Chuck held his face inches away, hovering while he glanced at the taxi driver, then back to her. As if a taxi driver of no consequence was going to keep him from her after the revelation he'd just had at their almost-dinner.
He liked Blair. He really liked Blair. And it turned out she really liked him.
"You were so hot up there, fighting with your mother," he cajoled, sliding his free hand onto her knee.
Were Arthur driving he'd cup her pert breasts because he could tell those babies were struggling to pop free of her shirt and his mouth was watering to take them. He could practically feel one of the hard little nubs between his teeth, rolling about gently in his trap while she breathlessly begged him for the decadent suckling she needed.
Instead they were in the back of a cab, and apparently that was out of bounds for making out. So her sweet breasts could perk themselves up and stay that way. He was going to tease her, without any satisfaction to end it.
Subtly he squeezed the other set of fingers he was still clasping. Then he slid his mouth back to the sweet spot under her ear where he knew she was vulnerable because he'd already spent hours studying her with his body.
He hoped she was thinking about when his cock lay between her thighs too. Those moments before they truly fit together and they just kissed teasingly.
Blair swallowed as his wicked tongue gently laved her, making her skin tingle with electricity that soon began to spark between them.
"You don't want to take this to your suite?" she wound her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer.
He watched her dark eyes blaze at him longingly and he almost gave in. Almost surrendered to the promise of her hands restraining his shoulders and her sweet thighs straddling his hips. Before he shook himself and remembered how spectacular her birthday night had been. And how he pictured them going even further tonight. Which meant he intended to last all night long and well into the morning.
"I want to be able to last beyond the first hour."
His hand slid onto her waist to pull her closer and his point was more than made.
"Fine," she gasped to the driver. "Daniel."
The drive to the restaurant was far too long and desperately lacking in privacy.
When he'd teased her earlier about being an accessory on Prince Theodore's arm, he hadn't quite had this ending in mind. Her, Blair, on his own arm.
He was very sure he didn't want to be a boyfriend. Because he didn't want to be the whipped pussy Nate was around Blair. What he did want was to be in a room full of their classmates, pull her into a corner, kiss her, and feel how eagerly she kissed him back. Revel in how hot their mouths were when they started making out. Have the freedom to put his hands on her whenever and wherever he damn well pleased – not between three and five thirty on weekdays in his limo or her apartment and nowhere else.
Walking into a restaurant sure to be full of Gossip Girl spies with Blair at his side felt like that day after Victrola all over again. Intense, somewhere between excitement and the physical sickness of food poisoning. He wasn't touching her – he didn't want to hold her hand or wrap his arm around her waist because those were things they did in private. Yet they were very close, he could feel her brushing against his sleeve every other step. When he held the door for her those incredibly dark, expressive eyes focused on him for longer than necessary and practically smouldered. He swallowed, watching her perfect ruby lips thank him.
He was so distracted, entranced, that before he could think he'd leaned over and kissed her. Blair gasped and her hands found his chest. He tensed, thinking she was going to push him away as she had earlier. Only to find her warm palms rested gently against his shirt and the heat permeated to his chest. Their previous secret encounters had never involved him restraining himself in any way. So he didn't even think to hold back. Despite being in public he just went with his instinct. Which was to slip his hands around her back and squeeze her into him.
Blair kissed him even harder, slid her tongue that still tasted like ginger ale over his bottom lip and made him moan.
"Mmm," Blair pulled away, smiling at him like a satisfied cat. "Sure you need to eat?"
He growled, leaned forward and nipped her retreating lips affectionately. Blair responded but he didn't let it become another kiss.
Instead he captured her hand and pulled her up by his side to the headwaiter.
"Two," he barely made eye contact as he handed over a hundred dollar bill to cover the lack of reservation. Hungrily caressing Blair's face with his gaze.
They followed the well-dressed manager to their table. Chuck made sure to pull Blair's chair out himself. Taking the opportunity to savour her intimately whispered "later tonight I'm going to punish you for making me wait," as she sat.
He smiled slowly. There was only one thing he enjoyed more than doing Blair. Blair doing him. In her bossy, take-charge, vindictive, creative way.
"I look forward to it. Will I need to find the key for the handcuffs?"
Blair's malevolent smile matched his own.
"Nothing so pedestrian."
They each took their menus and didn't pay an ounce of attention to the retreating adult who looked at the pair of impeccably clothed teenagers in shocked surprise.
"I'm intrigued Waldorf," Chuck accepted her challenge with an anticipatory glow in his eyes.
She was made for him. There was no other conclusion to be reached.
They both ordered mineral water, then Blair placed her hands flat on the table and leaned forward.
"I'll need to see your suit for Cotillion," she laid down the first rule.
"I don't wear silver," he warned right off the bat
He watched her pink nails dig into the pristine white tablecloth.
"You will match my dress," she corrected. "How do you know I'm wearing silver?"
"I've seen your dress hanging in your closet," he revealed. "And we can't go in there matching like twins," he flat out refused. "There's a difference between looking good together and looking good."
Fashion. Her weak point – just where he could get her to agree with him.
"Well then what are you wearing?" she asked snidely.
"Classic black," he immediately reported. "Tails. White gloves. All impeccably tailored of course."
Blair eyed him warily.
"You'll look fuck hot on my arm."
Her hand shot out over the table and grabbed his tie near the neck, pulling him forward threateningly.
"I am not an accessory. You are there to make me look good or I go with Nate."
He reached up to his neck and tried to pry her fingers free. While she wasn't choking him exactly, the air supply did feel a little constricted for his liking.
"Nate," he practically spat his best friend's name "is the accessory. You'll look like everyone else. Is that what you want? To be one of the many?"
He had her there. He knew he did. Her beautiful brown eyes quirked, threatened and he could tell she probably thought that was a fate worse than death. Not being the shining star. With Blair he knew he risked losing her to his best friend's siren call. Luckily he also knew a full-proof remedy for that and though he didn't like to use it, he would do anything to secure Blair on his arm.
"Serena is always happy to step in as belle of the ball."
Bingo. Her face briefly screwed up like she'd just tasted a lemon. A beat passed and then she confirmed "Classic black. With tails. Bowtie is –"
"Pristine white," he assured.
"Hmmm," her approval was clear though she didn't want to let him win this one.
Their waiter appeared to take orders while she mulled over that.
"When we're at the top of the staircase," his hand grabbed hers just as she released her glass. "You know how good we'll look together."
It felt like he was begging her and he hated that. But at the same time there was nothing he could do to stop himself.
"Nate's skin tone has always made me look washed out," she sweetly conceded.
She looked down pointedly to where he was twisting his fingers with hers. Next to Nate's tanned blondeness she tended to look like a sickly shut-in. Chuck's natural paleness complemented her unblemished features, made them look like Renaissance European Royalty, framed by dark waves of perfectly arranged hair.
He ran his thumb over the inside of her wrist, a sensitive pulse point that responded gloriously to attention. Proving that he knew her.
"You should see how washed out Eliza Barker will look beside him," Chuck smirked. "Of course no one will be looking at her. They'll be looking at you. And me."
Blair grinned, and he congratulated himself. He could chalk this one up as a win. As soon as Blair fell asleep tonight he was calling down to the front desk and reserving the honeymoon suite. He was already quietly making plans when he backtracked in his thoughts.
When Blair fell asleep. She was actually going to spend the night. And he was going to make it worth her while so when she woke in the morning, tucked up in his arms, she didn't regret a thing.