Chapter 4
"Mhm, that's it," he sighed, leaning back and closing his eyes as a head full of brown curls bobbed up and down in his lap. His fingers sank gently into her hair, stroking the soft strands as she gave him unimaginable pleasure.
After his release, she looked up at him and smiled, her red lips smudged and her doe eyes glazed. He studied her face, suddenly aware that she was no longer wearing her mask. He leaned in closer, in awe of the unmatched beauty in front of him. Reaching out, he cupped her face in his palm and whispered, "God, Blair, you're perfect."
Chuck sat up in bed with a start, drenched in a cold sweat. He raked his hands over his face in an effort to calm himself. Dreaming about the Princess Bride was nothing new, but this was the first time his mind had tried to replace her masked silhouette with a face. Worse yet, his subconscious didn't just give her any identity; it transformed her into his best friend's girlfriend.
Over the past week, he'd watched the exchanges between Nate and Blair, and he'd quickly surmised that they weren't the most well-matched couple. They were never in sync, and Nate seemed oblivious to Blair's desires. On the other hand, he was far too invested in Serena. Chuck remembered back to the day that Serena and Nate broke up the summer after their junior year. In the matter of a few days, Serena was already seeing some douche from Herman Mann, but Nate didn't hide his broken heart nearly as well as he thought he did. Chuck had always had an uncanny ability to read people, but it didn't take much effort to see the gleam in Nate's eyes whenever Serena was around.
Chuck found the whole situation annoying, and he kind of hoped that Blair would wake up and see what was happening right in front of her. He reminded himself that it was none of his concern, so he bit his tongue and minded his own business.
Shaking himself of those thoughts, he extracted himself from his bed and pulled on his swim trunks to head down to the pool where Nate was swimming laps around the perimeter.
"Hey, man," Nate greeted Chuck, pulling himself out of the water and drying off with a towel.
Chuck dropped onto one of the lounge chairs opposite Nate. "Where are the girls? The three of you have pretty much been a package deal lately." He didn't mean it to sound as snarky as it came out, but he was feeling a strange mixture of guilt and irritation. He missed having his friend to himself, and he didn't know what to make of his earlier dream.
"Oh," Nate looked around, "They went shopping…or something." He grinned mischievously before continuing, "Lily and Bart have headed back to the city for the weekend, so maybe we can kill a few hours together for old time's sake."
Chuck narrowed his eyes. "What are you saying?"
"It's been a while since we've smoked," Nate shrugged.
"It's 10:30 in the morning."
"So? Time doesn't exist here."
An hour later, Chuck was reclined back in the lounge chair, watching the clouds float slowly across the sky. He was notably calmer and less irritable, but the weed had done little to rid his thoughts of Blair and his dream. He couldn't reconcile why his mind had chosen Blair, of all girls, to represent the Princess Bride. He looked over at Nate, who took a long, slow drag on the joint before passing it back to Chuck. "What's on your mind?" he prodded his friend, hoping that Nate's shallow thoughts would be enough to diminish the noise in his head.
"You really want to know?" Nate's cheeks reddened, and he raised his glasses to rest on the top of his head. Chuck could just make out the redness outlining his enlarged pupils and the dopey look in his eyes.
"You're so high." Chuck rolled his eyes. "But, yeah, what's plaguing that one lone brain cell floating around in your head?"
A shameful look spread across Nate's face. "I shouldn't be thinking these thoughts."
"I know it hurts, Nathaniel," Chuck deadpanned, "But, if you aren't careful, that level of mental strain is going to give you wrinkles. Now either tell me what it is or shut up before you kill my buzz."
"I don't know, man," he sat forward, resting his elbows on his legs. "It's just that…Serena last night in that dress -"
"You've got to be shitting me?" Chuck huffed.
"Hey, I thought this was a judgment free zone."
"It is," Chuck exhaled, reaching for the joint, "But you're still an idiot."
"Look, Blair's great, but I…" he sighed in frustration. "I don't think she's really that into me."
Suddenly, Chuck felt more invested in the conversation. "What do you mean?"
"It's just that…" he trailed off. "We've been dating for a few months now, and every time things start to heat up, she backs off."
