Last time in the Secretvere: She knows! Now what?

Chapter 10

There was music on the stereo in the limo and sounds of the city at night outside.

He didn't hear any of that.

There was the rich aroma of Italian leather and the scent of a recently laundered and pressed Turnbull & Asser linen shirt.

He didn't smell that either.

Millions of people around the world came to Manhattan every year to see the sights.

His eyes were happily closed.

In Chuck Bass' world at this moment, there was only Blair Waldorf.

His soundtrack was the little sounds she made when they paused for breath. Or, was he making those too? Who could tell over the pounding of his heart? Or was that hers?

He was surrounded by the smell of her Chanel no. 5 and the faint lingering taste of champagne on her lips. Champagne and the perfect lipstick he'd created just for her.

The texture of her red satin slip moving against the coarser fabric of his suit and the feel of her silky skin beneath his fingertips were intoxicating.

Right now, with her in his arms in the back of his limo, he was higher than he had ever been.

He hadn't known a kiss could feel like this. To be honest, he'd never really given much thought to kissing. It was a step on the way to better things, a means to an end. It was a prelude, the part before the good part.

But this was different. When their lips met, time stopped…and everything else began. Even having anticipated this moment for the last few weeks, the dream was still no match for the magical reality. The sense of awe caught him by surprise. Why that should be, he didn't know.

To him, there had always been two kinds of females: women in general and Blair. Tonight, he had tasted Blair Waldorf. Of course he would never be the same again.

When their lips stilled for a moment to take a breath, he seized the moment to blaze a trail of tiny kisses across her face, to trace the shell of her ear, to caress her earlobe with his tongue.

That sound…was she…purring in his ear?

The thought that she might be was driving him crazy.

His lips descended down the silky column of her throat, the kisses increasing in length and intensity as he grew closer to that sweet spot where her neck met her shoulder. And when he did get there and let his lips settle into that delicate hollow and sample the exquisitely sensitive skin there, her purrs and sighs gave way to a little cry.

Suddenly, his lips were back on hers, exploring and delighting in tracing the contours of her lower lip with his tongue.

Her lips parted and her tongue found his.

And then they were dueling, dancing, drinking each other in.

His fingers slid over her shoulders and down her arm, taking one of the feather-light straps with it. Without thinking, he pulled her onto his lap, stroking her arm…her back…that perfectly curved bottom.

Somehow she turned in his arms and then she was straddling his lap, their bodies fitting together perfectly, their kisses never ceasing.

He could not stop his hands from continuing to explore and worship her, squeezing her thighs in praise and possession.

He'd never wanted anything or anyone more. If it had been anyone else in his arms, he would have known exactly where this was heading.

And that was precisely why he had to stop.

This wasn't just anyone; it was Blair. In the last four hours, he'd gone from losing her to…this. It was all moving so fast.

Too fast.

He thought back to his own first time, and his memories were mercifully hazy. He remembered alcohol and a driving sense of eagerness to explore what the big deal was about sex. But after it was over, he'd only felt relief and a strong desire to escape. It hadn't helped that Georgina had gone borderline psycho on him.

Then he thought of all his other many trysts, fleeting moments of pleasure that left no impression and made him as lonely as before, if not more so.

That was not what he wanted for Blair. He had no doubt that their coupling would be amazing—after all, look what a kiss was like—but what if afterwards she was scared or sorry? What if she pulled away, retreated from him? He couldn't bear the thought.

This amazing, magical thing between them would be over before it had even fully begun. There was just too much at risk. Tonight, the miracle that she knew his identity and wanted to be with him would have to be enough.

He gritted his teeth as he reluctantly pulled away.

"Chuck, what's wrong?" Her doe eyes were enormous and hazy with desire and confusion.

"I just want to take this slow. Do it right. For you." He looked deeply into her eyes, willing her to understand.

She did not understand. "But-."

He took her hands in his and squeezed them. "Blair, it's your first time. I want it to be wonderful for you."

