Chasing Beautiful (Chasing Series #1) Read online

  Her skirt was twisted to the other side and not properly fixed, her lips—red and swollen from our lovemaking, her hair disheveled and those beautiful crystal green/gold eyes flashed at me, immobilizing me on the spot from her sheer beauty.

  She doesn’t have any clue how she affects me by just one look.

  She has this power over me.

  She has this effect on most men.

  She doesn’t see it, but I knew and saw how men wanted to possess her, her beauty, her body, her beautiful heart.

  She’s next to perfection. And she was mine.

  How did I even manage to convince myself that I could be at the same party with her and not feel this? Savagely, I cursed my stupidity.

  She has always possessed power over me. No one has the capacity to drive me up the walls like Sienna can. Back then, she was it for me and yet she still walked away.

  I wasn’t enough for her. Never will be.

  I have to harden my resolve for my sanity’s sake.

  God, this is difficult! My throat ran dry as thoughts ran through scenes from a few minutes ago in my head, vividly. How she looked lying there, waiting with desire—all for me.

  All mine and mine alone. But not any longer—she will eventually find someone—it wouldn’t be hard. I bet there’s already a line waiting.

  The idea of another man possessing her brought ferocious feelings out of me. It was jealousy eating me alive.

  I couldn’t go there.

  Not tonight.

  “Sienna—I’m not going to apologize for this.... seeing you again made it impossible to resist you. I remembered us being good together and I just couldn’t seem to help myself…. I had to have you….”

  “So, that was just a one-time thing then?” she said in a shaky voice. Her beautiful eyes rimmed with unshed tears. How I wanted to possess this woman. My heart ached. I hated seeing her hurt, but I couldn’t let her get to me.

  I barely survived when she left the last time. I couldn’t go there again.

  Steeling my resolve, “Yes, it is—it was—I’m with Brooke.” She didn’t even let me finish before she started yelling.

  “That’s fucking convenient! You had sex with me without a second thought to your girlfriend and now…. after you got what you wanted, you’re in a relationship again?!” her voice screeched.

  Sienna was beside herself.

  Man, she looked even hotter when she was furious.

  I wanted to take her again, against the wall. I’m going crazy.

  I just wanted to reach out and kiss those pouty, swollen lips of hers senseless, for the last time. Just a little taste of her once more, before walking away.

  I hate feeling like this.

  This uncontrollable passion I have with her. I feel powerless against it.

  I have to get out of here—fast—before I start kissing her and fucking up more.

  Leave, now!

  I had to calm myself before responding to her accusing tone. “I didn’t use you. I asked you if it was okay before things got way too heated—and you told me it was fine!” I countered.

  I badly wanted to leave, but I hated seeing her upset and I certainly couldn’t leave without looking like more of an asshole after having a mind-blowing session in bed.

  I wanted to be friends with her, but it was impossible for me.

  That’s asking too much of myself.

  But I don’t want any hard feelings either. “Hey…we’ll talk this over when we’re sober and calmed down. I’ll come see you in a couple of days. How about we—” she held her hands up in exasperation.

  “You know what?! This was a stupid mistake! I thought for a second there—that—that you might feel something….or it meant that you still….you know what? It doesn’t matter what I think! Let’s forget this ever happened, kay? Please, don’t try to contact me because I don’t want to see or hear from you ever again!” she said with finality and walked out the door.

  Out of my life.

  Again.

  Hell, Sienna!!!

  Eight

  Sienna

  London, present

  “Sorry about that. I had to step out a bit to finish a business call. I didn’t leave you too long, did I?” Concerned look etched on his face as he waited for me to respond to his question.

  “No, it’s fine. Stop worrying Blake.” I smiled at him. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a worrywart sometimes?”

  Sipping his coffee as he gazed at me, Blake waited a beat before speaking. “Yes, you’ve often told me.”

  “It’s true. You’ve got to channel stress into something productive—like boxing, perhaps?” I said, teasing him.

  “Sure, as long as you join me, then we can kick ass together,” he jested back.

