A/N: The very ending of this chapter is largely inspired by The Spanish Love Deception.

Please note that the rating on this story has increased to M.

Chapter 8

I gritted my teeth together as Georgina plopped her pasty ass on the blanket right beside Chuck and me. He clenched his jaw, and I could see the pulse in his neck jump at her proximity.

"You don't mind if I join you, do you? Thanks." She didn't wait for our approval before reclining back on one arm and turning her attention to Chuck. She lowered her eyelids in what I could only imagine was meant to convey flirtation and said, "Didn't expect to see you again so soon, Chuck."

"Unfortunate coincidence certainly," he mumbled irritably, stiffening behind me. I'm not sure why, but I suddenly felt uncomfortable between his legs and desperately wanted to put some distance between us.

"Oh, don't be like that," she cooed. "If I recall correctly, there was a time in the not-so-distant past that you couldn't get enough of me."

"Don't flatter yourself," he sneered back, placing a protective hand against my leg. "You were merely convenient."

"Right," She snorted out an obnoxious laugh, making it clear that his insults did little to wound her over-inflated ego. "So convenient that you sought me out in Australia just two weeks ago." She quirked an eyebrow in my direction, and I subconsciously drew my fists into tight balls as tension coursed through my body. "Were things so dry at home that you needed me to scratch your itch from across the ocean?"

I could feel Chuck draw a deep breath from behind me, trying to maintain his composure lest either one of us cause a scene. "My needs had nothing to do with the nature of that visit and you know that," he growled. "And you've reached a new low to bring that up…here, now." Confusion and discomfort must've been evident through my body language because Chuck tucked my hand in his larger one, soothing his thumb over my trembling knuckles.

"Mm," she narrowed her eyes at me, her tone dripping with condescension. "I'm just saying maybe I would've been less amenable had I realized who was waiting at home. I can only imagine what it takes to thaw the ice between her legs. If memory serves, you don't really have the patience for foreplay."

Chuck opened his mouth to speak, and I knew that he wasn't going to be able to keep his cool much longer. I racked my brain for a witty comeback, something to knock Georgina down a peg or two, but without understanding the full context of their conversation I came up empty. Anger surged through every ounce of my body, and I was desperate to get away from Chuck. The insinuations that Georgina made were completely unacceptable given that two weeks ago we were already committed to our masquerade as fake lovers.

"Oh, Georgina, you made it" Serena's voice was clipped, and she must've been able to read the panic on my face. She was rarely observant, but somehow she was oddly attuned to my distress. She offered me the out I needed, and I took it without a second thought.

"If you'll excuse me," I offered an acidic smile to Georgina. "I have more pressing plans this evening than catching up with you."

I kissed Serena on the cheek, effectively ignoring both Chuck and Georgina and marched back toward the villa. I was ready to pack all of Chuck's belongings and send him back to New York. Good riddance, Basshole.

To think, fifteen minutes ago I was swooning over the feel of his hands on my skin, desperately imploring him to kiss me. I practically melted under his touch and, for some outrageous reason, thought that I could fall for him. Something had to be wrong with me. Chuck Bass? Chuck Bass had my stomach swarming with butterflies and my eyelashes batting with obvious flirtation.

As much as I abhorred Georgina, her sudden appearance gave me a very important reality check: I hated Chuck more than I've ever hated anyone or anything. He's an arrogant, self-serving prick, who most definitely has some hidden ulterior motives for me being here with me. After that little show, perhaps he's only here to ensure my utter mortification. Perhaps he'd known Georgina would be here. Maybe he orchestrated the entire thing to humiliate me to an irrevocable degree.

Slamming the heavy door behind me, I stomped into the suite with new resolve. I wouldn't let him make a mockery of me. I'd create a story – one where I triumph without necessitating their sympathy. I could handle him looking like an ass, but I couldn't take anyone's pity.

I found my way into the bathroom and immediately started tossing his toiletries into the trash can with more force than necessary. I heard a glass shatter inside the metal container, but I didn't bother trying to discern which expensive bottle I broke. Hopefully it was his cologne that smelled far too heavenly for someone so evil.

"What are you doing, Blair?" His raspy drawl came from behind me. I turned around, flames dancing in my eyes, and I hurled the first item I grabbed in his direction. The hair oil hit the wall and thudded to the ground with a loud bang. His eye fell to the bottle rolling around on the floor before shooting back to me from beneath furrowed brows. "What the hell?"

