Chapter 10

A/N: I know that it's been a little while since I updated. Things have just been super busy, but I promise I'm not abandoning this story. I'll be on vacation next week, but I will do my best to get the next update out quicker. I post story updates and polls on Twitter, if you want to follow me there under the same name.

Note: In the universe in which this fic takes place, Serena dated Dan before Nate cheated on Blair with her, so the timeline is a little bit different than the show.

Chuck pressed my body against the door; his mouth latched onto my neck while his hands worked their way beneath the layers of my skirt. My head fell back against the hard surface with a thud, my eyes rolling back in pleasure, as his tongue lapped hungrily against my clavicle. I moaned, working my arms around his waist beneath his jacket to pull him closer. In the distance, I heard faint chatter, alerting us to the fact that we had not yet made it back inside of our villa.

"Chuck," I gasped when he squeezed my ass through my lace underwear.

"Hmm?" He grasped my thighs with each of his hands and lifted me to wrap my legs around his waist. There was no gentleness to his movements; he was driven on by raw, carnal need. He pushed me harder against the door so that there wasn't even an ounce of space between our bodies. I rocked against him, and he tightened his hold on my hips, his fingers biting into my flesh to the point that it would be painful if it didn't feel so good.

"The key," I managed before his lips collided with mine, his mouth nearly enough to make me forget about our potential public display of indecency. He trailed kisses down my jaw back to my neck, and I closed my eyes, wanting to drown myself in the sensation. "We need - ah - we need to go inside."

"Wallet," he rasped, moving his mouth to the swells of my breasts peeking out from the low-cut neckline of my blouse. He licked and nipped at my skin, and it took all of the concentration I had to fish his wallet out of his jacket pocket. I fumbled with the key card, pushing it into his right hand - the one that wasn't anchoring me to him. After three tries, he managed to get the door opened while still holding me against his hips. He kicked the door closed and carried me inside.

He deposited me gently on the bed as he slowly removed his jacket and dropped it to the floor. He placed one knee on the bed beside me, pushing me back into the pillows to climb over my body. His kisses grew softer and more patient, which only served to accelerate the desire churning in my blood. I was quickly learning that there were many sides to Chuck, and it seemed that I was growing closer to seeing the real him - the him that he kept hidden from the rest of the world. His barriers were slowly falling away, revealing more of him to me with each minute we spent together.

He worked the buttons on my shirt one by one at an excruciating pace, seeming to savor the process of undressing me. After several moments, he pulled back and pushed each side of my blouse out of the way so that he could drink in my half-naked form. He let his gaze linger on my swollen breasts, my chest heaving from the lust coursing through my veins, but I felt no desire to hide from his eyes. Instead, I found myself turned on by his blatant perusal of my body. He lavished a trail of kisses over the curve of my breasts, down my stomach, stopping just above the waistband of my skirt. My stomach contorted as he dipped his tongue into my navel and worked his way back up my body. His fingers gently caressed my ribs, and I arched my back off the mattress with a moan of pleasure. My breasts felt heavy, straining against the material of my bra, and I breathed out a sigh of relief when he brought his hands to the front clasp between my breasts. "May I?" he husked out, looking up at me from beneath hooded lids for confirmation.

I nodded my head and closed my eyes, preparing to feel the cool air hit my naked flesh. I was desperate for his touch; my entire body trembled uncontrollably from the anticipation. His palm flattened against my chest, but he made no movement to remove the offending garment. I opened my eyes, "Wha -"

"I thought I heard -" he tried to explain, but he was cut off by a sharp knock against the door. "Shit," he cursed under his breath, dropping his head to my chest in frustration. "Should I get rid of them?"

"Blair?" I heard a quiet sniffle from the other side of the door. "Are you in there?"

I sat up, pushing Chuck off of me with a quick peck to his lips, and said, "I'm sorry."