"Wait, you two haven't slept together yet?"
Nate sighed, "No, she sent me a text before our first night here, implying that she was ready, but every time we get to that point, she comes up with some lame excuse."
Chuck had to suppress a smirk at this newfound knowledge. He wasn't sure why he felt so much relief over the fact that they hadn't slept together yet, but he figured that it was some kind of karma for Nate's obsession with Blair's best friend. "Blair strikes me as the kind of girl who doesn't take sex lightly. Maybe she's just not ready."
"Maybe," Nate agreed, "But it's not like she's a virgin."
Something in Nate's tone gave Chuck pause. "How do you know? Have you two discussed her sexual history?"
Nate's nose snarled into a grimace at Chuck's invasive question, but he answered anyway. "Yes, we've talked about it. She used to be engaged to a prince. Apparently, she used to -"
"Slow down," Chuck held up his hand to stop Nate. "She used to be engaged to be married? What happened?"
"She still hasn't told me much, but I know the prick left her on her wedding day."
"What an asshole," Chuck mumbled. "Well, that explains it then."
"What?"
"That explains her hesitation to sleep with you, Nathaniel. She's been traumatized. You're likely her first relationship since her broken engagement. Give her some time."
"Yeah, you're probably right," Nate nodded, stubbing out the joint.
"Some friendly advice," Chuck arched an eyebrow. "Stop ogling Serena in front of your girlfriend."
"I don't ogle -" Nate defended.
"Please," Chuck rolled his eyes. "You're like one of those cartoons where the guy's eyes pop out of his head when he sees a pretty girl."
"Whatever." Nate shook his head. "I'm going down to the beach for a bit. You coming?"
"No, I'm going to relax here for a while. Try to hold onto as much of this high as I can for as long as I can."
XOXO
Some time later, his eyes opened to the blurred vision of a figure standing over him, speaking words that his mind was still too fuzzy to comprehend. He shielded his eyes from the sun, and, slowly, the silhouette of a slender brunette came into view.
"What are you yapping about?" he groused irritably.
"Are you high?" she snapped.
"Not anymore," he groaned, stretching his arms above his head as he sat up, blinking rapidly.
"I said," she enunciated, "Where's Nate?"
"I'm not his keeper."
She let out a long, frustrated huff. "I'm not kidding. He was supposed to meet me for lunch, and he never showed up."
"Shit." Chuck's face softened. "He's down at the beach. We smoked a bit. I didn't know he had plans with you."
Her face fell slightly before she corrected her countenance and crossed her arms over her chest. "Please, you've been itching to get me away from him since we got here."
"Sure," Chuck narrowed his eyes, "I've wanted to spend time with my friend without his girlfriend clinging to him, but I had no idea he was supposed to meet you. Apparently he didn't either." He took in her disdainful expression and added, "It's truly shocking that he wasn't counting down the minutes until he was supposed to meet you given your delightful personality."
He felt knots of guilt tie themselves together in his stomach at the slight drop in her shoulders and the brief shadows that crossed her eyes before she swallowed the hurt and sneered, "Shut up, Chuck. Just because you have to pay women to -"
"Hey, guys," Nate appeared beside Blair, water glistening off his biceps as he leaned in to give her a perfunctory kiss.
"Hey, sweetie," Blair forced a smile. "I thought you were meeting me at Alfresco for lunch?"
"Oh, crap," Nate shrugged. "I got caught up talking to Chuck and completely forgot. I'm sorry, Blair." He looked around the courtyard, a puzzled expression furrowing onto his brows. "Where's Serena? I figured you two ate together."
"She met some guy and decided to get a drink with him," Blair explained, missing the look of concern crossed Nate's face.
"That doesn't seem very safe," Nate observed.
"I think she knew him," Blair waved her hand dismissively before yanking her summer dress over her head to reveal a white bikini. "My back is killing from walking so much today. I'm going to hit the hot tub. Want to join me?" She batted her eyelashes at Nate.
"Um, actually…" he trailed off. "I'm going to…" He didn't even bother finishing his sentence as he ducked into the house.
