Blair lay against Chuck's chest, feeling his heartbeat and listening to him breathe. He was clearly dead to the world, but her mind wouldn't let her do the same. She carefully eased herself up to look down on him.
God, he was beautiful.
The city lights flooded in from the bedroom window, and clearly outlined his features before her. Emotions swelled within her with how much she wanted to be here, with him, and how right it felt to be with him. Her mind rioted with these feelings, and she pushed them down and away, and focused on another emotion, letting it take centre stage, because it was something she could easily deal with.
Hunger. And not the kind of hunger he, or she, liked. Blair rubbed her empty stomach. She hadn't eaten since lunch.
This time when she tried to slip out of the bed, she was successful, but this time she didn't have any intention of leaving the penthouse. Maybe his unconscious knew this, and it's why she was able to get up so easily, or maybe she had wanted to stop her earlier. Whatever the reason, she padded, naked, across the room and smiled as she picked up his discarded dress shirt and slipped it on. She caught sight of herself in the mirror on the wall, and shook her head. She'd never been the type to wear a boyfriend's clothes.
Back in High School she'd always wanted to look perfect, to be perfect, especially in front of Nate, so she's always made sure to have cute slips and lingerie sets whenever she spent the night with him. With Dan? He was a T-shirt and flannel guy, which had never appealed to her, so she'd never felt the urge to put anything of his on.
But she felt sexy wearing nothing but Chuck's shirt.
She didn't even mind that her hair was a tussled mess, and most of her make up was a memory. The sparkle in her eyes and the seemingly added glow to her skin... really set off the shirt.
In bare feet, Blair slipped out of the bedroom and quietly shut the door behind her. While the bedroom had been fairly dark, several of the lamps in the living room were still on, and with Chuck playing Sleeping Beauty at the moment, Blair was able to really look at the room to her heart's content.
While the room was clearly well designed, and whoever the interior designer had been had kept it befitting the man who lived here, it was rather sterile. It seemed less a home and more the hotel it was located in. However, she found a few personal touches.
On the bookcase she found a trio of frames, and she took her time looking at the pictures in each one. The first was of a young-looking Chuck, Serena, and someone who Blair assumed was their younger brother, Eric. They were sitting in what appeared to be a courtyard, and Blair guessed it was their High School given that they were all in school uniforms.
The second was a wedding photo of Bart Bass and Lily Van Der Woodsen.
The last was of a dark haired woman that Blair instantly knew was his mother, because she could see so much of the woman in Chuck's dark looks. Having Googled Chuck, she knew his mother had died in childbirth, and she felt her heart clench for him. As she lingered over the picture for a moment, she knew, seeing how it was set with his present family, he loved her still.
She set it down carefully, and stepped back from the shelves. Leaving the living room, she searched out and found the small yet modern kitchen tucked away behind a wall. She turned on the light and padded over to the fridge, and she shivered as she opened the door and the cool air hit her exposed skin.
She stood back with a scowl a moment later as she surveyed the contents. Her stomach grumbled.
"Sports drinks and bottled water?" She derided. "I'm going to die of starvation."
"Well, we can't have that..."
She spun around to see Chuck leaning against a counter near the entrance to the kitchen. He was wearing a black silk robe, and (she could tell) nothing else. She swallowed hard.
"Chuck! You startled me!" She gasped.
"To be fair... If I were you, I'd have gone after my safe, not my fridge..." He smirked as he sauntered forward.
"I don't care about your safe." She said simply.
He smiled, because he knew she wasn't interested in his money.
"I know all you bank account numbers. Why go for the few thousand in your safe, when I can clean out several million from any one of your offshore accounts?" She smiled innocently at him, twirling a lock of her hair around her index finger.
Nice, he thought with a raised brow. "Well, that one worry will keep me up at night. Now, since you seem displeased with the contents of my fridge... I imagine it's hunger keeping you up tonight?" He padded closer to her.
"You've always struck me as a person who would make an impeccable host."
"Yes...?" He was close enough to smell the lingering scent of himself on her skin.
"Well, given that I haven't eaten since lunch, and over the past few hours I have engaged in rather vigorous activity..." She said in a husky voice
He didn't speak. His smirk said it all.
"Chuck, I'm hungry." She pouted.
"Still?" He deliberately misunderstood her.
She hit his chest, and he loved it. "Chuck!"
"Easy. I'm not as tough as I look." He pretended to be put out, but he'd caught her offending hand and now held it against his chest.
"And by that you mean not tough at all." She teased.
"You'd think you'd be nicer to the person capable of satiating your hungers..."
She bit her lip for a moment as the timber of his voice sank into her bones. Then she hit him again.
"Enough chit-chat! Food! Now! Or... any hungers you may have in the near future... will not be taken care of by me."
Half an hour later, they sat on his couch with half of the room service menu spread out around them. A comfortable silence flowed between them; the only actual sound in the room was that of cutlery slicing across the plates. However the looks that passed between them spoke volumes. Each look tended to send a jolt to the other's groin, so that was fun.
"Talk to me..." And it was a whisper that spoke volumes.
"I like your couch, but your designer should have had it done in orange." She cut a bite of chicken for her fork.
He looked at her as if she was delusional.
"One, I like purple, and two... That's not the topic I had in mind." He said carefully.
"What would you prefer? Syria? Paris vs. New York? Dior's Spring line?" She said lightly, before delicately biting the food off the end of her fork.
"So... You're just going to... pretend?" He looked at her incredulously. "You're going to be here with me when you have a-"
"I'm going to live my life as if I'm me and you're you, and there's no impingements." She cut him off. "I don't see any reason for this week to be conducted in any other way."
"So that's it?"
