The Alpha’s Chase: A Howls Romance Read online

  She laughed, and for the first time in over a month she felt a real smile slide across her slips. “Deal.” She inhaled again, relaxing at his totally human scent. His totally delicious, sexy, masculine scent.

  “Another glass of wine, then?” Chase asked but held off motioning for the bartender until she answered.

  Cecily glanced at the wall of top-shelf liquor below the speakeasy-style mirror at the back of the bar. “No. I feel like cutting loose. How about a shot of Patrón each?”

  Chase laughed. “Okay then.” He nodded toward the bartender. “You heard the lady, Moe. Two shots of Patrón and leave the bottle. Grab a few lemons and a salt shaker while you’re at it.”

  She met Chase’s laugh. “And make them doubles!”

  “From wine to tequila.” He eyed her. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Chase’s eyes never left hers as the bartender poured the first two doubles with a grin. He left the bottle as instructed.

  Chase lifted his shot glass and held it between him and Cecily. “Cheers,” he murmured.

  “Cheers,” she repeated, touching her glass to his before downing the tequila. Wincing, the strong drink burned its way down her throat, and she blew out a quick breath. “Whoo! How about another?”

  She put the shot glass on the bar with a muffled bang and crooked her finger toward the bartender. Without waiting for Chase, she shot the next one back and coughed, reaching for a paper napkin.

  “Easy, killer.” He laughed, downing his shot. “Want to switch back to Pinot Noir?”

  She shook her head. “Not a chance. Tonight is all about choices, and I choose tequila and you.” She sucked in a breath and the rush sent a flush her to her cheeks from the liquor. A light, floaty feeling tingled across her head and she licked her lips. “I like you, Chase. I like how you look and how you handled Jackson, and has anyone told you how amazing you smell?” She swallowed, shocked she’d uttered the words out loud.

  He laughed. “Okay, I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume you didn’t eat dinner, because the tequila is hitting you a hell of a lot faster than it should.”

  Cecily lifted her chin, going with it regardless. “I am not drunk. Tipsy, yes. But not drunk.”

  He angled his head at her. “Not yet, anyway. And I’m right about the no dinner, yes?”

  “Not a bite.” Giving him a sexy nod, she let a grin slip across her lips. “Though I’d like to sink my teeth into you.” Her inner cat purred, and she scooted closer on her stool. She angled her head opposite to his, lifting her hand to his cheek. “If you kissed me right now, I wouldn’t stop you.”

  Chase pulled her hand from his face but kept it in his. “I’d love to kiss you, Cecily. You’re beautiful and just my type, but I have rules about drunken sex so, raincheck?”

  She waggled her finger at him. “You are so not like other guys. Especially Jackson. He’d take advantage of me drunk or sober, especially if he could hold something over me and use it to steal my inheritance. That’s what he was trying to do when you got involved.”

  “Then he’s stupid,” Chase replied.

  Cecily shook her head, tapping her temple. “No, he’s smart and cunning, and now I have to find someone to marry me or he could get everything, thanks to a stupid statute in my father’s will.”

  Chase frowned, confused. “Are you telling me you have to get married in order to inherit?”

  She nodded, burping again. “Yes. Thanks to daddy dearest.”

  He looked at her and when she reached for another shot, he stopped her. “I think you’ve had more than enough tonight, Cecily, and I really think you shouldn’t be talking about this to just anyone. Jackson isn’t the only one who’d try to take advantage of you. Trust me, I know.”

  She blinked at him. “Did someone force you to get married, too? And I thought it was just puffed up shifter alpha-daddy assholes.”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “No. This bar belonged to my father. Ten years ago, I nearly lost everything, including this place, to a single hand of cards, but someone stepped in just short of my slamming the deed onto the poker table. I owe everything to that stranger.”

  “A stranger stopped you from losing your birthright?” she asked with a hiccup. “What did they say that made you decide to listen to them?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I had an angel looking over my shoulder that night.”

  She mused at that. Chase was certainly gorgeous enough to be divine. “Is that why you stepped in with Jackson?” Cecily looked at him for an answer. “I mean, you didn’t have to help.”

