A/N I am so sorry this took so freaking long guys!!! :( I feel bad, and to make it up to you, I made it extra long! ;)

Thanks for the feedback on the last chapter, you have me squealing and blushing like a crazy person! And thanks to those of you who has put this story on alert/favourite-ed! :)

Uhm...there's not really that much clothes to play guess-the-epi with in this chapter...haha. I guess one of those; 'parts of this chapter is rated M, consider yourself warned!' are in order ;)


For the second time in two days, Blair woke up only to find herself almost on top of Chuck, wrapped around him like vines to a brick wall. And just like the day before she nuzzled closer and reveled in the warmth his proximity provided. Also in a similar matter, it took approximately ten seconds before she realized what she was doing, and what position she was in. This time around however, the realization didn't cause her to jump and cry out a nearly incoherent sequence of questions. Instead she immediately froze in a panicked attempt not to wake him up.

Images of the night before came rushing back. The more vivid memories brought a slight flush to her cheeks, like how she had more or less jumped Chuck in the limo, rubbing against him like a cat in heat. That, and memories of urgent kisses, roaming hands and him. He had been surprisingly…sweet? Selfless? Underneath that cocky charm that got her blood boiling. You're paying him to do that, whispered the self-critical voice at the back of her head, that's his job. Then something else crossed her mind that sent a strange rush of adrenaline through her system. She hadn't paid him. Why hadn't he said something? Was he going to this morning? Could it be that he had actually looked at it as less of a business deal, and more like…something else? No, she was quick to tell herself, get over yourself Blair. He doesn't care, he was doing his job. But pulling her close to his chest once they had made it into her bed and putting his arm around her wasn't necessarily part of his job description, was it?

Her mind was racing, and the jumble of thoughts was too much to handle with her eyes closed. Almost as if the questions and thoughts were too many and too blurry to fit inside her head. But as Blair opened her eyes she immediately realized her mistake. Her very huge and incredibly stupid mistake. Because opening your eyes when you're close to lying on top of someone isn't exactly the key ingredient when it comes to not seeing that person first thing.

Chuck was still asleep and not looking her way (thank you, deities of the world. Or is it Mr. God? In that case; Tequila? Champagne?), laying flat on his back with one arm over his head. He looked just as great as ever with sleep relaxing his features, but Blair wouldn't go as far as to say he looked innocent. There was nothing innocent or very angelic about the sharp angles of his face or the curve of his lip, and she could only guess that that must be what a devil tamed looked like. Her gaze trailed over his features, and her fingers twitched with the urge to reach out and touch him. So with her eyes fastened on his face and almost holding her own breath just to be able to tell in case his quickened, she allowed her hand to reach out and carefully brush a strand of dark hair off his forehead. When Chuck reacted to her light touch with a slight furrow of his brow, her heart nearly stopped in her chest. He didn't wake up however, and her fingers kept moving on their own will, trailing down his nose and over his Cupid's bow. When she realized what she was doing, Blair frowned and quickly pulled her hand away. What the hell was she doing? Molesting the man in his sleep? When Chuck stirred and rolled over to his side with a deep sigh, she quickly got out of the bed in one not too subtle move, and took shelter inside the bathroom.

The scent of cherry and vanilla invaded his dreams and woke Chuck up. He could vaguely register the light brush of fingers against his skin, his body practically smiling in delight and moving instinctively toward the touch. Only when the mattress jiggled did he wake up completely and realize where he was. Opening his eyes he caught a quick glimpse of Blair in her champagne colored slip, disappearing out of sight inside the bathroom. The next thing he noticed was the uneasy, restless feeling creeping under his skin. Like there was a tiny but powerful maelstrom trapped inside his gut, wrecking havoc on his insides. Frowning he tried to rationalize the feeling, but found that he couldn't. He hadn't even been drunk last night. Buzzed perhaps, but not drunk. Last night when they… The memories of their, whatever, in the limo momentarily erased the frown on his forehead. He'd believed from the first time they'd touched that she was a sex kitten in the making and man, had he been right. Chuck had definitely slept with his fair share of women (he'd kind of lost count at sixteen), both 'professionally' and in his spare time, but last night had been something else. And for the first time in a (fucking) long time, he hadn't been 'working'.

The last thought had the frown returning full force. He should have talked to her, explained...whatever it was that he had been thinking. But fuck, he had barely been able to breathe with her lips on his, on his skin, let alone speak in coherent sentences. He should have acted professional. Yeah, that's what he should have explained, that he hadn't been 'working' (Shit, she's even managed to turn his thoughts into a rambling mess)

Groaning in confusion Chuck rubbed his face with his hand, finished just as Blair walked back into the room. He apparently startled her, because she jumped a little as they made eye contact and instinctively crossed her arms over her chest.

