Chase (Chase #1)
Authors: M. L. Young
CHASE
The Series
Volume One
M.L. Young
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblances of characters to actual persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. The author, M.L. Young, holds exclusive rights to this work.
Copyright © 2014 by M.L. Young
All rights reserved
NOTE
: This is a serial, and unfolds over three volumes. This series also has alternating points of view. Each volume is 20,000 words, and each volume will be $0.99, but free to read with your Kindle Unlimited membership. Please join my mailing list (link at the end) for release dates, as well as to know when things launch as they happen. I will also update this on my Facebook, with the link below at the end of the volume.
Also by M.L. Young
Chase
My name is Matthew Chase, but you can call me Chase.
I’ve never been one for the
type of romantic exploits that most of society seems to thrive on. I’ve been burned one too many times to even care about tending to your fragile heart any longer. The thing I’m interested in is purely
carnal
. I want to feel your touch, your body, your skin, but never get close to the point where I see your heart or what you normal people would call feelings.
There once was a time
when I used to be a relationship man, one who tended to the hearts of women, doing everything and anything I could to make sure they were safe, satisfied, and most of all, loved. A few choice women ruined that for all of you, though. Now I’m off the market…at least in every way besides the bedroom.
I’ve
been fortuitous enough to have luck in my life, the kind of luck that only presents itself once. It’s the kind of luck you have to hold onto if you’re to get anywhere in life, and trust me, I plan to go
very
far.
I pulled into the parking garage of my office
in downtown Los Angeles, the smell and sight of aspiring starlets almost too much for my overloaded nose to handle as they gathered outside my building, hoping to get a glimpse of someone, anyone, they could give their demo tapes to.
I should start by saying that
I’m a record executive, and a damn good one at that. You know Nigella Riseman, the multi-platinum star who’s now made millions? I signed her when she was Nicole Herman, the shy, introverted nursing student who had wiry hair and thick, black eyebrows. I transformed her, like I have others, into mega superstars who tour the world and make millions, and in turn, make me millions.
I parked my metallic red
sports car near the front of the garage, always making sure I click twice on my key fob, just so I can hear the chirping sound of my alarm activating. Three hundred thousand dollars of Italian engineering never sounded so damn good.
I
flashed a smile as I walked to the elevators, the girls outside the cement walls in their bohemian clothes waving crazily at me, not knowing who I am, but obviously seeing I’m important…and let me tell you, I’m damn important. The security guards and gates kept them back, their little hands dangling CDs and letters my way, like fishermen with a lure, but I wouldn’t, and couldn’t, be caught. I knew I had the power to single-handedly turn them into superstars, on their way to headline huge stadiums domestic and international, but for now, I needed some coffee.
I got into the elevator and felt my phone buzz
inside my pocket, like it did most of the day. They, and I mean my colleagues, never have the courtesy to leave me alone. Business was always on, with no days off. With nobody around, I took it out, seeing on the lock screen that I had a notification from RandomMeetX, a truly remarkable hookup and relationship app that I’ve been using for months with very, very great results. Women see me, they message me, I flirt a little, and I get them in bed. It’s that simple. There are no second dates, no second meetings, no second moments together in bed…nothing. I meet them, I seduce them, I fuck them, and I move on to the next.
I know some people must think I’m horrible for doing this, not telling these fine women that my needs are
only for pleasure and not romantic, but it’s exactly what their species has done to me multiple times throughout the years. Isn’t this just me getting even? I’d like to think so, even if some others might not. Besides, not every person you meet on every dating site or app can be the right person to spend the rest of your life with in a little cottage with a white picket fence and a loving dog and children. Sometimes you need something that satisfies that human urge to be close to someone, skin-to-skin, as they run their hands down your hard, masculine body before you flick your tongue up and down their pulsing clit.
With my phone out, I
opened the dating app, seeing my new match show up.
“Eh,” I mumbled aloud as I clicked on her pictures.
She wasn’t that amazing, more homely than anything, but for some reason she had some kind of spell that made me want to learn and see more about her. She wasn’t like the other girls I had talked to on this app. She wasn’t sporting DD fake tits and dousing on so much bright pink lip-gloss that you thought the valley was missing another bimbo. She was something else entirely. I could tell her body was nice, even if her clothes weren’t that revealing, and her skin was soft, her hair a little flowy, not weighed down by clouds of hairspray and product. I liked it.
Her
nametag said Alexis, a name I rather liked. She was ten miles away, a Libra, and her biggest adventure to date was going snorkeling in San Diego. Definitely not a wild girl by any means, but sometimes the wildest of personalities hide under a soft exterior that just needs to be cracked open.