"But no one enjoys their first time. Everyone says that," she argued.

"Well, you aren't everyone. And why shouldn't you be the exception?" He cupped her face with his hands and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

"But I thought you wanted me?" She shifted a bit in his arms and they could both feel how much he wanted her.

He exhaled a frustrated sigh and bit his bottom lip. "You know I do. I want you so much I can't even see straight. But I'm not going anywhere. Tomorrow morning, I will still be sneaking into your locker and leaving you a present, and counting down the minutes until I see you again."

She still looked doubtful. "But you're Chuck Bass. Before…."

"Shh," he placed a finger against her lips, as he slid her off his lap and onto the seat beside him. "With us there is no 'before.' And there are no longer any secrets between us. This thing…us…it's special. You know that, right?" He kissed every fingertip on her hand before taking it in his once more.

She nodded, silently squeezing his hand. She wanted so much to believe him, but she couldn't help the next words that came out of her mouth: "Are you sure?"

And he said nothing. He just kissed her reverently as the starlight streamed through the open roof of the limo.

It was the beginning of a beautiful more-than-friendship.

Blair started off the day in the best of moods. She awoke happily with a smile on her face, got ready while humming the music he had written for her and actually arrived at school slightly earlier than her usual time.

All because she couldn't wait to see him again.

Despite the false start, it had been the best night of her life. And all they had done was kiss and hold hands. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about his insistence on taking things slow. On one hand, it was old-fashioned and romantic…and she could admit to herself that maybe she was the teensiest bit nervous about going further.

On the other hand, if just kissing had felt that good….

And he was Chuck Bass. How long could he be content just holding hands with someone known as The Ice Queen? How long before he became bored and moved on? She couldn't stand to think about it.

He was the one to set the pace and he had said there was no 'before' with them.

Besides, she had a good feeling she could persuade him to change his mind.

She was still lost in her reverie when she rounded the corner and saw a male figure standing by her locker. Her heart sped up and she could not subdue the smile that suddenly appeared on her face. It would figure that now she knew his identity, she was catching her not-so-secret admirer red-handed.

Except the figure at her locker was not Chuck. The frame was too tall, the hair too light, the posture all wrong.

Her heart slowed and her face fell.

"Nate? What are you doing here?" She hoped she could keep the edge out of her voice. Once upon a time, the fact that he'd made a special effort to come see her would have thrilled her beyond reason, but now she'd rather have some time to herself to see if Chuck really had left something in her locker.

"Does a guy need a reason to come talk to a friend?" He gave her a sheepish look.

Blair sighed. Nate needed to stop trying so hard.

"And also because I wanted to see if you wanted to go to a Columbia lacrosse game with me this weekend." He seemed very proud of himself for coming up with this idea.

What on earth would make him think that?! Blair almost cringed, then remembered that a few weeks ago, in a somewhat failed attempt to prove that she was a good girlfriend and not in any way addicted to her secret admirer, Blair had gone to see Nate play…and she'd pretended to enjoy herself…apparently a little too convincingly.

A small crowd had begun to gather around the exes. Discreet texts were sent and phones chimed as Gossip Girl put out a blast about Golden Boy being back in Blair's good graces. The lady herself could guess what was going on around her and stubbornly refused to acknowledge it.

"This weekend? Oh, that's too bad," Blair did her best to sound sorry, "I already have plans. Maybe next time?" Like, you know, never, she wanted to add. She wanted to be his friend, truly, but the reality of him standing here now giving her puppy dog eyes felt strange and irritating.

There was a flurry of whispers and gasps from her court of minions. They were clearly in shock that finally Blair had Nate right where she wanted him…and she was just going to leave him there. Penelope, who would have gladly sold her soul for the same offer from Nate, was almost sick with envy and could not wipe the catty look off her face. Kati and Iz looked at each other in confusion, vainly trying to understand this brave new world they were living in. Only Hazel had the presence of mind to text another tip to Gossip Girl about this world-shattering event.