"You're awake." The flutter in the pit of her stomach was instant and the sensation hit her like a punch in the face. Oh, crap. She recognized that feeling. (Really, Mr. God? They'd been getting on so well) Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she stared at him in awkward silence until she had recovered enough to get moving. "I'll get us some coffee." She managed to choke out, and practically ran out the room.

Chuck stared after her retreating form. There it was again, that uneasy feeling in his gut. Had he not believed it before, he was now wholly convinced he wasn't a beer man, scotch never came with that weird feeling beer apparently did. Stupid, plebeian excuse of a beverage. He threw back the covers and got out of bed. It was only moments later that Blair returned, holding two giant mugs of steaming coffee. "Here," she said, and handed him one of the two.

"Thanks." Chuck took the mug she offered and had a sip (maybe coffee would do the trick?) "About last-"

"I need a shower." Blair interjected, eager for him not to say anything that could burst her bubble of ignorant bliss, and for the second time that morning skipped inside the bathroom without looking back. She just wanted a few more minutes of pretending this thing between them, whatever it was, was something real. And Chuck talking about prices and fees would definitely burst that bubble like a safety pin to a balloon.

Chuck let out a frustrated breath as she disappeared out of sight, but at the same time felt oddly relieved. He hadn't exactly planned longer than to 'about last night', and was in all honesty happy she'd interrupted him. What had he really thought would come from a conversation like that one? Or rather, why did he feel compelled to have it in the first place? Damn it, that woman was playing with his mind. That enticing, sexy-as-hell woman… Lost in a particularly vivid memory of Blair purring in his ear, her fingernails scratching down his shoulders, he put the coffee mug down on her vanity without looking. The thud that echoed in the room when her clutch hit the floor brought him out of his trip down Memory Lane, and he bent down to pick it up. It was heavy, so crammed with stuff that it would barely close and the discovery made him grin. Chuck believed that he understood women, he really did. They liked to pretend that they were difficult but they were really not. But the one thing he would never understand was their relationship to their purse. They behaved as if their bag was their ultimate source of power. The image of Blair dressed like Wonder Woman crossed his mind, but was quickly interrupted when he spotted the stack of crisp dollar bills inside her clutch.

Money, and lots of it too. Money that had most likely been meant for him. The maelstrom picked up pace, and it felt almost as if someone had poured a bucket full of nails into its swirling depts. The sharp pins pricking and poking at his insides.

Blair let the water cascade down her back, and did her best not to dwell on the discussion that was to come, that Chuck had already begun before her hasty exit. When the shower curtain was yanked away forcefully, she gasped in surprise and covered herself with her hands in a vain attempt to keep him from seeing what he had already seen, touched...licked, last night . Chuck stood there, still only in his pajama pants, and looked her with a grim expression on his face. "What's this?" He growled, and that's when she noticed the clutch in his hand, fifteen hundred dollars worth of crisp dollar bills clearly visible. Her stomach dropped.

"Nothing." She replied, a slight, defiant raise of her chin even though she most likely resembled a drenched cat where she stood. Chuck scoffed at her unconvincing reply. There was a tension in his shoulder that she hadn't seen before, and his jaw was set in a firm line that only increased the angles in his features. Had he been someone else, she might have said that he looked a little offended, hurt.

"I told you," Chuck continued, his voice a low, angry snarl. "If I was going to charge you, we would have settled that beforehand." Fuck, she looked amazing even now. Her hair slicked back from her face and hanging over her shoulders like molten chocolate and the rest of her all…wet. Before this day, he had never once felt the need to sleep with the same woman twice, no matter how alluring she might have been. Once he slept with someone she was forever out of his system and sent on her way. Until now, apparently.

"I…-" Blair trailed off, unsure of what to say. He did look hurt, she realized, and for some reason the notion made her feel bad. Why on earth would he be upset that she had intended on paying him? The questions from earlier began dancing around inside her head once again, and she could feel a headache begin to throb, one of her hands coming up to rub the bridge of her nose. She refused to feel guilty, and an acid reply was burning on the tip of her tongue, but before she could voice her displeasure he beat her to it.

"And by the way, movie star -" There was still that slight ting of venom to his voice that made her cringe inwardly, and the nickname didn't sound like a term of endearment at all, more like a curse. "You're three hundred short."