As my floor was approaching, I decided to make her number eighty-two,
also my birth year, and send her a wink. I hit send, locked my phone, and slid it back into my pocket just as the elevator doors opened and the sight of frantic interns running around plagued my vision for yet another day.
“Mr. Chase!”
I looked to my right, seeing my assistant, Brian, running towards me with papers falling out of his grip. He was five-foot-six, one hundred forty pounds soaking wet, and one of the smallest men I had ever known. He was, however, a great assistant, and he always got things done, which was why I kept him on instead of a sexy twenty-two-year-old who couldn’t get a coffee order right. I’d had a few of them.
“What is it, Brian?” I asked.
“Ms. Riseman is here, and she isn’t happy one bit! She says she’s going to quit!” he said frantically.
“Relax, Brian, she isn’t going to do anything
. She’s a diva. She does this every few months, calls me up, trying to demand more money or resources from us. It’s fine. Where is she?” I asked.
“In your office,” Brian replied.
I walked casually to my office, making Nigella, or Nicole as she was really known, wait as long as possible, like I always did. I didn’t let her, or any other woman, for that matter, boss me around and turn me into someone like Brian. Matthew Chase wasn’t whipped, and he wasn’t controlled by
any
woman.
After a few minutes,
with a warm coffee in my hand, I walked into my office, the floor to ceiling glass that looked out over the city showcasing Nigella with her back to me, her hands on her hips.
“Hello
, darling,” I said, setting down my bag and coffee.
“Where the fuck have you been
, Chase? I’ve been waiting for your ass to get here and work out these goddamn problems,” she said, turning around with a scowl.
“Always nice to see you too, Nicole,” I said, before taking a sip of my coffee.
“I’m not kidding with you this time. I want my shit, all of the shit on my list, and I want it
now
,” she said.
I walked up to her,
getting close, looking into her eyes, as she pursed her lips and tried to give me the death stare that only she could give. I gazed at her, sizing her up, seeing the little kitty cat hidden deep within the lioness persona she tried to give off.
I leaned in, my lips to her ear, my hand
making its way onto her hip. “We can’t all have what we want,” I said, feeling her body quiver and her stance change. I pulled slowly away and sat down in my chair, once again taking the full weight of my attention off of her.
“Why do you do this to me?” she asked.
“Because I can,” I replied, smiling.
“I’m going to come back another day when I have some more time
and you’re on fucking time. You wasted all of mine by not being here when you’re supposed to be. You better look over my demands. I mean it,” she said, wagging her red-tipped finger at me.
“
And you don’t come back here unless you’re bent over my desk, with me telling you
my
demands,” I quickly snarked back.
“God, you’re such a misogynist,” she said, turning around to walk out the door.
“Don’t act like you don’t like it,” I retorted.
She looked back at me, rolled her eyes, and walked out of the room
. I turned around in my chair and sipped my coffee as I looked out my office windows to the scene of Los Angeles down below, the ordered chaos of the busy streets winking back.
My phone buzzed, catching my undivided attention as I pulled it out
. The chirping sound I’d set this app to play when I got a new match or message made me light up like a five-year-old kid during Christmas. What new fish did I reel in this time?
I unlocked my phone, seeing that the girl from earlier
had winked me back. Her full profile showed up, her name in bright lights. I’d forgotten her name after I locked my phone before, but there it was, demanding I learn it, even if I would forget it the next morning.
“Alexis,” I said
out loud as I stroked my stubbly chin.
The little cursor on the chat box blinked incessantly, waiting for me to say something, anything
. Usually I tried to take something from their profiles, a little tidbit of information, crafting the kind of message other guys aptly missed but shouldn’t, and used it to twist these girls around my fingers, showing them that I’m
different
and
not like every other guy
. She had none of that, though. Her profile was bare, blank, devoid of information, and quite honestly, rather boring.
Like a basketball player on the cour
t when the timer’s about to buzz and the championship game’s about to end, I quickly typed something, not knowing if I’d sink the shot, but throwing the ball anyway, hoping for the best.
“You have the most exquisite eyes
. The depths of blue from which they stem make even the most tropical of waters look dull and bleak in comparison.”
I hit send, smirked, and went back to her profile, looking at the
few pictures and studying her from head to toe. While she wasn’t a glamorous girl with everything hanging out, she was strikingly sexy. I didn’t know if it was her eyes, her soft complexion, or her tight curves that beckoned from under her plain-Jane clothes, but I knew I wanted to taste them. Like a caged lion cut off from the wild for years, I was hungry, and I knew what was going to satiate my hunger and desire.
One night
. One time. One chance.