Missing scene from Pret-a-Poor-J.

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17

"Blair, does little Humphrey still work at your mother's atelier?" Chuck said, business-like down the phone.
"I was under the impression that the tragic little drop out does, yes. Why do you want to know, Bass?" Blair demanded in response, unable to help a little jealously from seeping into her voice.
"Because I've arranged a ménage a trois for her, your mother and myself and I was wondering if she'd still be there this evening." He said smoothly. Blair wrinkled her nose at the concept, but felt relief pool in her stomach that he obviously had no horizontal intentions towards Jenny Humphrey.
"Ha ha Chuck, much though that is a sickeningly believable story, I'd prefer the real explanation." She quipped, lying back on her bed. She listened to the loaded pause at the other end of the phone, wondering if he was constructing some excuse or just trying to establish what she was doing without asking.

"Are you in bed, Blair?" He eventually murmured seductively. She could practically hear the smirk in his voice. She immediately sat back up, her face flushing red.
"No! What kind of asinine question is that? Do you need specific visuals to get you through your imaginary threesomes?" She demanded. She heard him softly chuckle and felt a tugging sensation in her stomach as she imagined him lounging in the back of his limo, a smirk on his lips, his eyes lazily half-closed. She hated him and his stupid laugh, how easy it was for him to make her desire him without even trying.
"I don't need my imagination for any images of you, sweetheart, all I need to do is close my eyes and remember... mmm... Blair climbing on top of me while I'm on the phone to Nate, her tongue at my ear, Blair begging me to touch her, naked on my bed, Blair wearing lingerie in my limo, her thighs around my waist-"

"That's enough, thank you!" Blair hurriedly interrupted. She had sunk backwards into her pillows during his trip down memory lane, her eyes fluttering shut. She pictured him again, sitting in his limo stroking the leather where they'd once lain together, a burgeoning erection straining against his trousers. She shook her head in an attempt to clear it; there was no point getting herself worked up, it would come to nothing, not until she said she loved him. So never, then. She heard him chuckle again, followed by a low noise in the back of his throat which Blair recognised far too easily. He was definitely aroused, picturing her like she was picturing him.

There was a pause during which they listened to one another breathing. Blair was about to comment that his sounded a little heavy before she realised her breaths were just as shallow as his own. She flushed and struggled for something to say to him to break the sexual tension that was practically crackling down the phone.
"So, I guess little J will be at the atelier... although now I think about it, my mom is in Paris so it's probably closed a little early, looks like you're out of luck, Chuck." She said, cringing inwardly at her little rhyme.
"Really? Damn." he said, sounding relaxed. She heard the sound of a cigarette being lit and him taking a deep breath. She knew it was probably weed which she normally found abhorrent, but the idea of him sat there with an erection just from the thought of her, calmly blowing plumes of sweet smoke out of his gorgeous mouth only served to turn her on more. This sexual drought was really starting to get to her.

"What did you need from her?" Blair enquired.
"I will never need anything from Jenny Humphrey. Her services would have been convenient. I need to send my measurements to Saville Row before tonight and all the established stores are closed for the evening so there isn't a tape measure to be had in town. And I hear Humphrey gives good inside seam." He told her, a lecherous grin on his face.
"How does her location make her convenient? The atelier is on the other side of town from you." Blair questioned, trying to keep her voice calm and resist the rage that flooded her on hearing him make allusions to Jenny and his inner thighs.
"I had an errand to run for Bart, Eleanor's place would have been on the way back to the apartment." Chuck told her simply. Blair felt a rush of affection for him at hearing that he was out on a favour for his father; she knew he'd do anything for him. Her desire for him settled into its usual low ebb in her subconscious and she was overwhelmed with the wish to see him, just to be in the same room as him, inhale his scent; expensive cologne and pomade.
"You know, my mother showed me how do measurements. I'm the only person she'd trust to know her real ones." Blair said, attempting to sound off the cuff and glib. "If you're out by the design studio then my place is between you and home... you could just stop by here, if it's important."
"That could work." He said after a pause, his tone indecipherable.
"Just come straight on up, Dorota is out with her doorman beau tonight. I'd be appalled if it wasn't so freakishly sweet." She said, beginning already to look around her room in a panic.
"See you in ten." He said in the same unreadable tone, before ending the call.

Blair dropped her phone and scrambled off the bed, unzipping her dress as she went. She knew it was futile, dressing for him, no amount of lace or leg would sway him from his decision- he's too damn stubborn, she thought- but she couldn't help but want to be appealing for him. Deciding to go for at home casual as opposed to trying to find a completely new outfit, she went to her nightwear closet and grabbed a bronze-coloured silk playsuit. She slipped her stockings off and slid the garment on, allowing herself a thrill of pleasure at the feeling of the cold cloth on her hot skin. She pulled on her favourite white robe while she stepped carelessly into a pair of black Marc Jacob pumps, stumbling a little as she stepped forward on the three-inch heels a little before her foot was entirely in it. She had just finished twisting her hair so it would tumble over her right shoulder and leapt back onto the bed with homework spread around her when she heard the elevator arrive. She felt her heart rate quicken but she ignored it, pretending she couldn't hear his familiar footfalls on the marble stairs and that she was immersed in her French Literature assignment.