She let out an exasperated sigh and made her way to the jacuzzi on the opposite side of the pool. Chuck tried to avert his gaze from zoning in on the defined curves of her slender frame, but it was no use. Once she sashayed away from him, his eyes were glued to her backside until she submersed herself in the water. Before he realized what he was doing, he slipped into the tub beside her, not caring whether she invited him to join her or not.
"What are you doing?" she griped, sinking further into the water until the jets bubbled around her sore muscles.
"Is my presence really that big of an imposition, Blair?" he asked her seriously, more curious than annoyed.
She sighed. "No, not really."
"I get it."
"Get what?"
"Whenever you're pissed at Nate, you take it out on me. You blame me for his shortcomings in your relationship instead of seeing it for what it is."
She snarled her nose at him. "What's that supposed to mean? I don't believe for one second that Nate would've missed lunch if it hadn't been for you."
"Bullshit," he gruffed. "You can't possibly be that dim."
"Ugh, why don't you just leave me alone, Chuck? My relationship with Nate is none of your business."
She arched her back to gather her hair into a ponytail. His eyes fell to her round breasts encased perfectly in the cups of her bikini top. He gulped, feeling his trunks tighten as arousal washed through him. "Fine," he rasped, willing his body to calm down so that he could exit the jacuzzi with some modicum of his dignity intact. As he pushed himself from the water, he stopped when he heard her yelp.
"What is it?" he asked.
"My necklace is tangled in my hair." She pulled at the clasp, wincing when it refused to disconnect from a curl. "Ow."
He lowered himself back into the water, and, scooting closer to her, he gently removed her hands from her necklace. "Stop, you're making it worse," he scolded her. "Let me see it."
"Careful," she warned. "This necklace is important to me. Don't break it."
"Just hold still," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. She shivered as his fingers ghosted over her neck, gently working the hair from the clasp. Her eyes closed for a few seconds, until she felt the clasp release, and he said, "There you go." His hand seemed reluctant to break contact, slowly skating down her back instead of immediately falling away.
She turned back toward him, gratitude reflecting in her eyes when he placed the necklace in the palm of her hand. "Thank you," she offered quietly.
"You're welcome." His eyes remained fixed to the necklace's delicate B charm for a moment, trying to place the familiarity of the piece of jewelry.
"I'm sorry, Chuck," she apologized earnestly.
He nodded in acknowledgment, lifting himself from the pool.
"Stay," she smiled. "Please."
"You're sure?" he asked.
"I really could use the company," she admitted. "I don't know why I was so rude to you earlier."
"I'm sorry, too," he returned. "I should've never implied that Nate doesn't want to spend time with you. That wasn't my place, and you're right – your relationship isn't any of my business."
She didn't respond because the thing that had hurt the most about Chuck's remarks about Nate not wanting to spend time with her was that she saw some truth in his words. Her insecurities over her relationship stemmed from two different sources: the overwhelming hunch that Nate was just passing time with her until he grew bored and the incessant fear that she was missing out on a greater love by wasting time with a man who wasn't her soulmate. In many ways, she worried that her failed engagement and her obsession with the Dark Knight led her to project her conflicting emotions onto Nate – effectively confusing admiration for romantic potential.
"Let's play a game," she suggested, brushing off her thoughts before they overwhelmed her mind. "I'm bored."
A small smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. "What kind of game?" He couldn't help flirting; getting a rise out of her and watching her nose crinkle when she tried to disguise her amusement as disgust was quickly becoming one of his favorite pastimes. "I've always enjoyed a good game of Truth or Dare."
Blair laughed out loud. "Good try, Bass, but I am not letting you to dare me to do anything."
"Hm," he sighed. "It was worth a shot."
"How about just Truth, but we make it a drinking game?" She motioned to the stocked minibar on the patio.
"Now you're thinking," he winked, pulling himself over the side of the tub. "What're you drinking?"
"Any Dom?"
"Of course." He returned with two champagne flutes and a bottle of vintage champagne in hand. After pouring each of them a serving, he lowered himself back into the jacuzzi. "Wait, how does one turn telling the truth into a drinking game?"
"We take turns asking each other questions. We have to tell the whole truth - even if it's personal or embarrassing. If either of us refuses to answer a question, we have to drink."
