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But I’m not in Hawaii anymore.
Ace steps away from the door to make space for me to enter. “Come on in, Texas.”
I step inside the most insanely luxurious apartment I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s absolutely palatial. Floor-to-ceiling windows frame the entire apartment. One thing I’m learning about New York is that windows equal money. Windows with outstanding views equal lots of money. And windows with views like this when paired with vast amounts of floor space and decorated with this much stylish furniture equals insane amounts of money. It boggles the mind to think about how much something like this would cost.
Large arched doorways offer tantalizing views into a formal dining room and a gleaming, immaculate chef’s kitchen. Rustic wooden beams, leather furniture, inlaid bookshelves and lamps casting golden light soften the masculinity of the place, giving it a surprisingly romantic feel. Gorgeous wood floors are overlaid with thick, plush-looking Persian rugs.
A sliding door opens out onto a low-lit patio area that’s as big as the interior. There’s an outdoor seating area with couches, opulent outdoor lighting and leafy plants. There’s even a hot tub with steam rising off of it, overlooking the view of Manhattan.
Wow.
In Hawaii, we were on a more even playing field. Yes, he was in the penthouse, but I only found that out after we’d talked for a while. For all I knew, his company could have been paying for him to be there. We met at the bar like two vaguely normal, everyday people.
But nothing about Cash Maddox is ordinary.
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” I comment off-handedly, trying not to be too stunned by my awe.
“Thanks,” he smiles, walking over to the bar. “What’ll it be? Pinot Grigio? Dom Perignon? Whiskey on ice?”
“Just water for me, thank you.”
His grin widens and he pops the bottle of Dom Perignon, pouring two flutes. “Oh no you don’t, gorgeous. You promised me one drink together.”
“I said we needed to talk, that’s what we agreed to.”
“Just one. Then I’ll take you home.”
Ace is going to YOLO me right over the edge if I’m not careful, but what the hell. I feel like I’m living inside in a dream right now. “All right, just one.”
He hands me a flute and I take it. Then he clinks his glass against mine. His blue gaze is playful. “To stars aligning.” His shirt sleeves are rolled up, revealing the arm porn of his hair-dusted, muscular forearms.
The same ones I clung to as he was fucking me with that ginormous cock.
Stop it.
His scent is clean and woodsy, his hair still barely damp from a shower.
Which reminds me that I’m still in my work clothes after a very busy day—which happened to include getting laid with no protection by my boss on his mahogany desk.
I’m still not wearing any panties.
I ignore the fact that Ace is clearly also remembering our morning relapse. His eyes rove over every inch of my body as I take in the luxurious surroundings.
“Take a seat,” he offers.
I do, and he sits next to me on the leather couch. Our knees aren’t quite touching and I make a point to keep my thigh from rubbing against his. “Your apartment is very nice.” It’s so much of an understatement it’s laughable.
“I bought it a few years ago, right after we started really getting some traction. Unfortunately my father never got to see it. He died before things got going for us.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugs it off but I get the feeling there were layers to his relationship with his father. “Tell me about your family. Are your parents still in Austin?”
“My mother is. My father walked out on us a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. That’s tough.”
“We were better off without him.”