"You are a disgusting pig!" I screeched, tossing more of his personal items into the trash receptacle.

"We established that a long time ago, Blair," he narrowed his eyes, snatching the container away from me before I could do more damage. "But what crime specifically warrants the destruction of expensive hair products?"

"You had sex with Georgina!"

"I've had sex with a lot of people," he smiled sardonically.

With a scowl etched onto my face, I pushed my way to the closet and started throwing shoes at him, feeling the slightest vindication when one hit him directly in the groin causing him to grimace in pain. "It's bad enough that you had sex with her when you were supposed to be dating me, but the fact that it was Georgina Sparks?! Have you no standards? No sense of propriety? No self-respect? The next thing you'll tell me is that you've also slept with Jenny Humphrey!" His eyes danced with amusement, one brow raised in my direction, a clear confirmation of my worst nightmare come true. I huffed out all of the hot air gathering in my lungs, seething with so much rage that I could feel molten lava rushing through my body. "Oh my God," I rasped. "We're done. This is done."

I lifted a Louboutin with an extra pointy heel, preparing to launch it in his direction, but his hands gripped my wrists tightly, forcing me to drop the shoe to the floor. I struggled against his hold, desperately trying to wrench my hands free of his grasp. Instead of releasing me, he tightened his hold and pushed me to the back of the closet until my back landed flush against the interior wall. He raised our joined hands above my head, keeping them pinned against the wall. My chest heaved furiously, and I wanted nothing more than to slap the smug look from his face. I tried to kick him, anything to wrangle myself free, but he pressed into me, angling his knee between my legs to hold me in place. "Are you sure that's what all this is about, Blair?" I could feel his breath against my neck. "I don't think you're really upset about someone finding out about Georgina and me. You know that she'd rather torment you silently. She'll find joy in making you squirm." I bucked against him in another vain attempt to escape. "Yes, much like that," he whispered.

"I hate you," I spat.

"Sure, but that's not the only thing you're feeling, is it?" He dropped my hands to my side, pressing his mouth directly over my ear. "Are you jealous, Blair? Wondering what exactly Georgina, Isabel, and Jenny got to experience that you haven't? Are you wondering if your imagination is as good as the real thing?"

I was all of the sudden far too aware of his body, and, even worse, his body's reaction to our proximity. It was then that I realized that he'd dropped my arms, and I had free range of motion. I reared back and slapped him across the cheek with as much force as I could muster. "I couldn't imagine a more disgusting scenario than the one you just described," I sneered, tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

"Sure," he scoffed, rubbing the red welt coloring his jaw. "Because this is all fake, right, Waldorf? You weren't welcoming or encouraging my touch an hour ago, were you?"

"It was all part of the show, Chuck," I narrowed my eyes, pushing past him back into the bedroom. "Don't get it confused."

"If that's the case, are you truly done? Are you planning to send me packing?" He followed me, leaning back against the wall. I could see tension outlining his clenched jaw, and I was more confused than ever about what we were actually arguing over. "If you want me out, tell me now, but don't feed me that bullshit about Georgina being the reason."

"What are you talking about?" I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes, ready for this whole asinine conversation to be over.

"You're smart enough to figure it out. I don't have to spell it out for you."

I exhaled slowly, suddenly exhausted. "I'm going to bed, Chuck. You can take the floor tonight."

With that, I slammed the door to the bathroom before he could respond and took out my frustrations on my tired body, punishing my sensitive skin with abrasive strokes from my loofah. Once I was sufficiently clean and painfully raw from over-scrubbing, I applied moisturizer and dressed in my pajamas. It was a shame that this lingerie set wasn't being used for seduction purposes because it was wholly more alluring than the ones I'd donned the night before. Chuck had acted as though he was some great prize that I'd missed out on, but tonight he'd see exactly what it was that he'd never have the privilege of experiencing.

I exited the bathroom, expecting to find Chuck taking up half the bed in defiance; instead, he was camped out on the floor, surrounded by the extra pillows and blankets from the closet. His lips were slightly parted, humming out soft snores that seemed to mock me somehow despite doing exactly what I had asked of him.

Asshole.

XOXO

The bed felt cold when I woke up after a restless night's sleep. I looked to the ground where Chuck had slept, but he'd arranged all of his makeshift bedding into a neat pile in the corner. I glanced toward the open door of the bathroom. I was alone. Had he actually left? Was my threat the night before strong enough to scare him away without a word? An unfamiliar pang crept its way into my stomach at the thought.

