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“Still. I have my orders.”
Is that the only reason he’s staying? Duh, of course it is.
A deep, dark notion surges through me at us being here alone together.
This man is the epitome of sex on a stick.
He’s so fucking hot…and I’m here all alone with him in this big swanky apartment with a private pool and a sun deck? What in the world do I have to complain about? It’s more like a self-imposed holiday, rather than a prison camp. Maybe I should send my dad a quiche and a bottle of wine.
I hug myself. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
I join Rock out on the patio, looking down at the city traffic. We’re so high up it makes me dizzy.
“You don’t like heights?” he asks, nodding toward me.
I shake my head. “Never have.”
“Yet you’re in a penthouse.”
“Safest place in the building.”
His lips twitch again. “Guess that’s true.”
I stand in the doorway and avoid looking over the edge. It makes my legs feel weak. “So, what’s for dinner?”
He cocks his head. “Shit on a stick?”
“That doesn’t sound appealing. I’m sure we could hire a chef to make meals.”
He shakes his head. “Nobody else is allowed in the apartment,” he tells me, tone firm. I look at him in surprise. He’s not kidding.
“Not even DoorDash?”
“Nope. You want take-out? I’ve gotta go get it.”
“Like my little errand boy?”
He steps toward me, and I don’t move back. He’s so close to me that I forget how to breathe.
“Do I look like the type of man who’s a little errand boy, Trouble?”
My heart rate accelerates. “Maybe.”
He doesn’t move and we’re toe to toe. “No maybes about it. I don’t run around for anyone, got me? I’m not here to be your maid.”
I try not to smile, but I can’t help it.
“You think that’s funny?” He quirks an eyebrow.
I shake my head but fail at smiling. “Sorry. I’m not laughing. It's just…the image of you in a maid’s outfit…a frilly little apron on…” Holy fuck… What the fuck is wrong with me? And I haven’t even been drinking…
His eyes dip to my lips and my breathing hitches in my chest. Oh, fuck… His eyes look heated and his breathing is rapidly increasing…a lot like mine.
Is he… Is he attracted to me, too?
“If I were your maid, Aspyn, I wouldn’t be botherin’ with clothes, sweetheart. Just so you know.”
My eyes go wide as he smirks, stepping around me as I realize I’m pressed right against the glass of the window behind me.