"I have a feeling that you're going to be drunk in about 15 minutes," Chuck goaded.
She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Oh, we're definitely going to need to set some ground rules."
"Like what?"
She pursed her lips together in thought. "You can't ask about my sex life."
"Oh, come on. What's the fun in that?" he scoffed. "Ninety percent of the questions I already have planned are about your sex life."
"What are the other ten percent about?" she asked curiously.
"Okay, you got me. One hundred percent of the questions I planned to ask are about your sex life."
"You're disgusting." She nudged him playfully on the shoulder with the palm of her hand. When she pulled away, he could've sworn that he felt the imprint of her hand seared into his skin.
"Well, I think limiting the types of questions we can ask defeats the point of making it into a drinking game. If we only ask innocent questions, then no one will be drinking."
"Fine," she smirked, drawing his eyes to her dimples. "But you can't ask about my sex life with Nate."
You mean your non-existent sex life with Nate, he amended silently. Instead of betraying Nate's trust, though, he simply nodded in agreement and said, "Ladies first."
"Hmm," she tapped her chin dramatically, "What's the weirdest dream you've ever had?"
"Ooh, thrilling start," he mocked her with a grin. His mind immediately shot to his earlier dream, and he almost groaned at the involuntary image of Blair's plump lips wrapped around his erection. Clearing his throat, he answered instead, "I dreamed once that my dad sliced my knees open with a boxcutter while I begged him to stop."
"Oh, my God," Blair grimaced. "That's so disturbing."
"Yeah, well, it's not that far-fetched if you know Bart," Chuck sneered. "My turn. Have you ever faked an orgasm?"
"Please," she scoffed. "What woman hasn't?"
"Certainly not any of my partners," he smarmed, winking when she snarled her nose and mouthed 'Ew.'
"Okay, Bass, have you ever slept with someone and immediately regretted it?"
He nodded. "This one is easy. I slept with this girl Georgina back in high school and regretted it before I even got out of the bed."
Blair's mouth formed a perfect circle before she let out an unladylike snort. "Tell me it wasn't Georgina Sparks."
Chuck's brows furrowed in confusion before a sheepish grin spread across his lips. "How'd you know?"
"Because she's crazy." Blair chortled, and Chuck couldn't help but laugh alongside her. "You must've been desperate to risk that level of psycho."
"I've never been desperate a day in my life."
"It's the only explanation for why you would sleep with Georgina."
"She…" he exhaled in an admission of defeat. "Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking. I paid for that one-time mistake for two months before she set her sights on some other unfortunate fool." His eyes shone brightly when he shifted the conversation back to her. "Okay, then, Waldorf, have you ever fantasized about someone else while in a relationship?"
Her eyes widened, and she paused. Did daydreaming about the Dark Knight while fooling around with Nate count? If she refused to drink, would Chuck read something into and tell Nate? With a huff, she raised her flute to her lips and took a generous sip.
"Hm," Chuck snickered, "I'll take that as an affirmation."
"Take it how you want," she crossed her arms over her chest, "It's just a really personal question."
"You're so stubborn," he said. "As if the last question you asked me wasn't personal. It's the whole point of the game."
She pouted at his factual statement, settling back further into the jets with her arms still crossed, casting a shadow between the valley of her breasts. His eyes caught sight of a water droplet trailing slowly down the column of her neck to disappear into the lines of her cleavage.
"I just didn't want to answer that question." He snapped his eyes back to her face as she continued, asking the next question that popped into her mind. "If you could re-experience any sexual encounter, what would it be?"
He raised his glass to his mouth, taking a long swig of champagne. Her face fell in disappointment because she was genuinely curious what sexual experience someone with his reputation would deem exceptional. After a second sip, he licked the remaining liquid from his lips and explained, "I need alcohol to answer this one."
"Ooh," she leaned closer to him, her body angled toward his, "I'm intrigued. Please continue."
"Last year, I slept with this woman – who may actually be the sexiest woman I've ever met – and the things that she did…" He inhaled slowly, his mind bombarded with images of his night with the Princess Bride. "I'd give anything to have another night with her."