I rushed to the door, hastily buttoning my shirt in the process. I found Serena standing in the entryway, a path of dark mascara streaking down her cheeks. She held a tissue to her nose, blowing hard, and I had to look away to hide my grimace. Serena's chest rose and fell with inconsolable sobs when I wrapped my arms around her without a word, pulling her inside the suite.

Chuck adjusted himself discreetly, clearly still aroused from his exploration of my body. I dropped my eyes to his tented trousers and offered him an apologetic shrug. He cleared his throat and grunted, "I'll be at the bar."

I gave him a small smile of gratitude and led Serena to sit on the bed that I would much rather be in the process of rumpling with Chuck than comforting a teary-eyed blonde. I shook my head of those unhelpful thoughts and set about wetting a washcloth with cool water to clean Serena's marred face. "What happened?" I asked gently.

"I -" she sniffled again. "I found something on Nate's phone when I was looking through the pictures he took at the bonfire."

"What did you find?" I pushed a strand of messy curls off of her face, waiting patiently for an explanation.

In answer, Serena held up her own phone with a screenshot of Nate's text history. I quickly scanned through the messages that were dated eight days ago, during which Serena had spent a few days in Boston on a work assignment.

347-928-3463: Thanks again for last night. What started as a crappy evening turned into a really great night. ;)

Nate: Glad I could help. It was fun, even if I am still a little sore. Lol.

347-928-3463: Do you have any free time today? I'd love to see you again.

Nate: Serena's plane lands in three hours, so I have a little time before then.

347-928-3463: Awesome. In thirty minutes? Your place?

Nate: Sounds good.

Nate: Listen, you have to be gone before Serena gets back though. I don't want her to know you were here.

347-928-3463: It'll be our little secret. Promise.

Nate: Don't tell Dan either.

347-928-3463: Wouldn't dream of it.

Well, that certainly did look incriminating, but, still, surely Serena was jumping to conclusions. "Do you know whose number that is?"

"After I saw mention of Dan's name," she wiped at her eyes with her now ruined tissue, "I had a pretty good inkling. It's Jenny Humphrey's number."

That stupid little bitch's name was getting brought up far too much for my liking lately. "Okay, why would she be texting Nate?"

"I have no idea," she sighed. "While you were away, about two years ago, Nate and I got into a fight, and I stupidly told him that I thought we should take a break. Jenny'd always had a thing for him, and she latched onto his vulnerability, acting like she was being a friend when really she was just trying to drive a bigger wedge between us. She kissed him, but he told her that he was going to do everything he could to salvage his relationship with me. They had been friends ever since Jenny's dad took him in for a little while when everything was going down with the Captain." She stopped talking for a moment, seemingly lost inside her own head, and I realized that I had missed a lot in my six years away. "I didn't want to seem possessive or jealous, but I asked him not to see or speak to her anymore. I cut off all communication with Dan after Nate and I became official, so I hoped he would do the same for me. I guess I was wrong."

"I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation," I soothed. "Nate's not a cheater -" I trailed off when she shifted uncomfortably and averted her eyes from mine. "Well, he's not a cheater anymore," I corrected with only a slight edge of snarkiness in my tone. "He loves you. He would never let someone else get in the way of that."

"Either way," she huffed. "Even if he didn't cheat, he still lied to me - and a week before our wedding no less."

"True," I could commiserate with the pain that came from the people you care about keeping secrets from you. "I really think that in his thick brain, he probably thought he was protecting you. I am on your side always, but I don't think Nate did anything untoward here. His texts aren't even flirtatious, only secretive."

"What am I supposed to do?" She buried her head in my lap, and I stroked her arm softly. "I'm getting married in two days. I don't want this hanging over us, but I still feel really hurt."

"You need to talk to him, S," I encouraged. "This is going to keep weighing on your mind until you do."

"How do you do it, B?" Serena sat up, her eyes shining brightly with unshed tears. "I lost it after I saw these text messages. How can you be around all of these women who've slept with your boyfriend? How can you sit and listen to all of the rumors about him and never question his faithfulness?"

