Blair caught sight of the dining table on her way through and doubled back, immediately suspicious.
The good china was out. Her flower arrangement had been topped up with fresh white lisianthus. They were beautiful, but unnecessary for a weeknight dinner with just her and her mother. Where she barely ate and Eleanor barely noticed she was there.
"Are we expecting company?" she curiously watched Dorota placing crystal water goblets.
No response came, of course. Unless she was causing Eleanor trouble there was never any answer. She had to walk back into the living room and repeat the question to her distracted mother.
"Yes yes," Eleanor brushed her off.
She had her glasses on. They were like the shield against Blair's presence, screaming 'don't disturb me, I'm reading'. Well bad luck. Because she had homework and school to worry about and dinner guests required adequate warning so she could adjust her schedule accordingly. She had to study, and if she'd known she had to allot more than the standard twenty minutes for dinner, she would not have spent the afternoon upstairs with Chuck.
A small smile crept up onto her lips. Well, she would have spent less of the afternoon upstairs with Chuck.
"Who?" Blair prompted.
It was too late to back out of attending now so she may as well just get it over with. Should she change? Who would be coming over on a school night? Laurel, maybe. A model or two. It was always important to display her best self to the world, her mother had driven that home. Protect your reputation above everything. She tugged at her shirt shamedly. Unless the dinner guest was Dorota, she'd best go upstairs and put on something else. Something that Chuck Bass hadn't been sliding his eager hand under.
"Just an old friend, don't distract me now, I'm working," Eleanor waved her off.
I'm working. How she hated those words. Daddy had never told her to go away because he was working. But then Daddy had stopped working and gone away altogether.
"Go do your homework or – something," the hand which now only sported her grandmother's heirloom ring fluttered in Blair's direction, indicating her daughter should go away and leave her alone.
The elevator sounded and that single mechanical ding was apparently plenty to draw her attention from her precious paperwork. Blair didn't say a word and tried not to look spiteful. She knew her mother had been bitten by the Archibald's fall from grace, linked in a way that even Blair wasn't and she was the one in a relationship. Now Eleanor was having a difficult time trying to tie down contracts for her public launch. It was why Blair was trying not to antagonize her.
There was still a bit of bitterness though, it would be nice to be told when they were having guests. When she would have to rearrange her day and bite her tongue and look perfect for another two hours of the tiring day. Now she didn't even have time to change and would be thinking about how Chuck delighted in the drawn out unwrapping of his package, this package, licking her stockings while he removed her shorts.
Her mother brushed past her and Blair jumped, shaking away the thought of Chuck and Chuck's naughty tongue and Chuck's dirty mouth and vowed not to think of him again this evening.
It was the "Bart, how lovely to see you," that made Blair's heart suddenly slam against her chest.
"Oh no," she quietly whimpered.
Her mother moved aside and she saw Bart Bass kissing each of her made-up cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut and quickly sent a prayer out into the heavens. Then she tilted her head to the left and looked beyond Bart. His hot but nervous looking son stepped off the elevator for the second time this afternoon. Chuck's moves were jerky, which if you knew him meant he was mentally off-balance and trying to hide it.
"Oh no," Blair desperately repeated to herself.
"And Charles," Eleanor wasn't exactly cold, but there was a tone in her voice that reeked of disapproval. Her high-pitched voice rang out across the apartment. "Let Dorota take your coats."
The order was just that and as Eleanor linked her arm through Bart's, she took the time to spare Chuck a speculative glare.
"What can I offer you to drink, Bart? Wine?"
Blair's eyes flew to Chuck's in utter panic. Their parents seemed nonchalant as they casually moved to the cellar by the kitchen, apparently to make a wine selection. He was watching his father walk away with the same horrified look in his eyes. Then his gaze turned on her. The calm, cool, collected womaniser she had been allowing to touch her for some weeks now looked terrified. The caramel darkness of the eyes she quite enjoyed staring into widened perceptibly until all there was to see was black. He sunk his white teeth into his lip. His plump, dark red, perfect lip that felt ridiculously good when she had her shirt off and he was – No! Parents! Bad Blair!
