“Yeah. I’ll take you,” he says slowly, voice low and quiet, like he doesn’t want anyone but me to hear.
“Is there someone else here?” I ask. Not because I’m scared, but there’s something about this man and the way he ogles my body openly that sets off the warning bells in my head. Like he wouldn’t hesitate to back me into a corner and try to have his way with me, even as I shouted no.
Shaking his head, he shares a smile. “Nope. Just me today. Lucky you.”
“And why would that make me lucky?”
“Because I’m going to show you the best spaces in the facility before tomorrow’s open house. And since you’re so pretty, I may even cut your price.”
The game he’s playing is as old as time, flirt with the cute, naïve young girl and hope to get some action in the back stairwell. He may think that because I’m alone, I’m an easy target, or a willing one. That because I bat my lashes, it means I’m asking for it, which somehow relieves him of the title of being a fucking pervert. That he can fuck the kid in high school with no repercussions.
What he doesn’t understand is I’m not one to be fucking played with. I am much better at the game than any man could ever be.
“Well then, I guess that does make me lucky,” I rasp, pressing my tits against the counter, so he gets a long look at my cleavage. “Why don’t you lead the way?”
Like a dog eager for a treat, he does as he’s told and jumps from around the counter, motioning toward the elevators.
“Let’s take the stairs,” I counter, pointing at the double glass doors across from me. There’s no way I’m going to be stuck in a metal box with this man now when his intentions are dripping with filth.
But I can play.
Just a little.
“After you,” Roy says, throwing out his arm.
I deny him with a sweet smile. “No. You first.”
So up we go, swiftly past the second floor. Once we hit the third landing, Roy describes every available room.
“Most renters use these spaces as offices for corporate meetings or something similar. They’re spacious enough to fit dozens of people, but it’s crowded.”
Unlocking a heavy wooden door, he throws it open and flicks on the light. “This floor has about thirty spaces, so if you’re comfortable with noise, then this could work.”
The room looks as to be expected, with cement floors and distressed brick walls with six-by-six windows staring out into the lonesome street.
“This something you’re looking for?” Roy asks, pressing his spine into the ridges of the stone wall. I examine it a bit, dragging my nails along the bricks as I stroll around the area. It’s great, could even be perfect, but it isn’t calling my name.
“No, this won’t work. I’m an artist… I need ample space. Plus, the quiet. I can get loud,” I whisper, scraping my fingers against his beating heart as I come to stand in front of him.
“I bet you can, baby.”
I soak in his stuttered breath, letting it fuel that wicked part of my soul. “Is there something better?”
His fingers wrap around my wrist and hold me tightly to him. The rush of adrenalin soaring through my veins screams at me to mace him because who is he to touch something that doesn’t belong to him? But he offered me a deal, and if I have to let him think I’ll let him inside my body, then so be it.
“I have something better for you, baby. It’s big too.”
Oh, I doubt it.
“I bet it is.”
Hand still attached to mine, he drags me out of the room and up another flight of stairs. I know immediately these lofts will be another bust.
“How about this?” he asks, throwing me forward. I bite back the snarl in my chest from his aggressive touch and saunter across the room.
The rooms on the fourth floor are exquisite but stuffy. There's no life in this glittering, opulent space. Instead, it reeks of pretentiousness and superiority, high above anyone else, so the snotty-nosed CEO who purchases this loft can look down on those from above.
I may have grown up better off than most, but flashing my wealth has never been an option.