"Well... On one ship, there's guilt... hurt... anger... and messy adultery. And on the other ship is the best sex of either of our lives. I know what ship I'm on. Do you?" She chirped as she offered him a fork full of pasta.
Chuck frowned, but bit the food off her fork as he chewed on what she was suggesting.
It was not the most unflawed plan Chuck had ever heard. He could see many holes, but he could also see what she did: That this week could be about them. Only them.
Since she was going to live in a dream world this week, Chuck decided he wanted to live there too. He'd figure the rest out later.
"You stole my shirt." He said, sitting back to let his eyes eat her up. "It doesn't look half bad on you..."
"I can see that." She said coolly as she cast a pointed glance down at his tented crotch. The corner of his mouth quirked up, because, while she was trying to be so prim, he could catch the flirty hint in her eyes.
He cleared his throat and spoke briskly. "I may have to take it back."
"You can't..." She pouted, her hand coming up to lie over the half undone buttons. "I'm cold."
"I can fix that." He growled and lunged towards her.
Blair squealed but managed to jump off the couch and out of his grasp. She quickly put the coffee table between them.
"Now, Chuck... finders keepers... Losers weepers..." She half sang. She was out of key and pitchy, but he even thought that was sexy.
Then he jumped over the coffee table. Laughter peeled out of her as she tried to run away, but he caught a fistful of his shirt, and it tore all the buttons as she twirled to get free. They were both panting and sweaty as each of their gazes seared the other's.
Blair raced for the bedroom. Chuck was right behind her.
On Monday morning she woke up, alone, in his bed. Confused, and more than just a little disgruntled, she sat up with a bounce. Pushing her hair out of her face, she looked around, and a slow smile curved her lips as she saw the bowed box laid out beside her on the bed.
Loving presents, especially expensive ones, she got quickly to her knees to open it. She sat back with a gasp as she looked at the exquisite Chanel suit amongst the tissue paper.
After she lifted up the clothes, she found a very high end set of dark green lace lingerie beneath it. The suit was for her, but what was underneath was clearly for him.
And hour later she sauntered across his office floor. He didn't look up from his reports, but instead snapped at her.
"You're late." His voice was cold, but he could see the fire in his eyes as his gaze met hers briefly. He wanted to play, she smirked, which was perfect, because so did she. He commanded her, "Shut the door."
"I'm so sorry, sir." She whispered meekly as she shut his office door, flipping the lock too. "I broke a heel... There was a delay on the train... And then my grandmother died..."
"Again?" He raised a brow, acting as if a dead grandmother was an excuse she'd used before.
She bit her lip and looked contrite as she approached him. Her hand reached out and tentatively touched his shoulder. He grabbed her hand, and pulled her closer, caught her hips and hoisted her onto his desk. She squealed at the suddenness of the action. He placed a hand on either side of her hips, just barley touching her sides as he did so. "You're going to have to make up that time..."
"Whatever it takes..." She said shakily, and she couldn't take her eyes off his lips.
Chuck's voice dropped, and Blair felt heat pool in her lower belly. "For weeks...I've had these... fantasies... about having you here, in my office... on my desk..." As he spoke he ran his hands slowly up and down the desk, his thumbs grazing the skin of her hips, her upper thighs, and knees as he did so.
"I think that could be... arranged." She got out before her hand caught the back of his head, and pulled his mouth to hers.
He stood, pushing himself more fully between her legs. He deepened the kiss, but she pulled back, and he frowned at her.
"Don't make me dock your pay..."
She smiled at him coyly. "I just wanted to say... remind me to tell you about a little fantasy of my own I've been having..."
"Later." He said as his hands started pushing up her skirt.
Her throaty laughter filled the room, and it was almost as sexy as the lingerie set he was rapidly uncovering.
The next few days passed the same way; they couldn't get enough of each other. Blair picked up a few of her things so she could stay in Manhattan, and they spent almost every moment of their time together. They were careful to be discrete at the office, but even then all they wanted was each other.
Blair didn't want to think about how this was, without a doubt, one of the best weeks of her life, and she definitely didn't want to think about how it had an expiry date attached to it.
Chuck couldn't believe how he felt when he was around her. She made him happy. It was a new feeling for him.
Friday came all too soon.
Sensing her in the doorway, Chuck looked up with a smile. If fell when he saw how straight and still she was as she stood there.
"Da-" Her throat caught, and she took a second to clear it before going on. She didn't look him directly in the eye, but she didn't look away either. Her gaze seemed to focus somewhere above Chuck's left ear. "My husband just phoned. He's back from Florida, and it would appear that his sister's wedding is still on for tomorrow..."
"I see." Was all Chuck said as he sat, still as stone, at his desk. The desk they'd had sex on just a few days earlier.
"Given the family event, I was hoping to leave early today." She said, coolly, professionally.
"Of course." His eyes focused on her face, trying to read it but getting nothing, so he gave nothing back. "Take the rest of the day."
"Thank you." She said with no emotion. "Have a nice weekend, Mr. Bass."
"Same to you, Mrs. Humphrey."
Chuck stood and walked to his personal bar, pouring himself a scotch as he listened to her collect her things and her heels clack across the floors. He stood, silently, as he listened to her go back to her husband.
Alone, he tossed back his drink in one gulp, and then hurled the glass against the wall.
Down on the sidewalk, Blair hailed a cab. It was as she stumbled in that she realized her face was wet. When had she started crying?
A/N: I just wanted to thank you all for the wonderful response to this story. I'm sorry that this chapter took a little longer than they have of late. Big thanks to Moonflower26 who pretty much summed it up perfect. I'll try to keep it no longer than a month wait, but sometimes life gets out of my hands. Hope you enjoy this chapter, and that it was worth the wait. Again, I'm so touched that you guys like this story.