  Uh, not a good idea! I might just get turned on watching him—sweaty and full of angst.

  “No thanks, I let out my frustration through dancing.” I gave him a smug look.

  “Anyhow, what the hell happened between you and Camille?” using my casual tone. I was curious. I’m always curious when it comes to his girlfriends. Sometimes he’s forthcoming with the dirt, but sometimes he’s just tight-lipped.

  Twirling his coffee cup, he studied it with the utmost concentration before he spoke. “As I said before, she wanted to move in with me. She was getting demanding—jealous and paranoid. It was nothing permanent and she knew it, still she pushed. So, I had no choice but to let her go.”

  “I really believed you guys were going to last longer than two months. Together, you guys looked perfect. Are you okay, though? I know for a fact that break-ups are nasty and never easy,” I continued on when I didn’t get a reply.

  “So, she was jealous, huh? Were you entertaining and catering to your other girlfriends, Blake? Ay-yay-yay.” I gave him a ‘you’re-such a naughty-boy’ look—because he surely was.

  His throaty laugh filled the air. “Oh, Sienna—sometimes you’re just too adorable. To answer your question—no I wasn’t getting my groove on and screwing other women. Honestly, she was jealous of my relationship with you. She thought we spent a lot of time together—she thought I was crazy about you. I assured her that we were friends, nothing else—and the mere fact that you were with Kyle, didn’t convince her troubled mind. Cam was convinced that once Kyle was out of the equation—I would step in and have you all to myself,” leaning back and still playing with his coffee cup. His eyes were steady and pensive, studying my reaction.

  I laughed—hard—and almost ran out of air. That’s the funniest story I’ve heard, I thought.

  Was Camille high on drugs? Had she looked in the mirror lately? She was stunning. Where did she cook up ideas like that? Blake doesn’t go for women like me. If he wanted to, he had plenty of chances over the last eight months, but he never did try anything—anything to imply that he was interested, at all. So, she was being silly over nothing.

  “Finding my story funny, Sienna?” still watching me intently, voice steady and calm.

  He could be so intense sometimes. It makes my heart skitter.

  “Yes, I mean, come on! That was stupid! Why would she be jealous of me? Look at her—and look at me—she’s like the epitome of perfection. And the idea of us?—we’ll never work. I mean we like the same things, but we’re different. You’re like mega rich and soon you’ll be running the world, no doubt, with just a bat of your eyelashes and I’ll be, you know, the same. Normal,” my voice got small in the end, biting my bottom lip until all the blood drained.

  The idea of Blake—us—bothered me. We’re worlds apart, everyone can see that.

  He was still and unmoving, lips on a straight line, pensive. What’s he thinking now?

  He didn’t have the chance to reply.

  Our food arrived; we fell silent as we worked on our plates, lost in thought. The food was excellent and I was happy to oblige my grumbling stomach.

  “Mmmmm, this is definitely divine,” I said as I bit on a piece of bacon, savoring every taste as I closed my
eyes.

  “Certainly looks like it.” Blake murmured, locking his eyes on me as he took a bite of his toast.

  Shrugging, I set aside my dish after I practically devoured it with pure gusto. I worked on my coffee next. I needed something to do besides looking at his magnetizing eyes. Uncomfortable was not the word I would use to describe it. Maybe breathless would be fitting, possibly?

  After what seemed like five minutes, “Ready?” He asked as he was leaving a hundred pounds on the table.

  “Not really, guess I have to see what’s in store now, don’t I?” getting up and pretending to be petulant.

  “You’ll just have to wait and see my impatient one.”

  “Notting Hill?”

  “Yes, our next stop to your easing up-the-pain-strategy.” Blake smirked when he said easing.

  Ha.

  I would rather forget that embarrassing incident in the car just before breakfast.

  He parked the car, got out and opened the car door for me. I smiled. “Hummingbird?” I gleefully asked.

  “As you wish, milady,” he said with a little bow. That gesture put me in mild hysterics. He has a good sense of humor. This is why we are friends. We can act silly and have fun—it’s easy.