  He shrugged, offering a noncommittal nod. “Maybe, but what kind of a man would I be if I didn’t step in and help? I can’t stomach men who bully women.”

  “Thank you—” Cecily’s eyes went wide halfway through her sentence and her hand flew to her mouth. “I…I…I’m gonna to be sick!”

  She stumbled off the barstool and lurched toward the restroom, Chase quick on her heels. Cecily banged open one of the stall doors, barely making it to the toilet.

  “I got you,” Chase said, gathering her hair as she heaved into the white porcelain. He rubbed her back. “Well, for a night of choices, I bet this wasn’t on your bucket list.”

  Her shoulders tensed and slumped between retches. “You think?” Another wave took her and when there was nothing left but dry heaves, she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, looking at him across her shoulder. “Looks like tonight you’re my over-the-shoulder angel,” she mumbled.

  Chase held her elbow as she stood, holding out a wad of toilet tissue. “It’s okay, Cecily. You’re not the first person in here to hug the porcelain, and I doubt you’ll be the last. I could tell you stories that would make this seem like nothing.”

  She wiped her mouth on the tissue. “Do you always give drunken customers the personal touch?”

  He laughed. “Not usually. Just the ones I’d like to get to know better.”

  Embarrassed heat flushed across her cheeks and she inhaled. “Yeah, because nothing says ooh baby, break me off a piece of that like the sight of a woman with puke at the corner of her mouth.”

  Chase chuckled again. “I’m a bar owner, Cecily. I see past all that to what’s hiding behind the puke, and I don’t mean what they had for dinner.”

  She laughed, despite herself. “Nice to know chivalry isn’t completely dead. If I didn’t stink to high heaven, I’d give you a hug, but unlike you I can’t get past the fact you held my hair while I threw up.” She scrunched up her nose. “I can’t believe I threw up. Thank god it wasn’t on you.”

  “You’ve got beautiful hair and the thought of it swirling the toilet while you vomit was not an option.” He grinned as she teetered toward the sink to rinse her mouth.

  She gathered the thick, dark mass at the nape of her neck and leaned toward the running tap to rinse her mouth. With a grimace, she dried her mouth on her hand. “God, I can only imagine what you must think of me.”

  Chase moved behind her at the double sink and looked at her in the mirror’s reflection. “You had reasons to drown your frustrations tonight.”

  Cecily shut the tap off and sucked in a steadying breath. “Still—”

  He shook his head and reached for a couple of paper towels from the metal shelf above the backsplash. “Everyone deals with disappointment differently. My guess is it’s not like you to do this type of thing.” He winked, handing her the paper towels. “Right?”

  She gave him a half-hearted smile. “I suppose not. To be honest, I don’t usually drink.”

  He angled his head. “And yet tequila shots were your first choice.” He flashed a quick smirk. “Did you have a death wish?”

  She snorted. “No. Although right now I would kill for the room to stop spinning.”

  “I should get you a cab home.”

  Cecily shook her head, swallowing against another wave of nausea. “Home is too far for that, I’m afraid. I took the train into South Station from New York this morning. I
planned to check into a hotel after meeting with my father’s attorney.” She shrugged. “As you can see, that didn’t happen.”

  He smiled, stepping back, giving her space. “I’m guessing you didn’t make a reservation ahead of time either, huh?”

  She squinted at her watch. “I guess I could call around, though if I were a hotel clerk, I wouldn’t give a room to someone who walked in off the street smelling of tequila and vomit.”

  Chase looked at her. “You could crash on my couch.” He pointed toward the ceiling. “I have an apartment above the bar. It’s not huge, but it’s comfortable and clean. Besides, I’m not exactly okay with putting you in a cab alone when you’re—”

  “Drunk?” She frowned, interrupting him.

  “I was going to say vulnerable.”

  She smiled at that. “I’m stronger than I seem, Chase. I’m sure I can call a cab and get myself to a hotel, or I could call my father’s attorney and wake him up.” She frowned again. “But that means I’d have to listen to him lecture me, and to be honest, I’m not in the mood.”

