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At seven-thirty-eight, my phone buzzes.

Armand

She’s in the hallway.

Time to move. I stalk out of my penthouse and punch the elevator button, heart pounding like a jackhammer. Anticipation buzzes through me as the doors part, and there she is, slightly frazzled, clutching her coffee and cursing under her breath.

“Seriously?” she mutters, glaring at the heavens. “Does the universe hate me?”

I smirk, more alive than I’ve felt in ages. “Good morning, Coffee Girl.”

“Morning.” She pastes a fake smile on her face. “How’s your day going?”

I let my eyes drag over her from top to bottom, slow and deliberate. “Better now,” I rumble, not even pretending to play it cool. Hell, I want her flustered. I want her blushing and breathless, thinking about me all damn day.

Her cheeks go pink. Again. Fuck yes. That blush is my new obsession. I want to see her flush like that from my hands, my mouth, my cock buried so deep she won’t remember her own name. But I’ll force myself be patient.

“Good,” she squeaks and reaches down to brush a little bit of lint from her suit jacket.

I lean a little closer, catching that sexy scent of hers. Roses and something sharper. She’s breathing quickly, and I get a rush from knowing I’m the reason she’s flustered.

God, she’s so fucking cute. I want to back her up against the mirrored wall and see just how many ways I can make her blush. Instead, I just let my eyes drag over her again, nice and slow, until she fidgets and pretends to check her phone.

I try to play it cool, but my cock is already rock hard and pressing against my suit pants. Jesus. I haven’t ever had this kind of reaction to a woman.

The elevator slides to a stop, and the doors swish open way too fucking soon. We step out, and I notice Armand and Tony discreetly stepping around a pillar to follow me as I watch Alice hightail it across the lobby. As I watch her disappear, I’m already planning my next move. No matter what it takes, I’m going to win over my coffee girl.