I pushed the unwelcome guilt from my mind and plucked my phone from the charger. A text alerted me to its existence across the notification bar, and I opened it to find a message from Chuck: Nate showed up at our door at 7 this morning asking if I wanted to join him for a jog. My immediate response was no, but I figured you could use some time to yourself to decide if you want me to leave.

I dressed quickly and trekked across the resort to the bridal quarters. Serena and Nate were spending the week in separate rooms until the wedding, after which they would spend the night in the isolated honeymoon suite before flying out the next morning.

I banged on the door impatiently. On my sixth knock, the door flew open and a half-dressed, drowsy-eyed Serena stood in front of me with last night's make-up still caked on her normally rosy cheeks. "Blair?" She stifled a yawn behind her hand. "What are you doing here this early?"

"It's after 8, Serena," I rolled my eyes. "What are our plans for today anyway?"

"We've rented a yacht for the day for the whole bridal party," she held the door open, gesturing inside. "Come on. You can talk while I get dressed."

I plopped myself down on the couch, scowling at the fact that she had the room with the sofa bed that I was originally supposed to have. "Why is Georgina here?" I demanded as Serena washed foundation from her face.

"Oh, I forgot that you don't like her," she responded dismissively. "She and I reunited a while back at Brown."

I scrunched my nose disapprovingly. "You couldn't just send her a postcard from your honeymoon?"

"She's a bitch, but she's harmless." She ran her comb through her wild mane, and I wondered how she could look so effortless with so little effort.

"She's awful," I pouted. "And I don't know if I can manage to stay civil for the rest of the week."

"What's this about, Blair? We aren't in high school anymore, so -" She turned to face me, her voice trailing off as she saw something in my expression. "This has to do with Chuck. I had no idea if the rumors were true, and when you told me you were bringing a guy named 'Chuck', I didn't know who he was at the time…I had only heard of Chuck Bass through Nate, and I didn't make a connection until just now -"

"Serena!" I cut her off. "You're rambling. What rumors are you talking about?" I asked hesitantly, not sure if I really wanted to know.

"Just -" She chewed on the inside of her lip. "Do you really want to hear this, Blair? You have to know the kind of reputation your boyfriend has."

My boyfriend. I gulped hard. "What are you not telling me?"

"A few months after you left for France, Georgie had a sex tape leaked. The guy in it isn't visible, but supposedly it's Chuck."

I felt my stomach plummet, and I had to close my eyes to keep from vomiting all over the white comforter. I placed my head in my hands. "It's not true," I whispered weakly, sounding as unsure as I felt. This was the same man who'd just admitted to me the night before that he had sex with three girls I went to high school with (two of whom I hate with a burning passion). How was this the guy I ended up in this whole stupid situation with? He could easily ruin my precarious standing among Manhattan's elite. Could this one week destroy my entire reputation?

"I'm sure it's not," she agreed gently. "I just didn't think about it when I invited Georgina. I'll make sure she stays away from the two of you."

"No," I glared, shaking my nerves off and replacing them with resolve. "Don't do that. If she wants to cross me or come near Chuck, I'll make her regret ever getting on a plane yesterday."

XOXO

We reached the harbor two hours later to find that most of the party were already seated aboard the yacht, drinks in hand. I quickly scanned the few dozen people for Chuck, and my pulse jumped when I found him sitting between Nate and Georgina. She angled her body toward him, her sheer cover-up barely concealing her skimpy bikini underneath. I narrowed my eyes in their direction, but he didn't seem to notice me. Instead, he was caught in a deep conversation with Nate. As far as I could see, he was completely ignoring Georgina, but he also wasn't doing anything to fend her off, either. Another inch or two, and she would end up in his lap.

With single minded purpose, I made my way over to the cozy trio, and batting my eyelashes around my doe eyes, I cooed sweetly, "Chuck, I missed you this morning."

He immediately registered the fliration in my voice and played right into my plan without a second thought. Sometimes it felt like he could read me better than even Serena could; he often understood my intentions without me vocalizing them. He stood up and wrapped his arms around my waist, leaning in to kiss my forehead. "Damn, baby, look at you," he rasped loudly enough for everyone in our vicinity to hear. I smiled up at him, the treacherous butterflies returning to my stomach.

