more right then.
"Yes," he put in. "We really should be going."
"Oh yes, of course," he said. "I do hope they feel better."
Both Mr. and Mrs. Bass nodded, smiled and encouraged him to say good-bye to the rest of the company, which he said he would.
"That was brilliant," Chuck murmured to her when they were halfway to the limo outside.
She smiled wide and her heart swelled.
"I know."
The limo driver opened the door for them and they slid inside. Blair slid her shoes off again, so she could relax further and leaned back in the seat. Chuck looked her over.
"That bra wasn't for support, was it?" he asked dubiously.
She laughed. "Of course not."
He smirked and shook his head.
She turned to him and planted a soft kiss on his lips.
"You're exceedingly easy to tease."
He chuckled and pulled her to him, leaning back into the eat and saying on a sigh,
"At least you follow through."
…..
A/N: I really like this. *beams* =) Softspoken to be updated next. ;)