  We had found the bakery just by walking around on a Sunday afternoon and we both fell in love with it. We both like to indulge our sweet tooth. So, once in awhile, we come here to indulge. Though on special occasions, like when it’s that time of the month for me, he brings me a box of cupcakes to cheer me up. How thoughtful is that?

  Grabbing my hand and pulling me next to him, we strolled along, passing clothing boutiques and antique places. Notting Hill was a gem. They have a lot of funky, trendy stores and just about any knick-knack you could ever imagine. It’s awesome!

  We made our way to Hummingbird Bakery that makes these delicious, mouth-watering cupcakes. Each perfect bite is sheer bliss. Still holding hands, he guided me inside the shop.

  Ogling those beautifully decorated, earth-shattering pieces of ambrosia with yearning eyes, my mouth salivated.

  Blake ordered red-velvet and chocolate chip cupcakes to be eaten outside on the patio and a dozen more to take home. Oh, yum! You see how intuitive he is? Ha!

  “Let me pay for this one,” I ordered.

  He gave me a “shut-the-hell-up” look.

  I huffed and turned around as he paid for the cupcakes. It was always like this with Blake and Toby. They get offended if you offer to pay. Some men would gladly appreciate the offer. Some men expect women to pay half of everything, but those two still believe that as men, they have to take care of the ladies. They feel insulted if I ask.

  I found a table for two and waited for my cupcakes to arrive. Sitting, I basked in the sunshine and the warmth hitting my face. Life isn’t so bad when you have cupcakes, I mused.

  “Here we are!” announcing as he placed two of my favorite cupcakes in front of me. He cut the cupcakes in quarters. We have a ritual. Because we both love these flavors, we agreed to a compromise, eating them half and half. It was kind of cute.

  He took a piece of red-velvet and fed me. I opened my mouth, closed my eyes and savored the flavor.

  I’m a passionate person, especially when it comes to food.

  “Mmmm, yes!” I purred in satisfaction.

  He laughed, “I knew you wouldn’t be mad for long,” giving me his god-like smile again, placing his ray-bans atop his wavy hair. I looked away. He looked too tempting and when he smiles like that, I have this urge to stare at him and worship him.

  It’s very disconcerting to feel this way sometimes. It catches me off guard.

  He’s a great friend, a flirt, but a great friend nonetheless. So, when he acts a certain way—holding my hand and smiling at me—like I’m the only person in the world that matters...it confuses the shit out of me.

  My phone beeped. I took it out of my purse and checked the message.

  Kyle.

  Heart-thudding, I opened the message.

  Nine

  From: Kyle Matthews

  I went over to Jen’s to check if u were there last night and found out u went back to London. Why? Did u leave ’coz of me? Wanted to speak to you. WE HAVE TO TALK about what happened. About us. Call me. Seeing u again made me realize how much u mean to me, Sienna.

  I’ll be waiting for your call.

  I miss u,

  Kyle

  Shit. How do I reply to that? He sounded guilty as hell.

  Well, he should after he treated me crassly with no thought to my feelings. I remembered it clearly. He just took what he wanted and my feelings, again, were pushed aside.

  “Sienna… what is it?” I turned off the screen and slid it back to my purse.

  I sighed heavily. “Kyle…he wants to talk.”

  “Are you going to?” looking at me, pensive, unreadable.

  “No, I’m not giving that jerk the satisfaction,” I said with decisiveness and a clear voice. I had made up my mind.

  As much as it killed me to admit, I still hurt.

  What hurt more was the fact that he dated her a month before breaking it off with me. He didn’t even have the decency to end things before saddling himself up to someone else.

  To put icing on the cake, he had sex with me and still went back to her.

  And now he wanted to talk? The nerve!

  “What’s up next?” studying his unreadable expression. He grabbed my hand and played the inside of my palm with his middle finger—in slow, agonizing, fever-inducing rhythmic circles.

  He was touching me a lot today. He never used to, I mean apart from the usual greeting of kisses, hugs and nudges here and there—nothing as personal as this. I was afraid to ask him, so I pretended it didn’t bother me, like we do this all the time.