It was the first time he'd used the word 'baby' in context (besides in front of the stewardess on the plane, but she hardly counted), and it still had the same powerful effect on my insides. I felt his hands edge their way beneath my kimono, skimming my bare thighs just below my bikini bottoms. A shudder ran down my spine, causing my mind to grow hazy with a mixture of desire and confusion. It was getting harder and harder to discern what was real and what was fake. I reminded myself that I was still angry with him and that this entire show was just for Georgina.

I could feel Georgina's eyes trained on us, a scowl marring her pale face, but I couldn't tear my eyes from the man in front of me. There was an intensity in his gaze that made me weak in the knees. I gasped when he pulled me harder against him, and all thoughts of Georgina or anyone else on the damn ship disappeared along with my anger. I didn't want an audience anymore; they'd seen enough, but wasn't that the whole point? Why did I suddenly want to be alone with him? I leaned in, raising my eyebrows coyly, and said, "Come on, I need a mimosa."

An hour or so later, I was lounged back against Chuck's chest, not unlike the night before on the beach before Georgina showed up. His hand passed soothing strokes up and down my arms, causing goosebumps to prickle my flesh. I grew bolder with each drink, and soon I was standing to my feet, peeling my kimono off of my shoulders. I watched Chuck's eyes grow hooded and the muscles pulsated in his throat as I exposed more of my body to him than I'd ever dared before this moment. His gaze fell to my legs, and he slowly, brazenly trailed them from my ankles over my stomach, pausing for a moment on my small breasts before landing back on my face. I felt empowered by his blatant appreciation of my body. "What do you think of my swimsuit, Chuck?"

He placed his hands on either side of my waist, lightly fingering the strings that tied my bottoms together. "I don't think I should answer that honestly in mixed company."

My breath hitched, and I glanced around us to see whose ears were meant to hear those suggestive words. Kati and Hazel sat at a table a few feet away, and Nate and Serena were cuddled up on a towel further down the deck. Neither set seemed to pay much attention to us, though, but it was so much easier to pretend that my every word was a part of this ruse we had created, especially given that Chuck had already mastered performing for an audience.

I lifted the champagne glass from the table, downing the rest of the liquid in one gulp, and nudged Chuck on the shoulder, "Let's go for a swim."

He pulled his shirt over his head, and I took the opportunity to truly appreciate the subtlety of his muscles flexing beneath slightly tanned skin. "Like what you see, Waldorf?" he asked playfully when he caught me staring.

"Shut up, Bass." I dove into the pool before he could see the crimson blush creeping into my cheeks. He followed immediately after me, his large arms engulfing my waist and flipping me into the water. I came up laughing, with strands of hair clinging to my face. It'd been a long while since I'd fully immersed myself in a swimming pool without worrying about my hair or the negative effects of the chlorine on my skin, but right now, I couldn't think of anything more freeing than wet hair and sun-soaked skin.

Chuck pushed me back until I hit the cold tiled wall of the pool. I wasn't sure if the feeling of intoxication was due to his presence or the alcohol coursing through my veins. He raised one hand to brush the strands of hair from my temple. "You're really beautiful like this," he said quietly, and I knew that it was just for me to hear.

The thumping of my unsteady heartbeat and the trembling of my hands betrayed my nerves as I gave into the feelings surrounding me. My arms encircled his neck, pulling him closer until there was no space between our eager bodies. I ran my fingers across the sharp line of his jaw, and his eyes closed in response to my touch. I leaned in until my lips hovered just an inch from his and whispered, "Kiss me, Chuck."

His eyes fluttered open for half a beat, as if he had to make sure he'd heard me correctly, but he didn't hesitate. His movements were agonizingly slow, and I thought I might actually die before his lips ever touched mine. Finally, he just barely grazed my mouth with his, purposefully teasing my lips, imploring me to initiate the actual connection. I sank my fingers into his wet hair and pulled his face to mine impatiently. When I pressed my mouth over his, allowing my tongue to make contact with his lower lip, he moaned and grabbed my hips tightly, anchoring our bodies together. My legs wrapped around his waist, and I could feel the full evidence of his arousal pressed directly against my thigh. I opened my mouth to him, tangling our tongues together as our hands explored each other with feverish, desperate motions. He palmed my butt cheeks, squeezing and caressing with uncontrolled movements. I subconsciously bucked against him, and he hissed into my mouth before reluctantly pulling back. "Blair," he rasped, resting his forehead against mine. "We're in public."