"Waldorf," he said from the doorway, "let's see what you've got." She slowly looked up at him and felt her stomach clench; dangerously immaculate as always. Tight-fitting dress pants in deep blue, a pink polo shirt worn with a paisley cravat and a taupe jacket with brass buttons. She took a deep breath that she hoped he would interpret as a sigh of exasperation as she slid off the edge of the bed, grabbing a tape measure off her bedside table as she went.
"It's not like it's a remarkable skill, Chuck, it's just holding a tape measure against you and writing down some numbers." She replied, slinking over to him. She was glad when she noticed his eyes raking her form, his gaze appreciatively lingering on the long expanse of bare leg leading up to the silk shorts.
"Is that all you have to hold against me?" He said suggestively, raising an eyebrow at her as she went behind him to slip his jacket off his shoulders.
"You could hold me against whatever you wanted if you'd only remove the ride restrictions." She replied archly, beginning to measure his shoulders and back, making notes of the measurements in between leaning closer than any tailor would dare, so that she could breathe him in.

They were mostly silent as she got to the task at hand, taking all of the necessary details, moving slowly round the room and basking in the warm feeling of his eyes fixed on her whenever possible. Eventually she walked straight up to him, gazing directly into his eyes, her tongue darting out to moisten her bottom lip. She watched his gaze drop to her lip and saw his eyes become clouded with lust. When she stood directly in front of him she could feel his desire radiating from him. She met his eyes as she pressed herself against him, feeling his erection against her hip and her nipples hardening at the contact. She reached around his back and he put his hand softly against her cheek, looking at her questioningly like he hadn't seen her in years. She smiled softly and brought the tape measure between her hands to circle his chest, stepping away from him and out of his touch. His mouth dropped open just a little and she pressed her fingers to it to silence him before he could say anything.
"Thirty six." She whispered with an angelic smile as he pressed his lips to her fingertips before she brought them down to her side.
"What?" He whispered, snapping out of his reverie, following her as she walked to the notebook at her desk.
"Your chest measurement. Is that not normal?" She asked innocently, wrapping the tape measure around her wrists, binding them together as she sauntered back towards him, the action pushing her modest cleavage together. She saw Chuck glance down to her breasts, her nipples clearly showing her arousal through the thin material of her playsuit. He then looked to her bound wrists and she was sure she saw him swallow as he tried to compose himself.

When she was stood in front of him again, she smiled sweetly as she quickly freed her wrists, placing the tape measure around her neck. He smirked and she could sense the sarcastic comment on his tongue so she did the first thing she could think of to prevent it. Leaning into him slightly, she put her palms flat on his chest. She looked up into his face, directly into his curious eyes as she began to sink down his body, her hands never moving from his chest as they slid down with her until she was on her knees in front of him. She saw the intense light in his eyes and thought that maybe, just maybe, it would be possible to get what she needed without having to lose their little game. She stopped her hands at the waistband of his pants. She slowly undid his belt buckle and drew it from his pants, never breaking their gaze. She dropped the belt and took the tape measure from round her neck, pulling her hair to the side again, exposing her delicate neck, before reaching around behind him. She looked away from his eyes in order to stretch her arms around him, bringing her face millimetres away from the bulge at his crotch, she was sure he could feel her hot breaths through the material. She heard him moan her name quietly and felt his hand come down to her neck, his cool fingers pressing on into her warm skin, massaging her gently.

She brought the tape measure around his waist to continue the charade of taking his measurements, despite making no effort to get off the floor and go and make a note of them. She let one end of the tape fall to the ground and reached to get it, keeping her other hand on his waistband, her thumb just resting on his evident erection, putting gentle pressure on it to match the pressure he put on her neck, nudging her face gently towards his crotch. She tapped on the insides of his feet, he stepped gently apart as she held the tape measure against his ankle, before slowly sliding her hand up the inside of his leg, stopping at mid thigh and causing him to release a gentle woosh of breath she hadn't been aware he was holding. She leant back to look into his eyes as her hand travelled the last few inches up his leg to put her palm firmly over the front of his trousers, rubbing slowly at the bulge there. His eyes seemed heavy lidded, his grip on her neck was now almost painful. As she rubbed he brought his other hand down to her breast, he caressed it gently through her clothes causing her eyelids to flutter almost shut.

She licked her lips and brought her hands away from his cock and to his waistband, the button popping open with ease. She could see the shape of his tip very clearly in his boxers and she felt her mouth fill with saliva as she looked at it hungrily. Her fingers had just moved to the zip when suddenly his hand left her breast and was at her cheek again, bringing her face gently up to meet his as he crouched so they were at the same height.
"Say it." He murmured, heavy lidded. Blair felt tears prick her eyelids.
"Chuck I can't." She replied, breathless.
"Please Blair. We can finish this, now, tonight, and I can carry you to your bed and make you cry for more, but not until you say it." He whispered, his eyes clearer now, searching her own.
"Why Chuck? You know how I feel, I know how you feel, you said it yourself; we're inevitable. Why does it need words, why do we need to say it? Why can't we just come together, you want it as much as I do." She insisted, a tear brimming over her eye as she reached desperately for the front of his trousers to highlight his desire for her. He stood up and away from her, her hand falling into her lap where she knelt on the floor before him.
"I've never wanted anything more." He told her as he picked up his jacket and slipped it on. "But I'm sorry, we can't, not like this, not until you tell me how you feel." He looked at her, tear tracks silently making their way down her cheeks as she gazed at him. He wanted to walk away, to finish their encounter abruptly, but looking at her face he couldn't, he walked to her and took her cheek in his hand one final time as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. When he stepped away her eyes were still closed, her lips slightly parted and her forehead a little furrowed as though she were in pain. She didn't open her eyes until she heard the door click shut, as it was only then that she knew she was truly alone.