  “If you stay with me, then we can talk more. No lectures, I promise. If working behind a bar has taught me anything, it’s opening up to a complete stranger can be cathartic, and since I already held your hair while you puked—”

  Cecily winced, lifting a hand before he argued the point more. “Ugh. Stop reminding me.” Looking past him, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and frowned at her wrecked hair and smeared makeup, not to mention her shirt dotted with splashes from the porcelain god. Chase, on the other hand, looked amazing. Too good to be true, yet there he stood.

  “You have nothing to worry about from me, Cecily.” He put his hands up. “Hands off. I promise.”

  It wasn’t his self-control she was worried about. It was hers. With the way he looked and how cool he’d been all night, she didn’t trust herself alone with him in his apartment. She’d be lucky if she didn’t jump his bones first chance she got, crawling on all fours like her inner cat wanted. Then again, he was the one who said she had killer curves.

  Throwing caution to the wind for the first time in her life, her eyes met his and she straightened her shoulders. “Do you have a tee shirt I can sleep in?”

  He nodded with a laugh. “I even have an extra toothbrush.”

  5

  Cecily cracked open one eye and winced at the light creeping in from the windows. A dull headache pounded across her forehead and it was all she could do not to tear off the top of her head and massage her brain. Fucking Patrón. So much for shifters holding their alcohol. Yeah, right. Not tequila, anyway.

  She exhaled and lifted her arm to grab the pillow and bury her face when she caught sight of the Red Sox logo emblazoned on the tee shirt contouring her braless breasts. She looked around, disoriented, until the night flooded back.

  This was his couch.

  …and his tee shirt.

  Cecily buried her eyes in both palms and exhaled, while her father’s voice echoed at the back of her mind. “Smooth move, Ace. Like you don’t have enough to deal with.”

  She shook her head, letting her hands drop to the throw blanket on her lap. With a grimace, she shifted her legs to the edge of the couch, the realization she was naked everywhere else except for Chase’s tee shirt making her blush from head to toe. What the hell else did she do last night?

  Scowling, she ignored the scenarios running through her head, from hot nasty monkey sex to signing her life away. She didn’t know what was worse, her hangover or the fact she went home with Chase and couldn’t remember if she’d had the best sex of her life or not.

  If they didn’t have sex, then where the hell were her clothes? And why was she alone on the couch?

  “Good morning.” Chase’s voice sounded from behind. “How’d you sleep?”

  Cecily winced. “Ugh. Do you have to yell?” Her chin hit her chest as sharp throbs pounded from behind her eyes.

  He chuckled. “That bad, huh?”

  “Not funny, Chase.”

  “I bet.” He walked around the edge of the couch with two steaming mugs in his hand. “Drink this. Trust me, you’ll feel better.”

  Cecily took the mug and sniffed, jerking her face back. “Eew, no. What’s in it?”

  He slid onto the end of the coffee table. “It’s a secret family recipe for hangovers. Don’t ask or you’ll be hugging the toilet again. Just drink it.”

  She sniffed the mug again and then looked at him. “What about you?”

  “I’m not the one who got loaded, remember? Though meeting you made for quite an interesting night.” He lifted the mug to his lips and smirked.”

  Her eyes flew to his. “Interesting? How? Why?”

  Chase’s lips pushed into a smirk. “You really don’t remember?”

  Cecily frowned, but wasn’t about to admit anything, nor would she pussy out on his home hangover remedy. Raising the mug to her mouth, she took a sip and immediately spit it out. “Oh my God! You have got to be kidding!”

  He laughed. “I’m not. It’s got a strong flavor, I’ll give you that. It’s the freshly ground ginger, among other things, but it works like a charm.” He nodded again, slipping two fingers under the mug to lift it to her lips. “Down the hatch, Tequila Rose.”

  Not happy, she shoved his hand away and downed the awful liquid in one shot. She slammed the mug on the coffee table, her eyes watering as she coughed. “Battery acid would have gone down easier,” she choked out.