Blair's heart thumped against her ribcage, and inexplicable jealousy seared through her veins. "She must be remarkable." Her voice came out low and sultry, a tone far too flirtatious for the topic at hand.
"I've never met anyone like her," he rasped, and somehow it suddenly felt like he was talking about the woman sitting across from him. "It was just a one-night stand, nothing serious, but there was just something about her."
"Why don't you call her?" she asked quietly.
"I don't even know her name."
"That's unfortunate," Blair whispered, unsure how to take the swell of emotions rising in her chest.
"Yeah," Chuck cleared his throat. "My turn. Same question."
"Uh-uh," she scowled. "That's cheating."
"No, it's not. There's no rule against recycling questions, and that one was a good one. I would love to know about a sexual encounter you'd like to repeat."
Blair took a sip from her champagne, a look of smugness darkening her eyes as she arched an eyebrow.
"Oh, come on," Chuck groaned. "I answered your question."
She adjusted the straps of her bikini top and carefully returned her flute to the side of the hot tub. "Fine," she relented, "My answer is much the same as yours. It was a one night stand about a year ago. Best sex of my life."
The images that those words conjured in his mind were certain to become fodder for his fantasies for weeks to come. "You don't strike me as the one-night-stand type."
"I'm not usually," she agreed, "But I'm sure Nate told you that I was engaged last year, and it ended poorly. This guy was my rebound, but…it felt…"
Chuck leaned closer, hanging onto every word, all rational thought abandoning him in favor of learning more about what makes Blair tick. "What did it feel like, Blair?" he husked.
"It felt like someone finally got me," she said quietly. "Like this random guy could read me better than the man I had been in a relationship with for three years. There was a connection that was so strong I could feel it in the way our bodies moved together. We were so in sync, and he was so talented – " She stopped abruptly, realizing what an incredibly intimate – and inappropriate – direction their conversation was headed.
"Go on," Chuck prompted, arousal pumping through him to the point that he could no longer make choices based on logic. He was desperate to hear Blair's description of the 'best sex' of her life.
She swallowed hard, extracting herself from the pool to wrap a large beach towel around herself. "I think that's enough for tonight, Bass. I'm going to get ready for dinner."
Before he could even respond, she scurried into the house, not daring to glance back in his direction.
Shit, he cursed himself for allowing their conversation to veer into such dangerous territory. Whenever he was alone with Blair - which had only happened a handful of times - he would stupidly forget that she was his best friend's girlfriend. Still, he'd managed to keep his innuendos and flirty tendencies under control for the most part. That is, until tonight, when he'd crossed a line that should've been a barricade. He was thankful that she'd ended the game when she had because if their conversation had breached the line of impropriety, his next question would've garnered him the title of worst friend in history.
He raked his hand down his face and stepped out of the hot tub, adjusting his swim trunks to erase any evidence of his earlier state of arousal. Leaning down, he picked up the bottle of Dom and the glasses when something caught his eye. A tiny silver chain sparkled beneath the patio lights. He let out a sardonic laugh when he realized that Blair had left her necklace behind in her frenzy to get away from him. He picked up the necklace, and a sudden memory flashed through his mind.
He grazed the dainty charm on her necklace with his index finger. "The letter 'B' means something to you – presumably a first or last initial."
It wasn't possible. It had to be a coincidence. Surely there were plenty of women donning the same expensive pendant walking around New York City.
"Do you trust easily?"
She let out a dry chuckle. "I'm sitting here in a wedding dress, jilted by a cheating groom."
Chuck leaned into her ear, "I can make you forget he ever existed. Be wicked with me tonight."
But how many of the women wearing that same 'B' pendant had an ex-fiancé who left them at the alter?
Shit.
Blair Waldorf was the Princess Bride – and he was royally fucked.
A/N: Hi, there. Remember me? It's been a while, I know. Life has been so busy. I've been out of town almost every weekend since the beginning of June, and things won't settle down until January. I haven't felt super motivated to write for a while now, but, after watching a couple of Chair videos on YouTube and getting some kind reviews on a few of my WIPs, inspiration struck. I don't know how often I will update, but just know that I still have hope that I will at least one day finish my WIPs. Much love to all of you who've stuck with me this long.