Bad Blair's body for wanting him all over her again!
She hurriedly turned her gaze back to her mother's voice, hoping she hadn't been caught in her lusting after the devious boy. Luckily only the backs of Eleanor and Bart could be seen as they stood at the entrance to the wine room, surveying the ordered racks.
Chuck's reluctance was clear as he handed Dorota his coat. The maid narrowed her killer Polish glare at him, the one that said 'You only left here an hour ago and don't think I don't know what you were doing up in Miss Blair's room'.
Tonight was going to be a disaster. All Blair could hope was that her maid kept her mouth shut as she seemed to have done thus far. She shot a warning glance at Dorota implying her loyalty was to her younger charge, not the mother, and she'd damn well better remember that.
Chuck missed the subtle maid/heiress interaction. No matter how much he tried to deny it, he only had eyes for Blair. And when she looked back to him, they communicated perfectly across the expanse of the apartment without a single spoken word. Chuck lifted a questioning eyebrow to ask if she knew what this was about. Blair shook her head slightly, touching her lip in unspoken signal. He immediately released his bottom lip from his teeth. Trying to hide the outward signs of his nervousness.
For a moment Blair got distracted surveying him. The physical had never been important with Nate, in fact they barely made out by the end, all that mattered was that he was nice, and polite, and looked good on her arm. Chuck had changed into an impeccably tailored suit since he left her room earlier in the evening. He got her blood pumping in his school uniform, but he was downright edible in a suit.
So much that the shy, well-hidden secret of her blushing teenage nipples tingled beneath her top, until they were rigid and beggingly hard. She desperately wanted to cover her chest so he couldn't see. Or cover his chest – with kisses.
Nate wore whatever he was told. Chuck got fashion. And that got her going.
When he did things like watch the path of his fingers as they reverently trailed down her arm, she pretended real hard she was just using him for sex. But that didn't explain the undeniable physical attraction swelling right now inside her. She was fully aware of his hungry gaze silently devouring her in return. She was mentally undressing him, already her hand was loosening his belt, eager to feel just a little lower, to have him back in the state he was an hour ago when she had him beneath her, rough and masculine and begging.
He was hot when he begged.
He was almost doing it now. Looking at her with those please fuck me eyes. It made her want to drag him upstairs and press into his burning body. What she wouldn't give to sit on top of him, slowly rocking back and forth in what could crassly be described as dry-humping, while those confident hands slid up her thighs.
Their parents interrupted the intense eye-fucking. A ginger ale for each of them was placed on the coffee table and twin looks of disgust were followed by bashful grins when they acknowledged the mirrored reactions. As if they were ever innocent enough to be content drinking ginger ale. Their parents conveniently chose to sit together on one lounge, sharing polite chitchat. Blair and Chuck were therefore pretending to be unaffected by each other when they took their place side-by-side on the chaise lounge.
Her hand twitched, eager to reach out that short distance and touch him. After all the leg of his pinstripe suit was inches away and they were never this close without actually being together anymore. The only thing keeping her from him was the propriety that had been instilled in her from birth. Because her hands wanted to run along silky hardness and her mouth wanted to taste and she certainly didn't want to keep herself from him.
At Eleanor's behest Bart turned to admire the newly refinished piano. That distraction gave them a few brief seconds. Chuck took the opportunity first and brushed his fingers over her lower back. She shivered helplessly, her body practically arching because his touch was laden with absolute promise that she already knew he could live up to.
The anticipation lit a fire in her belly only to be denied further kindling when he drew his fingers away. The smooth move went unnoticed by their parents.
Dear Lord, how was she going to survive through an entire dinner when all she wanted to do was undress him and feel him inside her?