“Knox and me. He helped me lay out the plans for this place. He’s my head of security, so it was important to have his input on the layout.”
“Makes sense.” I nod.
“Shall we?” He gestures to the elevator.
“That key I gave you is for the elevator. Just insert it in here and hit the 2A button.”
I try to pay attention, but the flashback of us in the elevator the first time we saw each other replays in my mind. That same intoxicating scent of his cologne immediately skates a warm sensation through me, and my core blazes like an eternal flame that only awakens for him. Shifting a little, I try to stifle my intrusive thoughts. I swallow as the air seems to get heavier.
“Myssa?” he says, right when I hear the ding of the elevator, and the doors start to open.
“Got it,” I say, as I quickly make my way out to put space between us.What was I thinking? This is so not a good idea.Zayne reaches past me to the door, and as he unlocks it, and pushes it open gesturing for me to go first.
My cheeks heat, and I nod, trying not to make eye contact.
Taking a few steps inside, I just stand there in awe. The loft is so much bigger than I expected. Windows stretch from floor to ceiling on the outer wall, and the exposed brick on the inner wall has been painted black. His style mirrors the club, with pops of red gothic paintings, and a red Victorian carpet that stretches under the couch over dark hardwood floors. The kitchen is very sleek with modern fixtures, matching the color scheme throughout, and a white marble countertop island separates the living area from the kitchen.
“This is amazing.” I say taking it all in.
“Thanks, let me take you to your room,” he says, pulling in my suitcase.
He directs me to the right, then up a few stairs to a small hallway. I follow him as he walks me into a spacious bedroom with a large king size bed, a dark wood dresser in the corner, asmall walk-in closet, and an ensuite bathroom, complete with a soaking tub and a stand-in shower.
“A girl can get used to this,” I mumble under my breath, mesmerized by the view.
He rolls my suitcase into the closet and lays my backpack on the bed. He stands there for a minute, with his hands shoved into his pockets.
“I’ll leave you to it, then, and when you're done, we can order some dinner.I have to be at the club at around nine for a few hours. You are welcome to come by if you’d like. Feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen.” He walks toward the door.
“Ok, sounds good.”
I ask, “So, um, where is your bedroom?” I stumble over my words overcome by curiosity. “I mean, you know, in case I need you.”
He turns by the door and says, “Right there.” He points at the door directly across from mine.
“Oh,” I say shyly.
“Call me if you need anything,” he says. “I’m gonna jump in the shower real quick.”
Standing there for a second, I sulk. How am I supposed to concentrate on what I’m doing, knowing he’s gonna be naked, and wet, in a shower, just feet away from me? That visual is something I can’t shake, nor do I want to.Scolding myself for the millionth time, I force myself to focus on unpacking my clothes putting them in the closet and dresser and unpack my essentials in the bathroom from my backpack. He’s not interested; I reiterate to myself. But let’s be honest, that’s definitely not going to deter me from daydreaming.
Moments later, I stand at the door of my bedroom. To my surprise, Zayne’s bedroom door is wide open. Strange that he hasn’t closed the door while he has a guest in the house. But then again, maybe this is his norm, so he didn’t think anythingof it? I tiptoe over to the door, staring at the imaginary line that is drawn in the carpet between his room and the hallway, and I pause.
My logical mind sayswalk past and go downstairs to the living room.But my libido disagrees. That little bitch of a devil perches happily on my shoulder, taunting me.What’s a few steps? Maybe the bathroom door is open, too?
Feeling daring and a glutton for punishment, I slowly make my way past the threshold. As I get closer to the bathroom door, I notice it’s closed.Damnit.The water hitting the bottom of the tub sends my imagination into overdrive, thinking about him. I long to take in all his tattoos and see what his body looks like. Is it as delicious as I’ve been daydreaming about for weeks now? But it’s the moans I hear from the other side of the door that have me holding my breath, and my body ignites all over again.
He can’t be doing what I think he’s doing? I mean, maybe he slipped or something and needs help? The right thing would be to listen, just to make sure he’s ok…right?
As I lean a little closer, I barely breathe, pressing my ear to the wood. Suddenly, my phone vibrates with a chirp in my back pocket, and I let out a small squeak. I turn and run back to my room, throwing myself on my bed like the damn floor is lava. Jesus, I have reduced myself to acting like a fucking teenager. This arrangement is going to be pure torture.
Looking at my phone, I see a notification from Vix.
Vix: So how’s life with the boss?
Me: Awkward, but I’m here.
Vix: Are you by him right now?