I breathed in slowly, contemplating my response. The truth was that in our three days of fake dating and one day of actual dating, I didn't have a lot of experience to draw on. But, thinking back over the last few days, I had already encountered a rumored sex tape, talk of multiple former lovers, and an awkward run-in with a friend who gave him a happy ending at a high school party. I hadn't handled each of those very gracefully; in fact, my reaction had included throwing shoes, breaking cologne, and drinking copious amounts of alcohol, and all of this had taken place among friends and acquaintances. What would happen when we were back in New York? Would we run into scorned women in restaurants? Have unfortunate and embarrassing encounters with young, beautiful models whose names he couldn't remember? What could it all mean for the reputation I'd spent six years trying to rebuild after my best friend and my boyfriend betrayed me? Perhaps dating Chuck was just inviting the same ridicule I'd already been subjected to back into my life.

I exhaled through my nose and held my chin high. I didn't really consider the implications of my words when I said, "Well, I have plenty of experience with the rumors that accompany a man's infidelity. I let them run me out of town once; I won't let loose lips have a hold over me anymore. At least, Chuck owns up to who he is and doesn't pretend to be above his reputation. He's never betrayed me, unlike other people who claim to care about me, and I trust him wholly."

Serena stiffened again. Dammit, I was supposed to be comforting her, and this was the second time that I let my mouth get away from me in regards to her relationship with Nate. I didn't even care anymore, so why couldn't I let go of the grudge? I didn't want Nate, and Serena was happy - or at least, she had been before today. Why couldn't I stop rehashing history. "I'm sorry," I whispered, but there wasn't much sincerity in my voice.

"No, B." Her lower lip trembled as she reached out a tentative hand to clasp mine with hers. "I've been so selfish. We…I never even properly apologized to you, not really."

"You don't need -"

"Yes, I do," she cut me off. "You've been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and I hurt you. I betrayed you in the worst way, and…and I just let you leave." Tears tumbled from her eyes, but she didn't try to stop them. Her voice broke with the weight of her guilt. "You went to Paris, and I barely tried to get you to stay because I was afraid if you did, Nate would come to his senses and realize what a mistake we made, and I would lose both of you."

I swallowed hard. It had taken years of therapy to come to terms with what they'd done, but listening to her now, I understood that the pain was not only from their betrayal, but from the realization that they'd both let me go so easily. Neither one tried to fight for me, and I felt utterly and completely alone. I'd never once felt like someone's first choice – well, not until yesterday with Chuck. He made me feel things that I didn't even know I could feel because he chose me. He chose to be with me, to pursue me, and his need for me was so fierce that I actually believed in my own desirability.

I could see the vulnerability reflecting in Serena's eyes, but I wasn't going to sugarcoat my feelings this time. We both needed honesty, even if it stung. The longevity of our friendship depended on this conversation. A rogue tear trailed down my cheek, and I swiped it away as I admitted, "You hurt me so badly. I felt like I didn't matter to you anymore. I was so lonely. You broke my heart worse than Nate ever could."

She lowered her head to my lap once again, her entire body shaking with uncontrollable sobs. "I'm so sorry, Blair," she cried. "God, I'm so sorry. I missed you so much, but I didn't know how to face you after what I did."

I stroked her hair and let all of the tension fall from my body, physically shaking off the pent-up anger that had lodged itself deep inside my heart years ago. "I know," I lifted her head and wrapped my arms around her shoulder, resting my chin against her messy hair. "I forgive you, Serena." I kissed her temple and said, "Now go talk to Nate. Don't let another six years pass with this hanging over your head."

XOXO

By the time Chuck returned to our suite, it was nearing dinner time before we all headed out for the bachelor / bachelorette festivities. I stood in front of the mirror in my bra and underwear, adding the final touches to my make-up before getting dressed for the evening. I gasped when his arms snaked around my waist, and he rested his chin on my shoulder. "You look gorgeous." He placed a kiss against my neck, and I melted into him like warm butter.