  “Probably.” With a wink, he took the empty cup and walked to the small kitchen on the opposite side of the large room. “It usually makes people throw up, but you did enough of that last night.”

  “Now that I remember.” She settled against the arm of the couch, leaning back just enough to rest, but propped up enough to watch him putter around the kitchen. His back was to her as he buttered toast and put it with some cut up fruit on a tray. “Uhm, is there anything else I should know?”

  “Like what?” He turned with a wink, but then jumped back. “Damn it!” Grabbing a dishtowel, he scrubbed at his tee shirt before dragging it over his head with an aggravated huff.

  Cecily’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of him shirtless. A flat, muscled chest with arms jacked and cut to the point he looked sculpted from marble, Chase was breathtaking. His drawstring bottoms dipped just low enough on his hips for her to see that sexy V and her imagination took off at what lay just below. Her hand slid to her belly and she fisted the loner tee shirt to quell the butterflies in her stomach. If this was part of what she missed last night, then she wanted a play-by-play instant replay.

  “Uhm, you okay?” she croaked, trying not to sound too obvious as she ogled him from across the room.

  He frowned, wiping his chest with his tee, and the motion made her mouth go dry.

  “Yeah,” he replied. “I tried to make you fresh orange juice and the juicer malfunctioned. It squirted all over my shirt. I’m a wet, sticky mess.”

  God help me.

  “Me, too,” she muttered and closed her eyes at the wet feel between her thighs.

  “Did you say something?” he asked, not really listening.

  “Nope. Didn’t say a word.”

  She’d been self-satisfying for almost a year since she broke up with her last boyfriend. Not that he was any great loss. Still, bad sex was better than no sex, and Chase was close enough to touch. She snapped her eyes open, forcing herself to get a grip.

  “So, how’s your head?” he asked, tossing his stained tee into the sink before picking up the tray and carrying it into the living room.

  “Okay, I guess,” she replied, pressing her fingers into her temples.

  He smiled, placing the tray to one side of the coffee table and sliding back onto his perch. “Good. If there’s anything else I can do to help you feel better, just ask.”

  She nearly choked on her tongue. “Uhm, where are my clothes?”

  “In the dryer.” He chuckled, handing her a mug of coffee
. “I’m afraid more than just your shirt got caught in the barf crossfire.”

  She took the mug from him and his hand lingered for a moment, his thumb running across hers. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed, Cecily. I was happy to help. It was the least I could do.”

  “Did we sleep together?” The blurt came out blunter than she meant, but she had to know.

  Now it was his turn to nearly choke. “What makes you think that?”

  Cecily exhaled. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I’m naked under your Red Sox tee shirt and can’t seem to remember a goddamned thing besides repainting the inside of your toilet with tequila.”

  His face sobered and his eyes met hers and locked. “I told you last night, not that you remember, but there are rules about drunken sex.” He lifted one hand before she could argue the point. “I know it sounds unlikely, but there are a few of us left in this world.”

  “Us?” she questioned.

  “Gentlemen. If you think I didn’t want to take you up on your many, many offers, you’re wrong. Hell, you passed out on my couch. If I was any other kind of guy, I could have violated you ten different ways, but I didn’t. To me, that qualifies as a kissing cousin to rape. Yes, I’m the one who stripped your puke-covered clothes and threw them in the wash. I also helped you brush your teeth and your hair and put you in my favorite tee shirt.”

  His tone was insulted, and guilt slashed at her immediately. “I’m sorry, Chase. I’ve never met a man like you. You’re a puzzle.”

  With a shrug, he picked up a piece of toast and crunched into it, chewing. “I’m not that hard to understand, Cecily. I’m actually pretty ordinary.”

  She exhaled a quick huff before sipping her coffee. “There is nothing ordinary about you.”

  His scowl faded, and he gave her a quick smile. “I could say the same about you, shifter-girl. I’ve only met a handful of the dual-natured, but none like you. I thought shifters could handle their liquor.” He winked.

  “I’m serious, Chase. Have you looked in the mirror? Besides how good-looking you are, you have got to be one of the most genuine men I have ever met.”