“Who the fuck said chivalry was dead?” I curse under my breath, clutching my black purse.What the hell am I doing? I don’t know this person. I should know better by how many episodes of his show I’ve listened to. Sure, I guess I don’t really listen to the content some of the time.I shift in my seat and look down at my lap. “This is your fucking fault,” I admit aloud.
“Everything alright?” Lee asks, opening my door. His hand is still on the handle.
“Of course.” I manage to fake a smile on my red lips as I slide out of the passenger seat. His hard chest brushes against my back, making the goosebumps on my arms stand out. The echo of thecar door closing fills the parking garage. It makes me nearly jump out of my skin in my platform boots.
“Right this way, Sweetheart.” He takes my hand in his, covering it with his. He pulls me to his side and we quickly walk across the street and into the large building in front of us. If I told you I don’t have the biggest smile on my face, I would be lying.
The doors to the lobby are huge, tinted glass doors. Lee nods in the direction of the doorman as we walk in. “Hello, Mr. Reynolds.” It’s like he reads from a script. His uniform is an all black suit in pristine condition.What is this, The Plaza from Home Alone?The look on Lee’s face is far from welcoming.I guess he isn’t much for conversation.He makes a quick line for a nearby elevator, pulling me along with his arm now wrapped around my waist.
“You have a lobby? Scratch that, a doorman?” I ask probably louder than I should as soon as the elevator doors quietly shut.
“You don’t?” His deep chuckles send goosebumps up my arms as he turns his head just slightly to face me. The split second of waiting in the elevator seems like lifetimes before he pushes the button labeledPH.It lights up yellow with one single touch.
“Who the hell are you?” I press, only half joking.
“You want to find out, Sweetheart?”You have no fucking idea how much I want that.I can feel his strong gaze through his hooded and lustful eyes. They trail from my lips down to my thighs.
“I thought that’s why I came with you.” My voice is now quiet and shaky.Am I trying to flirt again? I am doing a terrible job.Amusement covers his face, smiling from ear to ear.Yep, it’s official. I’m awful at this whole flirtation thing.He turns his head and looks forward at the elevator doors.
Thesilver doors open to the sound of a quietding.“This is our floor.” He continues to hold my hand as we walk out. We both come to a stop in front of the door to his apartment. He fishes his keys out of the side pocket of his leather jacket. I look down at his hands as he slides the key into the lock. The echo of the clicking sound from the lock resounds in the hall.
“After you.” He opens the door, leaving enough space for me to get around him.
I look around his place and drop my purse by the entrance at the sheer shock of its size. “Holy shit! This is your apartment?” His penthouse is designed to resemble the places you only see in magazines. Everything from the furniture to the cabinets is a modern black aesthetic. Aside from an empty whiskey glass on the dark wood end table, his place is pristine. There is no way he could have arranged it. This has “hired designer” written all over it. He stands nearby with his arms crossed over his chest.Damn, he’s going to kill me with that smug look he does.
“This is home.” He comes closer. “Let me take your coat.” He grabs the back of the collar. Brushing my neck with the tips of his knuckles, moving my hair out of the way. He slides it down my arms, leaving me in my red mesh shirt. “You want a drink?” He asks, hanging my jacket on the coat rack by the door.
“No, I think I had enough for the evening.”I want to remember this moment. On lonely nights, it will replay over and over in my mind.
“Water?” He counters with a coy look, now leaning in front of his open fridge. He holds the bottle out in my direction.
“Yes, please,” I reply quietly, walking towards his kitchen, the heels of my boots clicking on the black tile.
“Please? I like the sound of that. You want to beg for it, Sweetheart?” His voice deepens as he holds the bottle over my head teasingly. My heart beats faster, and I move in closer to his chest.
“Please.” I look up at his full lips.Is this happening?I have dreamed about this many nights.
“Please, what, sweetheart?” He sets the bottle of water down on the granite counter.Please, what? I don’t know. I never thought I would get this far. Can I please have my water? No, that’s not it. Please touch me. Do something. Say something, Thalia. Stop thinking and just do it. My hands reach up his sculpted chest under his tight black T-shirt, slowly tracing over all his defined lines.Fuck, he’s just like my fantasy.What the hell? Who the hell has a body like this? This can’t be real. He’s like one of those statues of those Greek gods. I know this isn’t happening to me right now. It’s another one of my dreams, and I’m going to wake up any minute in my bed with Artemis at my feet.
“What do you want?” His question breaks me out of my trance. His silver eyes peer down to meet mine, searching for the answer that is surely reflected there.
“What do you want, Sweetheart?” He asks again. He places his fingers gently under my chin, lifting my head to meet his gaze.No, it’s happening.My hands grip the bottom of his shirt.
“Do you want me?” My eyes go wide at his words, and I nod. “Use your words, Thalia.”
“Yes,”I whisper, the word soft, but we both know what I want. I can hear his intake of breath at my response before he grabs my face in his hands.
“Oh,” he says, almost breathless, “Iknowyou do.”
His eyes move to my mouth, biting his lower lip before kissing me.Oh, damn, I love how his lips feel against me. I let my lips part, and I feel his tongue on mine. His mouth muffles the quiet moans slipping past my lips at his touch. I shudder as his hands move through my hair, getting wrapped in my curls. More goosebumps collect on my arms as I feel him harden against my outer thigh.
He grabs my waist and lifts me onto the kitchen counter, his lips still eagerly exploring me, seemingly unable to stray far from my skin. His fingertips move slowly from my waist to the hem of my red mesh shirt as if trying to memorize the contours of my body. Pulling off my shirt, he leaves me in just my lacy bra. I run my hands down his chest and remove the tight black fabric hiding what I’ve been waiting to see.If he gets to look at me, I get to fixate on him, too.
Intricate lines draw my eyes down the length of his perfect form, the light around us painting him as an angel.Or a devil.
“You like what you see?” He asks.What? You can’t see me salivating?
“Hell yes, I do,” I blurt out without thinking.Shit, did I just say that out loud?My hands immediately begin tracing each detail of the tattoo that runs from his chest down to the waistband of his jeans. If it distracts him from the words that fell from my mouth, he doesn’t let on. Instead, he watches as my hands stop at the black metal button of his pants.