"What?" Blair screeched, and momentarily forgot all about headaches and feeling guilty. "There's fifteen hundred dollars in there!" Chuck only reply was the same angry stare. "That's almost half a Birkin bag!"

"But a fucking bag wouldn't have you moaning and -" Chuck began tauntingly in a way she had never before heard him speak and that sent chills down her spine. But ignoring the sudden thickness in her throat, Blair cut him off with a glare before he could finish. They both stood there, glowering at each other whilst the water continued to splash violently against the floor of the bathtub. When Blair shivered a little, cold from her not-so-very-dressed state, Chuck diverted his gaze and turned to leave.

What happened next, Blair would never be able to explain away. She reached out and grabbed a hold of his wrist. Chuck stopped in his steps, and turned to look at her with a slight rise of his brow. The annoyance still etched on his face now joined by confusion. Blair didn't say anything; there were no words for what she wanted. She only tugged at his wrist again, with more force this time. Seconds passed, and Blair found herself holding her breath as her heart thumped like beating was going out of style inside her chest. The third time she pulled at his wrist (third time's the charm, or the final nail in the coffin of her pride), Chuck complied and moved toward her. As he reached the edge of the bathtub, he paused for a second, seemingly searching her eyes for something. Then he stepped over the edge, and joined her. The navy silk of his pajama pants was immediately drenched when the spray of water hit him, and clung to his legs like a second skin.

There it was again, Chuck thought as he stepped closer to her naked, dripping form, that out-of-this-world, all-consuming tension simmering between the two of them. He recognized the silent apology in her actions as well as the obvious invitation, and the nails seemed to be washed out of the maelstrom in his gut, replaced by joyous swirls and waves. He already ached for her, and guessed that the want in her eyes was mirrored in his own. She kept her grip around his wrist, so he used his other hand to reach out and cup her chin. Her lips were slightly parted, and he smirked as he traced the plump bottom lip with his thumb, watching her eyes flutter close in response.

Blair's heart still beat furiously in her chest. The sound of its wild thumping pounding in her ears so loudly she could barely focus on anything else. Then her brain came close to shutting down as his thumb brushed against her lip. The immediate response from her body should probably leave her appalled, but she found that it didn't. Instead she welcomed the instantaneous, hungry response to his touch and ached to reach out and touch him, taste him. But she refused to be the initiator this time (more than she already was at least) She needed him to make the first move because she was still far from rid of the voice at the back of her head that kept telling her he was doing his job. She needed proof it wasn't about business. That it was real. If not, if he didn't want her, then she would live to see another day without the thrill of his hands on her skin. Because there was a limit to how low she was willing to stoop, and throwing herself after a man who didn't really want her was definitely on the wrong side of that line.

When Chuck finally moved, throwing all doubts and second thoughts aside, the first touch of skin against skin was all the invitation she needed. His arms came around her back and pulled her flush against him as their lips crashed together. His erection pressed against her stomach, and Blair sighed in response to the need flooding her system, her hands fisting in his wet hair. Too busy with devouring his mouth to realize how he seemed to really, really want her too. The taste of him, and the sensation of his tongue invading her mouth, was intoxicating.

Sure that she wouldn't step away from him if he loosened his grip, Chuck let his hands wander over her slick, wet skin. One hand sliding over her back, and the other travelling lower to skim over her sex before settling at her waist. The sound escaping her lips went straight to his ego, and he wanted more. Her lips left his in favor for his collarbone; sharp nips quickly soothed by soothing licks. Her mouth soon continued its exploration of his skin, travelling up along the column of his throat and brushing against his jaw line. She bit down on his earlobe, and he barely caught her pleased laugh as he groaned at the sensation, the fiery tingles spreading like wildfire down to his crotch. She reached down to rid him of his drenched pants, and Chuck shuddered as she wrapped her small hand around him, and quickly reached out to steady himself against the wall with one hand. With the strength of a champion, Chuck ground his teeth and somehow pulled himself together before it all came to a too early ending. Interrupting her ministrations by stepping closer and pushing her up against the wall. Blair whimpered as her back hit the cold wall, but let out a throaty laugh as Chuck slipped a little and nearly lost his grip of her. He quickly steadied himself, his eyes finding hers to make sure she was okay, and was met by glassy eyes and kiss swollen lips.

