Chase Me (Broke and Beautiful #1)(3)

“Is she the redhead?” Louis called back. When Roxy stopped in her tracks, he smiled to let her know he’d been kidding. Maybe. “Hold up. Can you just wait here a second? I should give you a tip.”

As he fumbled in his jeans pocket, Roxy smirked. “Which tip are we referring to here? I did just sing an ode to your penis.”

“Please don’t remind me.” He drew a twenty-dollar bill out of his wallet, pinching it between his fingers. “Just one request, though. I want to see your face first.”

Roxy felt a stab of irritation. What the hell did it matter what she looked like? Everywhere she went, every part she read for, critical eyes poked and prodded her. Too thin. Too curvy. Too tall. Too short. Never what they wanted. And just this morning, she’d been told she had a stripper’s body. The fact that this wealthy party guy was holding money over her head in order to judge her appearance only tripled her annoyance. “Why? If you like what you see, will you invite me inside? You haven’t even showered off the last girl yet.”

He actually had the grace to look a little ashamed. “I—”

Roxy didn’t give a shit about his answer. “Would you expect me to be flattered?” She clutched her chest dramatically. “Please, oh keeper of the golden penis, let me worship at your flawless phallus.”

“Careful.” His shame morphed into irritation. “You’re starting to sound a little jealous to me.”

“Jealous?” Oh, that did it. The shitstorm cloud above her head darkened, lightning bolts shooting through its sides. Kicked out of her apartment, not a single callback in weeks, and leaning toward stripping. He’d caught her on a bad f*cking day. Honestly, good days were getting harder to come by, and right now, she could think of only one thing that would help. Wiping the smug superiority off the Penis Prince’s face.

She bit down on her lips to plump them up, then reached up and removed the mask. Satisfaction danced in her bloodstream when his jaw went slack, brown eyes melting into a deeper shade. That’s right, buddy. I ain’t half bad. As she strode toward him, he straightened from the doorjamb, a groan working its way free of his throat. He saw the intention in her expression, knew what was coming. It didn’t escape her that even though she wore a thick pink bunny suit, he was looking at her like she wore a string bikini. Louis McNally the Second was an interesting character, she’d give him that.

“Jealous?” she repeated before shoving him into the apartment, bringing his back up against the inside wall just beside the door. “Sweetheart, I would rock your world.”

Not giving him a chance to respond, she surged up on her toes and melded their mouths together. Ohhh, snap. There was zero hesitation on his part, just a long, expert pull of her lips. As if she’d let go of a trapeze and he’d caught her in midair. The kiss hit the ground running, mouths opening, tongues fighting to take the lead. One strong hand found her chin and pulled it down further, allowing him to slant his head and deepen the kiss even further. Shock exploded behind her eyes, and she swayed a little under the wave of heat. Affected. He was affecting her in a way she wasn’t familiar with. She’d kissed a lot of guys, but she’d never felt dread over the idea of stopping. Louis pushed his tongue deeper, making a hungry sound and sending it vibrating into her mouth. She echoed it. Louder. Her head fell back and he moved with her, keeping their lips locked together, as if he couldn’t allow her to get away. What was happening here? She was losing control of the situation. Get it back.

Roxy pulled back and sucked in a deep breath. His mouth was damp and parted as he tried to draw in his own oxygen, his face a mask of stunned disbelief. “Who the hell are you?”

Swallowing the odd feeling in her throat, she plucked the twenty-dollar bill out of his fingers. “I’m gone.”

She blew into the hallway, sensing him staring after her. With as much dignity as one could muster while dressed like a pink bunny, she bypassed the elevator and took the stairs, two at a time.





Chapter 2



LOUIS SPLIT A look between his two best friends over the rim of his beer. Russell looked impressed by his story. Ben, as usual, looked as if he had just short of one hundred follow-up questions. None of which Louis had any desire to answer. He wanted to piggyback his hangover with a newer, fresher one and attempt to forget the kiss that had launched a thousand boners, thank you very much. Which is how he found himself in the Longshoreman less than twenty-four hours after tying one on within its four ancient walls. What was that saying about returning to the scene of the crime? Never do it? Well, too late.

“Wait . . . I’m confused. How did she grab the twenty with a big, furry paw?”

Russell groaned. “Leave it to you to get stuck on logistics, Ben. Louis made out with a rabbit. Just appreciate that for what it is.”

“It wasn’t a make-out,” Louis lamented. “It was like a . . . ha ha you wish this was a make-out, dickhead.”

“Bring her home to Mom. She’s a keeper.”

Ben leaned back in his chair. “How did she get past your doorman?”

Russell’s forehead hit the wobbly pub table, rattling the empty pint glasses. “Next he’ll point out that it’s not even Easter.”

Louis ignored them both. Kind of rude of him, really, considering they were both nursing their own hangovers and were still here keeping him company. “Look, she caught me at a bad time. One minute I’m sleeping under my coffee table with a coaster stuck to my forehead, the next I’m talking to a life-sized rabbit.” He massaged the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t even find out her name.”