When Chuck Bass saw the blast, he was already on his way to Blair's locker. Like a villain who could not resist returning to the scene of the crime, he had to come see Blair's reaction to her first non-anonymous gift.

Oh, who was he kidding? He hadn't eaten or slept since yesterday evening and it felt like something was making odd movements in his abdomen. He was dying to see Blair again, to know that last night had been real…and stood a chance of being repeated.

He hadn't expected a crowd of agitated onlookers…or his best friend standing stymied in the hallway as Blair brushed past him to get into her locker, retrieve some items from within and then beat a hasty but cordial retreat.

She moved past Chuck as if he weren't even there, a smile on her face that did not extend to her eyes. He could smell her perfume and her fury as her heels clicked on the linoleum. She was close enough to touch, but he dare not, especially after she hissed in a tone meant only for his ears: "I hope you're happy, Bass. This is all your fault."

He wanted to grasp her arms, call her name, stop her from leaving.

The sound of her clicking heels grew fainter as she moved further away.

How had this happened? How had he gone from feeling gloriously alive, like she truly saw him, truly wanted him…to feeling even more invisible than he ever had as her secret admirer?

He had to fix this.

If he could just talk to her….

He spent the rest of his morning trying to do just that.

He had no luck finding her. She wasn't in any of her usual classes or haunts. He'd peeped in classroom windows, eavesdropped outside bathroom doors, and even gone so far as to crash a meeting of the Cotillion committee to see if she was there. Now it appeared he was expected to serve on the decorations subcommittee, an obligation he had every intention of dodging as soon as possible. Chuck Bass did not hang crepe streamers.

He had nearly decided that the search was in vain, that she was somehow no longer on campus, when inspiration struck. There was one place he had not yet checked.

The library.

Constance Billard and St. Jude's shared a library that was the envy of the other top Manhattan private schools, largely due to alumni donations and dedicated ongoing fundraising efforts by Headmistress Queller. She believed that knowledge was power and any who wandered in should be able to find what they were seeking.

But what Chuck was seeking could not be found in any book.

When he walked in, the student aides at the desk brightened immediately. They both smiled and one even waved at him. While it was unlikely that he was there to check out a book or check them out, hope sprang eternal.

He made his way through the quiet stacks, deserted now since class was in session. And just when he'd decided it was completely empty, he rounded a corner in the far reaches of the room and there she was, standing with a book open, scanning the page.

Success!

He stole up behind her, careful not to make a noise until he whispered in her ear, "Ah, here you are. I should have suspected. 'The natural desire of good men is knowledge'."

"Then what are you doing here?" she inquired dryly. Her words had bite, but he could tell by her sharp intake of breath and the rising color in her cheeks that she was not unaffected by his presence.

"Ah, that biting wit. Will I need a tetanus shot?" He was still behind her, one hand finding the hollow of her back, even through her blazer, and stroking its way up to her shoulder. "Besides, that's the natural desire of 'good' men; my natural desire is you."

His fingers were playfully winding through her curls, then lingering on the soft nape of her neck as he swept her hair aside and placed a feather-light kiss there.

And then he was lost. The scent of her hair and perfume of her skin were in his nostrils. The sound of her (almost) inaudible sigh was in his ears. The silk of her skin drew him in for yet another, deeper kiss.

It wasn't enough. He needed another hit. More kisses, each one deeper and longer than the one before, trailed down until he reached the little hollow at the base, where her neck joined her shoulder. It seemed just made for his tongue, and suddenly the urge was overwhelming.

Just

A

Taste…

It was the spark needed to ignite the blaze. The second she felt the warm velvet of his tongue touch her skin, everything changed. Suddenly, she was turning around to face him, and then they were leaning into each other…and settling against the bookcases behind them.