Still laughing, Blair leaned in to kiss him. He responded hungrily and her breath hitched in her throat as his hands found their way to her breasts and thumbs flicked over hardened nipples. His fingertips were like fire and ice all at the same time. Burning their way over her skin - setting her aflame - and sending chills down her spine that left goose bumps in their wake. Blair moaned into his mouth as his skillful fingers found her core and pushed inside of her. Then she lost contact with the world outside their bubble, became deaf and blind to everything but the maddeningly slow pace his fingers set, pumping in and out of her. When his thumb found her most sensitive spot, it was all it took for her world to erupt in blinding heat, and she came with his name a ragged cry from her lips. Stars were dancing around behind her closed eyelids, and Blair couldn't speak, couldn't think. Could do nothing but feel. When his hand left her center, the whimper of protest that escaped her lips shocked her even in her disoriented state. Still eager not to lose contact with his skin, and not able to get too close to him, Blair lifted her leg up and wrapped it around his waist. They both groaned at the sensation her movement created, and his forehead came down to rest on in the crock of her neck.

He was forgetting something, that much he knew, and tried his best to muster enough brain capacity to remember what it was. As she writhed against him, he nearly lost control but then remembered. "Wait," he choked out, his fingers digging into her hips to still her movement. Blair barely registered what he was saying, acting purely on carnal instinct, her lips brushing against his temple and her hips grinding against him. "Condom." He managed to choke out, his voice a hoarse almost unrecognizable whisper against her heated skin.

The word pierced through the clouds in her mind like a flower through the asphalt, allowing her to think straight, but her body still moved on its own accord. "Where?" she breathed, her hips still grinding against him, and the last part of her question disappeared in a moan.

"Wallet." Chuck panted, trying to keep some distance between them. Then, with superhuman willpower, he managed to pull away from her and get out of the bathtub. When he returned with prize in hand he found her in the exact same position as when he left seconds earlier. Her chest heaving and eyes glazed over with undiluted lust. He covered himself and then stepped into her waiting arms, his mouth finding hers instantaneously. Blair's legs locked around him as he hoisted her up and positioned himself at her entrance. He could feel the heat exuding from her center. "Look at me," he demanded, ignoring her writhing protests against the delay until she complied. Their eyes met, brown locking with brown, and then he slowly lowered her down.

Chuck's eyes rolled back in his head at the sensation of her slick heat surrounding him, and he had to pause to catch his breath and regain control of his senses (since when did he, Chuck Bass, need a breather?) When he looked up again he found that she was still looking at him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "So fucking beautiful," he growled and finally began moving, reveling in her sounds of pleasure and the way her hips swayed to meet him, thrust by thrust. What began in a slow, patient pace was soon exchanged into something else, favoring the need for more, closer, not enough. When he came, when the whirlpool finally engulfed him, his cry was swallowed in a bruising kiss. Chuck vaguely registered something inside of him click and shift into place, and for one second he knew with aching clarity that something had changed, never to be the same again.

They stumbled out of the shower later on, haphazardly toweled each other dry and left the towels in a heap on the floor before fall back into the still untidy bed. Chuck immediately pulled Blair to his chest, his arm thrown over her form and holding her close, and within seconds they both drifted off to sleep.

XOXO

Chuck woke up and, as immediate as subconsciously, wrapped his arms tighter around Blair still lying right next to him. With a yawn he moved over to his side to look at her. She was awake. The fluttering in his gut was instant and only amplified when she offered him a smile.

"Hi." Blair whispered, mesmerized by the look in his eyes. She was unstoppably and uncharacteristically falling for him, there was no denying it now. When the annoying tangle of questions and doubts began to swirl around her head like autumn leaves in the wind, she resolutely shoved them inside the box at the back of her mind labeled 'don't even go there'. This was not the time to dwell on the unavoidable, tragic ending of the story about the princess who rented a prince for the weekend. "You hungry?"

"Don't tell me I'm wearing you out?" Chuck smirked, his fingers dancing down her upper arm. He chuckled against the top of her head when she swatted his arm indignantly.

"That was something extra though," Blair agreed moments later, but immediately regretted her words when she spotted the smug look on his face

"I have the scars on my back to prove it." Chuck drawled, his fingers now drawing lazy circles on her lower back underneath the covers. "And yes."

"Huh?" Blair blinked up at him, met by an unmistakable touch of mirth in his eyes. Had she asked him something? It was getting more and more difficult to focus when his hand travelled lower with each circle he traced on her skin.

"Hungry." Chuck murmured, leaning down to capture her lips with his. They kissed, softly and unhurriedly . Both halfway to forgetting all about their hunger in favor for a different kind of appetite, when Blair's stomach rumbled. She pulled back, embarrassed, but Chuck only grinned. "Come on, movie star, I can't have you passing out on me due to malnutrition."