"I'm not even dressed yet," I sighed breathlessly as his fingertips trailed a path along my rib cage and down my stomach.

"Exactly," he murmured, slipping his fingers along the waistband of my underwear. I shuddered against him, wanting more than anything to give into his cruel teasing.

"We've got to get ready for dinner." I extracted myself from his arms, feeling a little strained after my conversation with Serena. Mine and Chuck's relationship had changed so quickly, but I still hadn't been able to completely reconcile my feelings for him. Was he my boyfriend now? Did I even want a boyfriend, and if I did, could I be certain that he was the right choice? Right now, everything felt so good between us, but would that change after we finally had sex? Maybe the electricity between us was only supercharged because we hadn't yet explored our physical limits. We enjoyed each other's company, but it could all fade away after the mystery and intrigue had dissipated.

He seemed to sense my cool demeanor because he stepped back without comment. I rummaged through the closet for the outfit we'd purchased specifically for this event. The Herve Leger dress with the keyhole neckline that I definitely couldn't wear a bra with somehow seemed even tighter and more revealing now that I had to wear it in public. A few weeks ago, I got a thrill modeling the dress for Chuck, watching his throat bob as he took in my figure, but now I wished I had chosen something more modest. I felt exposed and uncomfortable. I wasn't sure what was affecting my mood so drastically, but I couldn't shake the irritation that I felt as I dressed quietly.

We walked to the restaurant in silence, though I let him hold my hand loosely in his own. I knew that my change in attitude must've been confusing for him, and I desperately wanted to shake myself out of my sour mood. Unfortunately whatever black cloud loomed over me followed us to the table, and I found myself reconstructing the walls that I had let Chuck tear down on our date a few hours earlier.

I ordered a glass of Dom '95 and turned my attention to my phone. It went against everything in me to throw all of my social graces out the window and rudely scroll through Instagram instead of conversing with the man sitting across from me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his stiff posture, his hands balled into fists at his side, and his mouth set into a firm line. He was growing agitated with my behavior, and I couldn't blame him. I tried to ignore him, but it was impossible. "What?" I snapped at last.

"What's with the sudden frigidness, Blair?" He growled, but something besides anger flickered across his eyes. "We had a great day together, but this hot and cold act is getting old fast."

I ignored the sharp tone with which he addressed me and asked, "Why do you want to be with me, Chuck? Really? You're attracted to me, and you like spending time with me. I get that much, but what specifically is it about me that is so different from all of the other women you bed? What's to keep me from becoming one of those women? How long before you grow bored and move on?"

I clenched my jaw together, emotions weighing heavy on me like a boulder. I couldn't quite discern where all of it was coming from, but I needed something from him besides hungry kisses and elaborate gifts. I needed something real.

His eyes softened, and he pulled my chair closer to him so that he could look me directly in the eye. "Honestly, Blair, I'm still sorting through that myself, but trust me when I say that you could never be just another girl to me. When I first saw you at the Palace, you were barking orders to one of the bellhops, and I thought you were just another bitchy Manhattan socialite who treated the hotel staff like dogs, but then you turned to Ronaldo and smiled so brightly that my heart thrummed in my chest like I'd never felt before. You patted his hand, and the old man winked at you. In the same moment that you charmed him, you had me hooked." He looked away from me, and I knew that the admission was hard for him. "From that day forward, I needed to know you. I found myself leaving the office early and scheduling my elevator trips to match yours. I just wanted a few minutes in your presence, even if it was filled with scathing remarks and hateful insults."

