Chasing Love (Dark Love 1)

“Would you like a tour? Though, I’m warning you, it’ll take zero-point-two seconds.”

“Yes, but first…” He takes the bottle from my hand, placing it on the coffee table. Sliding his hands around my back, he pulls me in, bringing his hand back up to my chin. With a qui

ckening breath, he drags my face to be closer to his, so close I can almost taste him. Tilting my head slightly, I painfully wait for him to kiss me. Our breaths mingling together in such an intimate space, heighten our desperate need to kiss.

I wrap my hands around the back of his neck, coercing him to kiss me deeply. Our lips touch, barely, and with lust driving our bodies, I press harder against his mouth, releasing the long-awaited moan which has built up inside of me.

Julian instantly reacts, tightening his grip on my ass as his body presses against mine. My mind, shallow in its thoughts, immediately notices his rock hard cock pressing between us.

Pulling away, I attempt to catch my breath. “Did you still want the tour?”

“Yes,” he murmurs, placing his lips on mine again. “Lead the way, Miss Mason.”

Coco purrs on the couch, desperate for attention.

“This is Coco.”

“A ragdoll?” He gently pats Coco’s fur and, of course, she’s lapping up all the attention. “We had one growing up.”

I grab the bottle of wine and his hand as well, then show him the two bedrooms, bathroom, the kitchen and dining area at a quick pace. The apartment, purchased twelve months ago, is a true testament to my hard work over the last few years. I love Manhattan and don’t expect to move anywhere else anytime soon.

“It’s a beautiful place you’ve made for yourself,” he compliments before his eyes gravitate toward the countertop where I have attempted to make tamales. “This all smells delicious.”

“If there’s one thing my mom taught me well, it’s this. Shall we eat?”

We sit at the small dining table inside the cozy kitchen. A candle is burning between us—some romantic scent Eric gave me to bring love into my life. He’s a believer of all things kooky, strikingly similar to my mom who believes in spirits, the universe, and stars aligning if you’re lucky enough.

We speak about work, mainly Julian and his passion for journalism. He’s a very cultured man, having traveled to the remotest of countries to maintain the integrity of the pieces he writes. I love the fire in his soul when he speaks with such conviction. I could listen to him for hours, and rarely, has anyone captured my attention in this way.

“I love how passionate you are. You’re a rare breed, Mr. Baker.”

“I could say the same for you.” He grins, lifting the glass toward his lips as he finishes the remnants of his wine. “You graduated from Yale, own a business, can cook mean tamales, and…”

He pauses, parting his lips while staring into my eyes.

Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on the table, inching closer to him while we kiss gently.

Pulling back, only just, I croon, “And?”

“Your kiss makes me want to strip you down to nothing right here, right now.”

I can feel my heart beat every single pound in my chest. Biting the corner of my lip, I stare into his eyes.

How can it be, a man so beautiful and pure, is single in a city where millions of women roam the streets looking for someone as perfect as him?

And he’s here, with me.

I don’t want to take any more chances, and throwing every single bit of caution that I’ve held onto for the last eight years, I throw it all out the window in a split second.

My hands move toward his collar, guiding him back to me for a passionate kiss. Our tongues battle feverishly, moans escaping in tiny breaths as we juggle to stand. Julian lifts me, prompting my legs to wrap around his waist. Our kisses continue as he walks us down the hall and toward my bedroom.

With the light off, yet the glow from the living area illuminating our faces enough to see, he places me on the bed and hovers above me.

The weight of his desire is staring back at me in an intense gaze.

There’s a magnetic force between us, one pulling me so fast that I’m unable to stop and think. Everything I can have possibly imagined in a man who can please my unconventional world is standing over me unbuttoning his shirt. Bare-chested, with a shirt thrown carelessly to the ground, I admire the most perfectly sculpted chest before me. Unable to control my urges, my hand grates his abs, stopping just shy of his belt buckle.

“Do you know how beautiful you look beneath me, gorgeous?”