  “It’s a surprise, poppet. I’m sure you will figure it out soon enough.”

  Getting up and hooking my left arm around his, we strolled back to where his car was parked.

  Walking at a leisurely pace, my thoughts raced back to Kyle. Was it cold of me not to bother replying to his email? We had been through a lot and I considered him family. My mom died giving birth to me and my dad died when I was seven. From what I recall of my dad, he was a loving man, giving and he adored me. He used to talk about Mom all the time and how they loved me since they discovered they were pregnant.

  Dad had a heart attack. No one saw it coming; it was sudden and swift. All of a sudden, I was alone. I remember the conservator consoling and assuring me that my father was a wise man. That he had invested the insurance he got from my mother’s death shrewdly. He even added that there was more coming from my dad’s insurance policy amongst other investments he delved in. My dad made sure I had a college fund on top of everything else.

  He basically thought it out accordingly, just in case he died. I received a partial amount of his Social Security money to tide me over until I turned eighteen. It was the legal age when I took over my own spending and could handle all my finances.

  At the time, I could have cared less about money because all I wanted was my dad back.

  My father’s sister, Christy, took me in. She has a husband, Dan, and a daughter a year older than me, Caroline. It was hell living in the Brown’s household. I was the interloper who basically ruined their neat, consistent lives.

  When I met Kyle, the boy next door, he became my solace, my protector and my friend. His mother was always kind and loving to me—baking cakes and pastries that I enjoyed and loved through the years. I always depended on Kyle and leaving Los Angeles tore me apart, but I had to leave home. I just wanted to get away, to have a new life, a second chance to erase all the memories I endured living with the Brown’s. As a result, he was hurt, but supportive about my decision.

  My father made sure that I was well provided for. The money I got from him on my eighteenth birthday was substantial. I don’t need to work if I don’t want to. But I have other plans. I want to become successful and thrive in the marketing industry
.

  Leaning back against the cool leather seat, I exhaled. Boy, I’m exhausted. Driving around town seriously took a toll on my jet-lagged condition.

  I closed my eyes and tried to clear my head, the sounds of Moonlight Sonata in cello relaxing me into slumber as he squeezed my thigh.

  “Don’t drift off yet. Promise you can sleep when we get to our destination, alright?” glancing at me with a hint of a smile.

  He took a hold of my hand and placed it on his lap; I was overwhelmed with weird emotions washing over me.

  I turned sideways to look at him. Shades on, he looked like a sexy man from a car commercial, just a tad bit more good looking.

  He resembles Gaspard Ulliel or Christiano Ronaldo. That’s how deadly he looks. I suppose the Latin coloring and charm contributed from his Italian mother and when he speaks Italian…total major turn on.

  And his eyes, his eyes are another dynamic. Blake has the most unusual eyes, midnight blue rimmed silver with flecks of scattered gold in the middle. When he’s angry, his eyes turn almost black making those scattered gold flecks stand out. It’s like staring at the Milky Way galaxy—sucking you in, until you’re lost in them. It’s spellbinding and disconcerting at the same time.

  “Are you done checking me out, Sienna?” giving me a sideway glance and diverting back to the traffic ahead.

  Busted.

  “Not yet, just give me a few more minutes; I’m sure by then, I will have memorized all your flaws,” I quipped back.

  I was a tad mortified that he caught me staring wide-eyed at him. “Are we almost there?” I drastically needed to change the subject back to safer ground.

  “Yes, few minutes or so. Then you can sleep, my sweet, into the abyss just as long as you promise not to snore,” smiling tenderly at my horrified expression.

  “Ha! I do not snore!” I pinched at his leg.

  “Owwww.” Blake yelped but had his god-like smile in check. Dreamy is more like it. I hate it that he has a way of disarming me with that smile.

  As promised, after a few minutes, we arrived at our destination outside the upscale hotel in Knightsbridge. Getting out of the sexy Aston Martin, he handed the car keys to the valet attendant and tended to me. With a hand on my back, he gently guided me to the hotel spa.