It’s lovely, don’t get me wrong. It just doesn’t look like a place that anyone lives, not long-term. It doesn’t feel like a home.
“You don’t spend a lot of time here, do you?” I ask as I step into the apartment. Behind me, he follows me out of the elevator, but remains quiet. I trail my hand along the kitchen counters, and glance across at the living room. There’s a fireplace, modern like the rest of the place, but it could be cozy. Add a throw-rug, and some blankets and pillows to that deep leather sofa, and move the way-too-big TV a little farther back from the couch . . . Add some paintings on the bare walls between the windows, maybe some thicker curtains, something patterned and homey, and this place could work nicely to live in.
It could definitely be turned into not-a-hotel-room easily.
I glance over my shoulder. Pierce’s eyes never leave mine—he’s studying me, waiting for my reaction. I smile at him, but he remains serious, almost . . . Anxious? No way. Not him.
“You seem like a very busy man,” I point out, stating the obvious. But even then, he doesn’t agree. Just watches me like he’s waiting for something. “Don’t you ever relax? Take time off to enjoy your home?”
He shrugs. “I enjoy living here.”
“Do you? Or do you just enjoy that it’s probably close to work?” I glance out the window, and sure enough, there’s the now-familiar logo of Woodland Marquis glowing across the street.
“I like the apartment, too,” he protests.
I laugh. “For all ten minutes I’ll bet you spend in it every day.” I step closer to him and prod at his side gently. He catches my hand in his, then twines his fingers through mine. “Do you even take time to enjoy meals? Go on walks, take breaks, maybe . . . date people?” I raise an eyebrow, challenging.
He scowls. “No comment.”
I laugh harder. “That’s why you were on that Sugar Babies site, isn’t it?” I smirk. “You don’t even have time to pick up all the hot ladies who would fawn all over you, huh? You had to find them digitally, browsing at lunch in between checking work emails?
“That’s not why.” He grabs my waist, pulls me against him. He lifts me up so his feet slide under mine, and next thing I know we’re walking backwards, me balanced on tiptoe on top of his feet. I wrap my arms around his neck for balance.
“Bullshit.” I lift my eyebrows. “I’ll bet you found me in between working on accounts, or in the one half an hour you allowed yourself between day-long meetings.”
“Wrong.” He pushes me backwards and I gasp in surprise. But I hit the bed a second later—I didn’t even notice him carrying me down the stairs. Damn, he’s good. He’s strong enough to throw me around, position me however he wants. It makes me hot as hell.
I spread my legs in a dare and raise my eyebrows at him. “Right.” I lift my chin higher as he crawls on top of me onto the bed. I stare up at him, defiant. “Admit it, I’m at least warm.”
His hands trace my sides, slipping under my shirt to reach for my breasts. “I’ll say.”
I laugh and lean up to kiss him, wrapping one hand around his neck. He kisses me back, slow, deep. Nothing like the frenzied, angry kisses when we first met. This is a real kiss. When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing faster, our eyes glazed.
“Fine,” he whispers against my lips. “You might be close to the truth. But only close.”
“Oh really?” I nip at his lip gently, then kiss him again. “Only warm?”
“Maybe smoking hot.” He pushes me backwards into the comforter. I arch my hips and he takes the signal, undoing my jeans and yanking them off in one swift motion. He leaves my panties on, though, and I wonder if he recognizes them as the first pair he bought for me, at the salon.
“So you are a workaholic.” I run my hand over his fresh stubble, and savor the rough sensation across my palm.
“I’m busy, yes.” He leans in and kisses my neck, and I fall against the sheets, surrendering. “But have you considered that maybe I bought you just for the glory of fucking a virgin?” His breath is hot against my ear, and his tongue toys with my earrings. “I fantasized about you from the moment I first saw you.” He bites down, his teeth digging into my earlobe, and I gasp softly. “I imagined taking you before anyone else could. Tasting every inch of you.” He licks his way down my neck, and I run my hands through his hair, desperate to feel his bare skin on mine. But he’s clearly going to take his time, and for once, I don’t mind. Because I know this is it. He’s finally going to give me what I want.