His arms tightened around her, as her fingers wound through the ends of his hair and pulled him even closer. Their lips gloried in each other, breathlessly exploring, until his tongue traced the contours of her mouth before parting her lips. And then her tongue was right there to meet his, to dance with it, to drink in the taste of him.

Finally, all his efforts of the morning had paid off. This was what he needed.

And then it was over.

"Chuck, you know we can't do this!" Her voice was breathy and quavering.

He knew no such thing. "Why?"

"Someone might see us!" she hissed, pausing to look around and ensure they were alone.

"It's just us here. You and me." He gestured to the empty stacks around them. "Besides, what do you care who sees? I thought we said no more secrets."

"Between us? Of course not. From Gossip Girl? Oh, most definitely. Since you sent that tip in about Nate and me possibly getting back together—and yes, I know that was you—Gossip Girl has us on some sort of CoupleWatch. It's impossible to get under her radar."

He looked sheepish for a moment. "I didn't mean for that to happen. I just thought you were taking him back and I was trying to give you a graceful exit from your secret admirer."

She snorted and rolled her eyes, but stayed in his arms anyway.

"Lucky for us then that no one saw you last night on a certain stage in a certain silky slip…," his voice was a whisper in her ear. "Though it's almost a shame, because you were amazing up there."

Color rose in her cheeks and she looked down shyly for a moment. "I should still be angry with you about that tip."

"But you're not," he pointed out. "Take pity on me, Blair. Since last night, I haven't eaten, I haven't slept…and it feels like there's something in my stomach…fluttering."

"Butterflies," she nodded solemnly.

"You-?"

She nodded again.

"All the more reason we should take advantage of this time. I've been looking for you all morning. I even went to your Cotillion decorating committee meeting—and one of your minions tried to conscript me into volunteering." He shuddered and she laughed.

"And will you?"

"The only thing I'm signing up for is kissing you again. One more kiss before we have to go back?"

Could she say no to the warmth in his eyes? The warmth of his lips?

"Just one more," she agreed before melting into his arms again.

Of course, it would only count as one kiss if he didn't stop…

They missed lunch entirely.

He was waiting on the sidewalk when the limo he'd sent for her pulled up to the curb.

He casually chatted with acquaintances as he waited patiently (or with as much patience as he could muster) for her to appear.

Sky-high stilettos came first. Then toned calves gave way to voluptuous thighs showcased by the filmy gauze of her short black skirt. He knew firsthand just how silky those shapely legs were and he had to bite back a groan.

The top of the lacy dress appeared, cut low to show off subtle cleavage and porcelain shoulders. Really, covering up that skin with those uniform blazers was a crime against humanity and young men everywhere.

His eyes traced up that swan-like neck, bared by her upswept hairstyle, and caught her sparkling gaze before landing on lips painted with her now-signature color.

My God, she was exquisite. She took his breath away. He wanted to run to her, run away with her…but wisdom prevailed. She'd given him strict instructions on how he was to behave. Unfortunately, behaving well was not typically a concept associated with Chuck Bass.

Throwing an amazing party, on the other hand, certainly was, and the club was filled to overflowing, even spilling out onto the sidewalk.

Blair pretended to be looking around as if seeing everything for the first time. "Bass," she deigned to greet him, before resuming her perusal.

"Waldorf." He sounded casual too, as he nodded her way.

Convinced they were relatively free of close scrutiny, she allowed her lips to curve up into a little smile meant only for him and then she winked at him before walking into the club with Chuck following behind. What else was a gentleman to do?

They went their separate ways once they entered the club; she to hold court over her minions, he to perform his host duties.

Because it was ostensibly an underage event, no alcoholic beverages were being (legally) served and the stage was set up as the dance floor. There would be brief performances by the burlesque dancers throughout the evening to give a taste of what the shows would be like.

The deejay kept the music pumping, and before long, Blair and her minions were out on the floor, moving to the beat. She tried not to think about being here alone with Chuck and dancing on this very stage.

