Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“He is, miss. And I’m sure he’d be happy to see you.” The finally was silent.
“Okay,” I said, more to myself than him.
But Walter was quick to whip open the door before I got any ideas about walking off.
“Miss Amato?” Walter called, rushing in behind me.
“Yeah?”
“You’ll need the elevator key,” he said, going behind the desk to rummage around for it. “Here it is,” he said, proudly waving a drop key—a long, cylinder to insert into a hole in the elevator to unlock it—attached to some sort of keychain. “It’s that elevator right there,” Walter said, pointing toward where one was half-hidden by a wall.
“Thanks, Walter,” I said, taking the key and walking toward the elevator before I talked myself out of it. And likely broke poor Walter’s heart.
I stabbed the key in the lock and then stepped inside the elevator car. It was smaller than a typical elevator, feeling a little claustrophobic once the doors slid closed.
That was really the only reason I turned my attention to the key itself—so I didn’t start to feel like the walls were closing in on me.
The key itself was standard.
But the keychain he’d attached to it?
It was a cute, chubby little… cartoon pigeon.
He not only told his doorman about me, reminded him of me daily, and left a key for me to access his private elevator. He’d gone out—or gone online—and tracked down a pigeon keychain because I’d mentioned them. Once.
There it was again, that little swoop in my chest.
Before I could even try to analyze it, though, the car was doing that little drop, and the doors were sliding open.
Right into Soren’s apartment.
I’d spent zero time thinking about where he lived. Like I’d told him, I wasn’t good at visualizing out of thin air, without at least some chunk of text to fill in the blanks in my mind.
But even if I had thought about it, I was pretty sure no image I could conjure up would come close to the reality.
The man had a two-floor penthouse apartment with floor-to-ceiling windows, warm wood floors, oversized gray furniture, walls made of some sort of creamy brown tile with black accents—the floating stairs, the mantle, the ceilings—and lots of pendant lights and uplighting in soft, warm white.
The place practically glowed. Like there were candles hidden all around.
It was sexy and romantic and very, very, expensive.
I suddenly felt incredibly out of place.
I mean, I’d known Soren was rich. Crazy rich, even. But knowing that and seeing it were completely different things.
In my life, I’d gotten somewhat accustomed to feeling out of place in certain spaces. But never quite so much as I did right then—standing in my well-worn gray jeans, black tee, and scuffed combat boots.
What the hell was I doing?
I didn’t belong here.
I took a step backward, ready to stab the drop key back into the elevator and flee before he even knew I was there.
But then, suddenly, there he was.
Making his way down the floating stairs in nothing but a low-slung pair of black sleep pants, his gaze landing right on me.
It was too late to run.
Even if my legs were listening to me right then.
For the record, they weren’t.
I was frozen on the spot, helpless to do anything but let my gaze slide over all that exposed skin.
He’d mentioned the gym a time or two, but I had no way of knowing just how dedicated he was to that ritual. Looking at him now, though, there was no way to deny it. All those delicious indents of muscles spanning his chest, down his stomach, and even disappearing into the waistband of his pants.
And I already knew what was hiding under there.
“Saff.” My name sighed out of him as he stopped on the lowest step. “Fucking finally.”
His voice was that of a desperate man, one who found water after being stranded in the desert, who couldn’t believe his good fortune.
And he felt that way about me.
There was no stopping the strange little whimpering sound that escaped me right then.
That same sound was what had Soren rushing across the space between us.
One hand went to the back of my neck, the other around my lower back, both pulling me flush against his firm, warm body as his lips claimed mine.
Any thoughts of leaving evaporated at his possessive hold, at his demanding lips, at the way my body just melted into him until I felt like I was swaying on my feet.
Soren slammed me back against the elevator doors, but his hands were gentle as they both moved to frame my face. And that intoxicating combination of hard and soft at once had me moaning against his lips even as my hands drifted up the corded muscles on his arm to wrap around the back of his neck.
He kissed me long and deep, until my lips, body, and mind, felt like they were floating.