"Oh, I almost forgot." Blair frowned. "Today is Dorota's day off."

"I think we'll manage." Chuck grinned, and got out of bed.

They didn't bother much with their appearances, Blair wrapped her robe around her and Chuck opted for a pair of slacks and a shirt, his pajama pants still in a soaked heap on the floor of the bathtub. Before they left her room, Blair hesitated, evaluating the possible consequences of venturing downstairs without being properly dressed or with her hair in damp and un-styled. Then she remembered that her mother was most likely away getting her hair and nails done before the wedding that afternoon, and followed Chuck downstairs.

Once in the kitchen Chuck walked right up to the huge, stainless steel refrigerator to explore its content. Blair could only watch in fascinated silence as he began taking out all kind of ingredients on the kitchen counter, and raised an eyebrow questioningly at him as he turned around - finished with his raid of the fridge. "What?"

"You actually cook?" Blair smirked, and laughed at the indignant look on his face at her incredulous tone.

"You're saying that you don't?" Chuck drawled, searching through the cupboards. Satisfied only when he came across a loaf of bread.

"That's what the Dorota's of the world are for." Blair replied, leaning against the counter and watching him with a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I make killer Bellini's though." She added, while Chuck began spreading butter on the bread, humming a tune she recognized well.

"I guess that makes you in charge of the drinks." He told her, and grinned at her appalled expression. He felt oddly…elated, and she was so damn cute whenever she got worked up about something.

"It's not even noon yet!" Blair objected. But as Chuck's only response was a nod of his head in direction of the clock on the wall, she was forced to surrender. As a matter of fact it was five minutes to twelve; they had been...occupied for longer than she thought. "Fine," she huffed, but then added with a flick of her hair. "Get ready for the Bellini of your life."

XOXO

"This," Blair sighed in gastronomic bliss, nodding toward the half eaten grilled cheese in her hand, "is the best sandwich, ever."

She was seated on top of the counter top, legs dangling off the edge, with Chuck standing beside her. Pleased with her approval, Chuck took another sip of his Bellini. "What can I say," he mused, watching the way her tongue came out to lick some crumbs off her lip, and feeling the muscles in his stomach tightening in response. "I'm a man of many talents."

Blair laughed out loud at that, a little tipsy from the second 'one-minute-past-noon-still-counts-Bellini' she had had. She downed the last bite of her sandwich with a sip of her drink, and then stretched lazily. Content and at ease. Then she caught on to the dark glint in his eyes.

"Still hungry?" She winked, leaning back to rest her weight on one hand, watching him closely as her robe fell off her shoulder and revealed a naked shoulder. Shivering in anticipation from the way he looked at her. Feeling more wanted than she ever had with anyone. Chuck set his glass aside, not breaking eye contact, and she could feel his breath fanning her neck.

"Is the kitchen open?" He husked, his hand sliding up her leg from her knee to the inside of her thigh. Her legs spread on their own accord, and Chuck moved so that he was standing between them.

"Maybe," Blair smiled and sat up straight. "If the price is right."

He chuckled at that, and then they were kissing again. He took his time, coaxing her mouth open with his tongue, surprised at how satisfied he felt just from kissing her. He would be perfectly fine could he just get to kiss her like this forever.

It could have been minutes, hours, even days. They had both lost all track of time, too occupied with the feel of lips against lips, when the door to the kitchen swung open. Blair pulled back in haste, wiping her mouth and silently cursing her own stupidity. If her mother found them like this... Luckily for her, it wasn't her mother standing in the doorway, but Cyrus. The older man only chuckled merrily at their public display. "Never mind me" He winked, and walked over to the fridge. Blair felt a blush spread across her cheeks and carefully slid off the counter top.

"Maybe we should start getting ready?" Chuck murmured in her ear, placing an unexpectedly tender kiss on her cheek before walking out the room. Blair busied herself with their empty glasses, carrying them over to the sink for Dorota to wash, all the while feeling Cyrus' eyes on her. When she turned to leave the room, eager to get out of there and be embarrassed by her own, Cyrus interrupted her with a hand on her arm.

"I can only speak for myself," Cyrus began, looking up at her with a smile playing on his lips, "But I think he has some true potential, that one." With that said, and a final pat of her arm, Cyrus went back to making his coffee and Blair walked out the room. She could do nothing but agree with her stepfather. Chuck definitely had some potential.

XOXO


Thanks for reading!

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I would love to hear from you 'new' readers too! ;)

Camilla