I panted, my chest heaving against his. I closed my eyes, unsure if I should feel guilty or embarrassed. I wanted to blame my enthusiasm on the alcohol, but I knew it was just an excuse. I was certainly tipsy, but I was nowhere close to drunk. I started to speak, but Chuck, seeming to sense the internal battle warring in my thoughts, gently leaned back in and pressed his lips to mine in a slower, less intense kiss. He opened his mouth to mine again in a silent indication that I shouldn't feel any shame for my desires.

I smiled, until I caught sight of Georgina out of the corner of my eye, and suddenly my entire conversation with Serena flooded my mind. I pushed Chuck back, trying to put some distance between our heated bodies. He furrowed his brows at me in confusion, so I whispered dismissively, "That was good. Definitely convincing. No one would dare guess that this whole thing is fake after that kiss."

His jaw flexed, and he dropped his hands from my waist. "Right," he sighed before dunking his head under the water and swimming away from me, leaving me feeling cold, alone, and exposed.

XOXO

I padded toward the bar, demanding the strongest martini the young bartender could make. I threw it back and asked for another one and another after that one. I felt a firm hand land on my shoulder, and I turned ready to deliver another lie to Chuck about how incredibly meaningless our kiss had been. Instead, I found myself looking up at Carter. "What are you doing, Blair?" he asked, his voice laced with an unkind accusation.

"What are you talking about?" I snapped, carefully trying to keep from slurring my words.

"What are you doing with Bass? He's beneath you." He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "We both know it."

I stiffened, anger surging through my cloudy mind. Why was everyone so judgmental of Chuck when they all participated in equally debaucherous behavior?

"Carter," I drawled slowly, resting my hand against the bar to steady myself. "You're beneath me. Georgina is beneath me. Chuck's better than both of you combined. Now if you'll excuse me."

I stumbled away from the bar in search of a quiet place to regain control of myself. The bartender must've listened when I asked for strong drinks because I felt dizzy, and walking was quickly becoming a challenge. "Hey," a soft, comforting voice said as a hand grasped mine and pulled me toward a bench. "Come on."

Chuck sat down beside me, pulling my hair off my face for a second time. He offered me a bottle of water, which I accepted and chugged clumsily, welcoming the hydration into my suddenly dry mouth. "Thanks." I buried my head in my hands.

This wasn't me. I didn't hump men in pools, get drunk in the middle of the day, and stumble around ships. Chuck's affect on me was scary at this point, and I couldn't figure out if I wanted to push him away or pull myself closer. He left me with this uneasy feeling, like I never knew exactly what was coming next. I felt off-center, and it was terrifying and exhilarating. I wanted to hate him, but that no longer seemed possible.

"Did you mean it?" His voice was tentative, maybe a little shy, causing me to look up in surprise. Chuck Bass was never unsure of himself, but he seemed almost nervous about my answer.

"What do you mean?"

"Did you mean what you told Carter?" His eyes were bright with hope. "The way you defended me…and yourself."

"Yes," I answered honestly. "You're many things, Chuck, but you're not beneath anyone." I offered him a smile. "Not even me."

He smirked. "What's going on, then? You've been off since last night, and today's been…" He trailed off, not finishing the thought. "Something is bothering you."

"Did you make a sex tape with Georgina?" I frowned, unable to hide the utter revulsion that those words inspired in the pit of my stomach.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, and for a moment, I thought he was angry with me for asking. "Blair," he began. "There are a lot of rumors about me. You know my reputation; you've experienced a lot of it first hand. If these types of things are going to bother you, then it's best that we part ways now because I promise you, it won't be the last thing you hear about me."

"But Georgina is -" I made a face to convey my contempt.

Chuck sighed. "Georgina is convenient. Two weeks ago, I was in a bad place. I need some immediate and meaningless relief, something to numb away the pain I didn't want to feel and the emotions that were too heavy to acknowledge. That's all she is – a momentary distraction when life is too hard. It had nothing to do with you or with this situation; it had everything to do with how fucked up I am. I'm sorry that it affected you." He turned away from me. "And, no, there was no sex tape. I don't know where that rumor came from."

I simply shook my head in understanding, the alcohol growing heavier in my system. I wanted to question him further, but it was apparent to me that he didn't want to talk about whatever had led him to seek out Georgina a few weeks ago, so I left it alone.