And then Chuck was talking to Kati and Iz, then dancing with Kati and Iz, followed by Hazel, then onto Penelope and then he was right there in front of her. As if by magic, the lights dimmed and the music switched to a slow song. He pulled her into his arms.

She had to quell that elation that rose up when his arms encircled her waist, and the shivers that went through her when he whispered, "We meet again" against her ear. He was smelling her perfume, or maybe just the nape of her neck, and she wanted nothing more than to throw caution to the winds and pull his lips to hers.

Damn those butterflies!

She had to regain some control here. It was scary how quickly he could make her lose it. "So we do, and not by accident, I think." She raised a brow at him.

"I may have mentioned to the deejay that a slow dance would be preferable when I'm near you." He was unapologetic about it.

"Chuck, people are going to talk," she reminded him.

"Won't they talk even more if I don't dance with the prettiest girl here?" he shrugged. "I mean, I do have a reputation to live up to here."

"You mean 'down to', don't you?" she tried to sound stern, but the smile came through in her voice. Stupid butterflies.

"Don't I get any credit for being a good boy? Here I am, not holding you nearly as close as I'd like," he squeezed her waist, "and I'm right here next to the neck that is my kryptonite and I'm not brushing that lock of hair away," he teasingly blew a puff of air on said curl, "or kissing my way down to your collar bone…."

He was so close to her neck that she feared that was going to happen next and she had absolutely no control over the way her heart sped up at the thought. "Unlike this afternoon…."

Her breath hitched at the memory.

"I've never enjoyed research more," he declared.

He was so enthralled by the little sigh she gave that he totally missed the insistent tapping on his shoulder.

"Nate, you're here!" Blair was startled, but no more so than Chuck. He immediately let go of her and moved a couple steps back.

"Hey, guys, I've been looking all over for you. This is a great party, Chuck. Quite the place you've got here."

"Thank you. I-," he was cut off by one of the employees approaching him with a question. "I'm sorry, I have to go take care of this. See you around later?" He was talking to them both, but his eyes were on Blair.

Nate smiled affably while Blair frowned.

Chuck clenched his jaw. This whole "we're together now, but we can't really be together" thing was killing him…and it had only been twenty-four hours. He made a mental note to get back to her as soon as possible, consequences be damned.

Except he couldn't really get back to her, because for the rest of the night there was always some guy by her side. She danced with Nate first, then a slew of other guys, including ones from other area schools.

She danced.

She laughed.

She flirted.

At one point she even tossed her hair.

On the rare occasions that their eyes met, she deliberately looked away from him.

And then he lost his temper.

From her special performance on this very stage the night before, to their magical ride home in the limo, to their literary rendezvous in the stacks this afternoon—it was all perfect. But now because of some stupid Gossip Girl blasts, she was ignoring him.

Well, two could play at that game.

He moved through the crowd, sizing up the pool of partygoers and looking for the just the right prey….

Found it! Twin redheads from Chapin were definitely giving him the eye. They were scantily clad and looked very…friendly. Just what he needed. He stopped to chat, and before long, he was sitting in a corner with Eva on one side and Ava on the other, competing for his attention.

This was more like it.

Let's see how Blair was liking this. When his fingers slid over to give Ava's knee a squeeze, he looked right at Blair across the dance floor.

Blair knew perfectly well what was going on and had already decided he'd get no reaction from her.

It worked in theory…

Until that knee squeeze.

How dare he?!

She saw green, then red. Before she knew what she was doing, she had disengaged from the lacrosse player who was telling a long and boring story about…oh, who cared, she hadn't even been listening…and was halfway across the room.

She grabbed Chuck's free hand and pulled him to his feet. "There's a problem you need to take care of." Chuck shrugged and gave a little wave to the twins as she dragged him off to the coat room in the lobby.

Once there, she pulled him in and closed the door behind them, shoving him into a rack of woolen coats that would hide their presence and conceal any noise. And then she kissed him, just the way she'd wanted to ever since they left the library that afternoon.