My lips parted to speak, but I had no words for his confession. I swallowed back my tears, hanging on his every word as he continued. "I learned as much as I could about you; it's how I knew your favorite movies, snacks, and flowers. I know that you read Pride and Prejudice when you need to escape reality, that disorder makes you feel out of control so you insist on tidiness and organization for your own peace of mind, that despite the fact that the world thinks you've been handed your success on a silver platter, you actually work your ass off for that thankless assistant position. I know that you've saved your boss's ass on more than one occasion, but she rarely acknowledges your worth. I know that when you lie, your eyes don't match your mouth." He leaned closer to me, letting his fingers draw small circles into my wrist. "I know that you're scared of losing Serena and Nate after the wedding. You're scared that being with me will make you appear weak. Beneath the icy exterior, you're a woman who loves deeply, a woman who is fiercely loyal. I know that you're the only woman who has ever made my heart stop beating with one look while jump starting it with another."

I closed my eyes, drinking in each of his words. No one had ever seen me as clearly as he did. I was equally unnerved and enthralled. I pushed myself out of my seat and settled into his lap. His arms automatically came around my waist, resting against the curve of my hip, and I slowly leaned in, pressing my lips against his in a sweet kiss. "Thank you," I murmured against his mouth. I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my head into his chest. I couldn't bring myself to verbalize my apology, but hopefully my actions were adequate.

The soft kisses he peppered across my jaw told me that he'd already forgiven me.

XOXO

Chuck guided me through the upscale club with a protective hand anchored to the small of my back. We found the rest of the wedding party seated in the VIP area at the front of the club. Georgina was cozied up to Carter, so I hoped that they would both keep their distance for the night. They'd irritated me enough this week, and I didn't feel like dealing with them. I looked around for Serena, but she was nowhere in sight. I asked Kati and she shrugged, saying that she had excused herself to the restroom about ten minutes ago.

I turned to Chuck, "I'm going to find Serena and make sure she's okay."

He looked a little hesitant to let me go, but he simply nodded, pressing my clutch under my arm. "Call me if you need me. It's crowded, and you look way too good in that dress. I can only imagine what the half these pricks are thinking -"

I cut him off with a kiss, finding his words of caution equally annoying and endearing. "She's in the bathroom. I'll be fine."

I pushed open the door to the ladies' lounge, praying that I wouldn't find a drunken and distraught Serena hugging a toilet bowl. Instead I found the blonde bombshell who'd always challenged my self-esteem standing at the counter, reapplying bright pink lipstick to her pouty mouth. I resisted the urge to check my own reflection, and said, "There you are."

"Oh, hey, B," she smiled at me, and I knew that everything was okay.

"I take it your talk with Nate went well?" I guessed.

"Yeah, he explained that Jenny was in LA for a fashion show last week, but she lost her ID and had nowhere to go, so she crashed on our couch after they played Wii Sports for a while. That's why he said he was sore. They got lunch the next day because he felt bad for her being in town by herself. Miraculously, she found her ID right before her flight." Serena rolled her eyes, making it clear that she didn't buy Jenny's story for one minute. "But I believe Nate. He's a terrible liar, and I could tell he was being honest."

A frown crossed my mouth for a moment, and I asked, "Why did he lie in the first place, though? Why not just tell you last week instead of keeping it a secret?"

"He said that he didn't want to stress me out any more than I already was with the wedding coming up," she shrugged. "I told him that it hurt that he kept it from me, and that it caused a bigger issue than it should've by him not being truthful. He apologized and then we had make-up sex." I scrunched my nose in mock disgust. "Oh, come on," she shoved my shoulder lightly. "I may have been in distress, but I know what I walked in on this afternoon. You and Chuck were mere minutes from -" She made a motion with her fingers meant to indicate sex.

"God, you're so immature," I laughed alongside her. "But yeah, you did interrupt a pretty intense moment." I clenched my thighs together at the memory of his mouth tracing a path across my stomach, causing me to quiver beneath him.

"Come on," she grabbed my hand and pulled me through the door toward the dance floor. "Let's give these men something to stare at."

She raised her hands above her head as she swayed her hips to the beat of the music, her exposed midriff and supple breasts drawing attention from the crowd around us. I tried to ignore the stares, but without the haze of alcohol, I felt too self-conscious to enjoy myself. "I need a drink," I yelled over the music and worked my way toward the bar.

