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I’ve never felt unsafe with Midas, even if he is demanding, but I don’t know him from Adam. He could be a serial killer, or a sex offender who gets off on kidnapping women and making them wear his t-shirts while they scrub his floor with a toothbrush.
He’s holding open the door to the building, waiting for me, but my feet are glued to the sidewalk.
“Jeslyn.”
I step forward, an involuntary, responsive action. I pull my phone out of my pocket and wave it in his face. “Don’t try anything. One button and it’ll call the cops.”
He looks at me like I’ve totally lost it. Maybe I have. I do tend to overthink things. And panic easily.
“Are you going to keep your phone in your hand all night? Because that might get complicated when it comes to some of the things I have planned for those pretty hands of yours.”
My cheeks heat with a strange mix of embarrassment and arousal. He places a hand on the small of my back and firmly leads me through the open atrium to the elevators. I don’t make any attempt to leave, but I keep hold of my phone. My mind tells me going to his apartment is very different from going to a party together, but my body is completely content to follow this man anywhere.
He doesn’t try anything on the way up, but his hand stays on my back. In this tiny elevator, he feels like an open fire. Hot, humid, hungry. The energy between us makes me flushed and sweaty, desperate to peel off my clothes. It’s physical, but it’s more than that, too. An inexplicable pull that makes me want to curl up next to him and learn everything about him.
Once the elevator door opens, he hunches over me and drops his voice. “I won’t hurt you, Jeslyn. Ever. In public. Or private.” Then he straightens and the side of his lips curls up in a soft smirk. “Unless you ask me to.”
I shiver, despite the heat wrapping around me. His hand drops away from my back, and he walks out of the elevator. I stare after him with my feet stuck in place. My earlier bravado feels like an old memory. What exactly am I doing here? What do I want from this man? From this night?
The elevator doors start to close, and I jump forward, making my decision. I want whatever he’s offering.
Chapter 6
His place is massive. It feels like a fancy cavern, dressed up in straight lines and modern material. The ceilings have to be at least thirty feet tall. The floor plan is open, one massive living space covering the room I’ve walked into. There’s a wide stairway made of metal and glass that goes up to a second story that appears to be equally open and vast.
The living room in front of me isn’t just a couple of couches facing a TV. Everything is spread out with enough space between for an elephant to easily maneuver.
On one side of the room, there’s a brown leather sectional facing the TV on that wall. The couch looks well worn—but in that stylish way that you find in upscale catalogues. It’s larger and deeper than a normal couch, and if I had to guess, I’d say it was custom ordered. In front of it, there’s a low ottoman, at least as big as a small kitchen table.
In the middle of the room, there’s a sitting area with four chairs, all facing an open fireplace. And on the other side of the space, there’s a collection of low tables and floor pillows.
Oh, the possibilities! So many pieces of furniture to be thrown over and on and against. My cheeks heat as I imagine Midas sitting on one of those low tables, pillows under my knees as I give him a blow job. I picture myself splayed out on the ottoman that’s as big as a bed. Or bent over the back of that velvety leather couch.
A quiet, closed-mouthed moan shakes my insides just thinking about spending a night exploring this room and each other.
“I’m glad you joined me.” Midas steps around the corner, holding out a bottle of water. “You should hydrate.”
“Presumptuous, aren’t you?” I try to make my voice sound teasing, but I’m a little too worked up to pull it off. I take the water.
“Certain.” The word is arrogant, but his gaze is soft.
The water is cold and refreshing after the warmth in the elevator. He watches until I’ve finished the bottle, which doesn’t take long. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was. Once it’s empty, he takes it from me. “Come. I’ll show you where you can change.”
I follow him into the kitchen, which is just as impressive as the living room. Everything’s white and modern and spread out. He tosses the bottle in recycling—gotta love a man who takes care of the earth—then leads me up a spiraling staircase, down a hall so wide I could lie across it and my feet and head still wouldn’t touch the walls. He stops in front of a door at the very end of the hall.
When he opens it, I gasp. The wall in front of me is one of those solid glass sliding doors and half of it is open, letting in the chilly winter air. But with Midas next to me, it doesn’t feel cold.
The view of the city is breathtaking—better than anything I’ve ever seen before. To the right, there’s an archway that leads into a bathroom. To the left, there’s a bed that’s twice as big as any bed I’ve ever seen. It’s covered in enough blankets and pillows to make the word nest pop into my mind. I want to burrow myself under them.
Midas leans against the doorframe, watching me take it all in.
“This place is amazing,” I breathe out. New York penthouses aren’t exactly my typical haunt, so I have no idea if this is normal, but something tells me it’s not. I knew Midas was rich, but this whole place screams more than rich. He’s Jeff Bezos rich. Taylor Swift after the Eras tour rich. Elon Musk rich.
“This is your guest room?” I ask.
“No, this is my room.”
“Oh.” I don’t want to read too much into that, but it feels significant.