A few moments later, Serena appeared with a platter of shot glasses, demanding that we all take a shot to toast long-lasting friendships. Chuck tried to take mine from me, but I stubbornly refused him, downing the shot with the rest of the party.

After that point, I couldn't really recall how we made it back to the resort. I had flashes of coherence, but I could mostly only remember dancing and laughing. By the time we busted through the door of the suite, Chuck and I were sufficiently inebriated, though he seemed to be more in control of himself than I was. We weren't slurring and stumbling around, but our inhibitions were certainly compromised to some degree.

I glanced toward the bed, toward Chuck's pile of linens from last night, and back to the bed. What did I want? Why was I so nervous? What was this strange feeling growing in the depths of my stomach, threatening to spill over and consume me?

"What's wrong?" Chuck's deep voice broke into my thoughts.

"Nothing," I answered quickly, wringing my hands together as I contemplated my next move.

"Something's wrong," he corrected. "You're fidgeting."

I turned away from him, tears stinging my eyes for some unknown reason. "I'm fine."

"You're not," he pushed gently, coming around behind me so close that we were almost touching. "You can trust me. Let me show you that you can trust me."

"I -" I stopped talking when I felt his fingers linger against my collar bone.

"Close your eyes," he whispered.

For the first time since I met him, I didn't fight him; instead, I followed his instructions without question, letting my eyelids flutter shut in anticipation of his next directive. With each passing second of silence, I felt my senses become more aware of his proximity. My breath grew heavy, my chest heaved up and down with each inhalation, and my blood thrummed through my body to my beating heart. I anticipated his every move, but he still didn't touch me. I felt like I might come out of my skin if he didn't do something.

Finally, his lips grazed the side of my neck, sending a rash of shivers throughout my body. "It's getting really hard to make myself wait." His tongue peeked out to taste the saltiness of my skin. "You're very close to driving me out of my mind."

My body tensed as his hand trailed up my arm to cup the side of my face. He drew his lips across my throat to my ear and whispered, "Do you want me to back off?"

My lips parted, but no words came out. All I could manage was a pathetic shake of my head, denying his question.

He hummed against my ear, and a bolt of electricity shot straight through my body. "You want me to touch you, then?"

Oh, God, yes.

His hand fell from my throat to the neckline of my shirt; the heat of his palm pressed a path down between the valley of my breasts until it landed atop my abdomen. Every rational thought melted inside my head, and my legs nearly gave out from beneath me.

Somewhere inside me though, a distant warning bell sounded, as if there was something that I should keep in mind, some type of danger down this path that Chuck was leading me. "Chuck," I croaked quietly. "What are we…what is this…"

"We're just pretending?" He murmured, twisting the fabric of my shirt in his hand, exposing a sliver of my stomach to the icy air in the room. "Right, Blair? This is just practice for the performance in front of your friends."

He pressed another open mouthed kiss to my throat, and I whimpered, my eyelids fluttering at the contact. "No," he admonished. "Keep them closed. Keep pretending a little longer."

His fingers slipped under the hem of my shirt, slowly circling my navel. "I could show you exactly what it would be like." His touch was branding my skin, marking me as I melted against him. "If you were mine, I'd never stop touching you." He guided me until I was standing directly in front of the bar. He placed my hands on the countertop, pressing his body flush against mine. He caged me in, and he was the only thing that existed in that space and time. I was drowning in him. "If you were mine, you would crave this." He turned me so that I was facing him and grasped tightly onto my hips, lifting me onto the bartop so that he could stand between my legs. "You would welcome this."

I could feel him throbbing against me, and I knew without a doubt that his need was as strong as my own. My body was humming; his was pulsating, and together we were barely in control of ourselves. I bucked against him, aching for more contact, more friction. Our clothes hindered our movements, and I groaned, gripping his lapels and pulling him to me. "Chuck," I pleaded.

He kissed my left cheek, then my right, his lips hovering just above my own, so close that his mouth tickled mine. I tried to close the distance, but he held me in place, pinning me to the counter with ease. "Not this time, Blair," he panted breathlessly. "Not tonight."

"Why?" I rasped.

"Because, when I finally take you, you'll know that we're no longer pretending. I won't be showing you what it would be like if you were mine because you'll already know. When I'm finally inside of you, there won't be any doubt in your mind that this is real."