Finally, they came up for air and he could get in a word. "Hey."

He shouldn't sound that good, shouldn't look that good. He was a complete Basstard and she had every intention of telling him so. "Hi," came her breathy reply instead.

He placed a light kiss on her lips. "Is this the problem you were referring to?"

"Stop smiling! Why are you smiling?" she demanded.

"Because I think someone is jealous," he taunted.

"Don't be ridiculous! I was just rescuing you from Skank One and Skank Two. They're heinous and so are you. Twins, Chuck? Twins?!"

He grinned. "Do you really think that even twins are any match for you? I was just passing the time waiting for you."

"Passing the time, is it? I can think of better ways," she whispered, slightly mollified.

"Show me."

And she kissed him again. As far as Chuck was concerned, the evening had definitely taken a turn for the better, when a bartender stuck his head in the door.

"Chuck, your father is here looking for you."

Blair immediately stepped aside and followed Chuck out into the lobby.

"There you are, Charles. I was just checking in to see how things were going." Actually, Bart had hoped his presence would serve as a warning if his son was indeed serving alcohol or the party was getting out of hand. So far, the festivities seemed to be at a legal and acceptable level.

And then he saw it. Traces of red lipstick on his son's face. His son was wearing lipstick? He frowned.

Chuck seemed floored to see his father there, so Blair emerged from the shadows. "Mr. Bass, it's so lovely of you to come support Chuck at his first party here at the club. Everyone is having a wonderful time. It was a brilliant idea for Chuck to host a night just for people our age, but then I'm sure he gets his flair for business from you." Blair accompanied her shameless flattery with a seemingly sincere smile.

Bart Bass was not one for flattery, sincere or otherwise, but then he saw it.

The same red lipstick on her lips.

And he smiled right back. This was even better than he could've dreamed. The Waldorfs were an old money connection he would dearly love to make. It had seemed more likely that honor would go to the Archibalds…but that lipstick told him the tide might be turning. He suddenly felt quite proud of his son.

Chuck seemed to find his voice then and briefed his father on various permits that had been approved and that the opening date would proceed as scheduled.

"Good, good." Bart was pleased, but couldn't stop himself from adding, "Just be sure you stay current with your school assignments."

"I'm sure he will," Blair piped up. "Just this afternoon, we were working on a research project in the library."

It was rather amusing to see Miss Waldorf acting as his son's self-appointed champion, but he rather suspected their visit to the library had more to do with her lipstick than a quest for literature. Bart decided to say nothing more. He shook his son's hand and nodded to Blair before taking his leave.

Watching Bart's departing form, Blair slid closer to Chuck, surreptitiously entwining their fingers. "He should travel with a mini-orchestra that plays Darth Vader's Imperial March whenever he arrives somewhere."

"That would certainly be truth in advertising," Chuck agreed.

They smiled at each other conspiratorially. They might only be together in secret right now, but they were together.

They were Chuck and Blair, Blair and Chuck.

And nothing-not the risk of rumor, not even Big Bad Bart-could change that.

To Be Continued in Chapter 11

Author's Note: Now they're together, albeit in secret. What was Chuck's first non-anonymous gift to Blair? What will their therapists say about these developments? What's next for our favorite couple? These and other questions will be answered soon.

A special "thank you" to the lovely narsuess, who's responsible for the lines about Chuck dividing females into two categories and how he would never be the same after kissing Blair. She wrote them in a review and they were so perfect I just had to include them in the story. I thank her for her generosity in letting me do so and also for her loyal support.

Many thanks to all my wonderful readers and reviewers. Summer is a busy time and that you take the time to share your feelings about my story means a great deal to me.

Much love and gratitude to my beta team: Chrys1130, chairship (check out her Best Kiss story for a wonderful take on Chuck's first time), rayj829 (who's writing the compelling New Beginnings) and Shrk22 (who never fails to make me smile).

Until next time!

Xoxo