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“Belle.” The tone of his voice told me this wasn’t a discussion. I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling and walked toward the elevator.

The doors opened and we stepped in. I hit fifteen and the moment they closed, the elevator felt about half its usual size. The ride seemed to take forever and was only made worse because this nigga insisted on standing close enough that I could feel his body heat through my dress.

I focused on the numbers and took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.

I stepped out first when we reached my floor, all too aware of his presence behind me.

“This is me,” I said when we got to my door.

“This is you,” he echoed as he stepped closer, invading my space.

His eye dropped to my mouth for a second before he reached out and adjusted a loose strand of hair that had slipped from my bun. I shivered as his fingers brushed against my cheek and settled on my neck.

“I really want to kiss you,” he said.

I just nodded, because I wanted him to kiss me too. Badly.

The moment his lips touched mine, my body relaxed—relieved I’d finally stopped fighting it. He kissed me slowly at first, testing the waters. His free hand slid to my waist and pulled me closer. I ran my hands over his chest and broad shoulders before wrapping my arms around his neck.

Cardez moved from my mouth and began trailing kisses down my throat, teeth grazing my skin as he pressed me back against the door. A moan slipped out as my head fell back and heat pooled between my thighs.

This had to stop. If not, I’d be making the decision my body was begging me to and I couldn’t give in. Not yet.

I pulled back and he rested his forehead against mine.

“You gotta go,” I said. My voice didn’t even sound like mine.

He stepped back enough to look at me. His eyes were low and dark, the lust in them undeniable. I glanced down and peeped the print pressing through his pants. He ran a hand over his jaw and let out a breath.

“Yeah,” he said. “I should do that.”

He moved to step toward me then caught himself, backing up, turned, and walked to the elevator without looking back.

I went inside and leaned against the door in the dark.

“FUCK!” I yelled out to my empty apartment.

7 CARDEZ MONTAGUE

I woke up and my brain skipped right past the fifty-’leven things I had to deal with and went straight to how Belle melted in my arms when I had her pressed up against her door.

I groaned as my dick bricked up at the memory. I’d wanted her to invite me in, even though I knew she wouldn’t. Belle wasn’t the type to give in so easily—she was used to niggas chasing her.

And here was my dilemma: I wanted to text her, to check in and see how she was doing. But doing that would prove she had the upper hand, and I wasn’t about to give her that confirmation.

“Stupid woman,” I grumbled as I got out of bed. I went through the motions. Showered. Made coffee. Checked my phone, secretly hoping for a text from her to pop up.

Cool. We were both stubborn. That was gonna be a problem eventually, but right now it was just funny.

I still had this shit with Victor to deal with. Friday came and went and that motherfucker still hadn’t brought me my missing product.

I called Yomi.

“Yo,” he answered.

“You heard from Victor’s people?”

“Nope. I called this morning and they gave me the same shit they gave me yesterday— ‘Victor will get back to you.’”