I pushed my way to the counter, carefully avoiding stumbling idiots and groping hands. I planted myself between a red-head college student and an attractive man who appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties. I waited patiently for several minutes when the man beside me managed to get the bartender's attention. He looked at me and asked, "What are you drinking?"

"Oh, that's okay," I stumbled over my words. "I'm here with -"

"I'm not trying to hit on you." He held up his hand, revealing a wedding band on his left ring finger. "I'm just trying to help you out while I have his attention, so what are you drinking?"

"Oh, um," My mind blanked on all of my favorite drinks. "I -"

He said something, but I couldn't make out his words over the loud music. "What?!" I yelled.

He leaned in closer to my ear, and said, "Do you like fruity cocktails?"

I giggled involuntarily as his deep voice tickled my ear. "No, I -" Before I could finish my response, someone gripped my hand tightly, pulling me away from the man.

"Thank you for keeping my girlfriend company, but I'll take it from here," Chuck growled at the man, yanking me through the crowd and down the corridor to the restrooms. He threw open the door to the women's restroom and locked it behind him.

"What the hell?" I screeched, wrenching myself free of his grasp.

"I should ask the same question," he snapped. "I thought you were going to find Serena."

"I did. She and I were dancing, and I needed a drink."

"And you were flirting with that asshole because?" His muscles jumped under his clenched jaw, flames of irrational jealousy reflecting in his eyes.

"I wasn't flirting," I snarled. "And he wasn't an asshole. That would be you."

"You were giggling. He was whispering in your ear. That certainly looked like flirting to me."

"Not that I owe you an explanation, but he's married, Chuck. He was just helping me get the bartender's attention. It was loud, so I couldn't hear him. You acting like a jealous neanderthal was really uncalled for." I crossed my hands over my chest, narrowing my eyes at him.

"You're right." He stalked toward me slowly, caging my body against the door until he was only a hair's breadth away from me. His hand came up to glide across my collar bone, causing my chest to heave in anticipation. He brought his mouth to my ear and whispered, "I saw him talking to you, and I was blinded with jealousy. You make me crazy." He ran his palm down the front of my dress, skimming my breast. "The very thought of another man touching you drives me out of my mind."

"You've no need to be jealous," I sighed breathlessly.

"And why's that?" He breathed against my mouth, kissing me with a possessiveness that stirred my blood while I tugged at the buttons of his shirt.

"Because I'm yours," I murmured, running my hands over the planes of his chest. He was hot under my touch, and I could feel my own body temperature rising several degrees with each passing second. "You called me your girlfriend," I realized, and that one small word lit my body on fire.

"Mmm, that I did." He groaned when my hand brushed over the front of his pants, and I could feel him grow impossibly hard beneath my touch.

"I want you, Chuck," I pleaded, a small whimper escaping my mouth when he lifted my dress around my hips, coaxing me to wrap my legs around his waist. He punched his hips against me, clenching his eyes tightly as I bucked back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. I could feel the length of him nestled between my legs, and I was overcome with raw, animalistic need. I deepened our kiss, fumbling clumsily for his belt.

"No," he groaned finally, setting me back on my feet and taking a step away from me. "Not here. Our first time together won't be in a public bathroom."

"But -" I whimpered in disappointment, a dull ache spreading through my body from the tension mounting in each of my muscles.

"Trust me," he husked, leaning his forehead against mine as he tried to slow his breathing, "I would love nothing more than to make you come right here, right now, but we have a dozen or so people out there waiting for us. It won't be long before they send out the search party, and I need to take my time with you. I plan to savor every delicious second that I have you writhing underneath me."

I puckered my lips into a pout and nodded, incapable of formulating actual words while the image he'd just painted swirled in my head.

"Not much longer, baby," he kissed me firmly, helping me readjust my dress around my hips. "I promise."