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“I wanted to let you know I’ll be back soon to help you pick out a wedding dress. I expect you to be showered by the time I get there,” he said, and the wall clicked behind me. I turned and watched as the bookcase along the wall slid to the side, revealing what appeared to be a grand penthouse apartment behind it.
That was convenient.
“I’m not going to marry you. I’m not your bride,” I argued.
“Obey me, Zoe. You won’t like what happens if you don’t. Then again, maybe you will. I’ve seen firsthand just how wet that little pussy gets when you’ve been properly handled,” he said and before I could scream some sort of insulting retort back at him, he hung up the phone like a right proper fucking bastard.
That didn’t stop me from literally shrieking with my fury. I wanted to throw my phone, but that wouldn’t solve anything. With a sigh, I walked toward the wall, curious enough to put aside my anger for a hot second.
I paused at the doorway, just looking into the penthouse suite for a moment and taking it all in. If I had thought his office was impressive, his apartment was that much grander. There was a massive living room area with the biggest television I’d ever seen. The couches were plush and luxurious, some more like beds than loveseats with more soft fur-covered pillows than I could count. In the center of the room was a glass coffee table with a single full glass of wine and a folded piece of paper.
I stared at it, trying to decide if drinking it would be risky. Grayson didn’t seem like a killer. Whoever he really was, I was pretty sure that he wouldn’t poison me.
Fuck it. I was going to drink it.
I walked over and reached for the folded piece of paper.
Zoe,
Please enjoy a glass of your favorite wine. All your favorite toiletries are waiting for you in the master bathroom. Enjoy yourself.
Grayson
I furrowed my brow, trying to figure out how he’d know what my favorite wine was. There wasn’t a chance in hell. I liked a very small vineyard out of Napa Valley and the only way to get it was at the winery itself. They weren’t well known enough to be sold in stores and it was a long car drive every time I wanted to go and buy a few bottles, but I did it because it was that good.
I took a sip and lo and behold, I recognized the taste. It was just as delightful as it always was, and I stood there for several long moments just trying to figure out if I liked that he knew my favorite wine without me telling him or if it was something that should terrify me.
It definitely shouldn’t be making my pussy wet.
I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth before I took another sip. I decided it didn’t much matter. He was a rich bastard. If anything, he’d probably just bought that information off of someone. Actually, the most likely option would be that he’d tracked down the vineyard using my credit card statements or something. He probably owned those companies too.
With a sigh, I kicked off my heels. They were starting to hurt my feet. I wandered past the living room, finding a chef’s kitchen just down the hall. The countertops were made of the most gorgeous marble I’d ever seen. There were enough stainless-steel appliances to run a small restaurant and when I opened the fridge, it was fully stocked with the freshest looking fruit and vegetables, as well as several bottles of expensive champagne. There were even a few bottles of white wine.
My stomach growled.
My gaze dipped and there was a small board covered with sliced cheeses and olives. I grabbed it and pulled it out. I hoped that it would annoy him that I was going to eat some of it.
I popped a huge green olive in my mouth and moaned at the decadent taste of it. It was perfect.
Money certainly bought some pretty delicious things. I picked up a slice of creamy-looking cheese. I didn’t know much about all the different kinds, but it would probably be just as delicious as the olive was. When I took my first bite, the milky flavors burst across my tongue, and I couldn’t help but moan in delight.
I ate several more pieces, knowing that every single bite of it was costing him money. When I’d had my fill, I put it back in the fridge and continued to explore the rest of his apartment. I’d remember it was there later if I was still a prisoner in this place.
As I walked through the ritzy place, I ran my fingers along the couches, I touched the blankets folded on the ledges, as well as the soft pillows thrown haphazardly across them. All the different fabrics were luxuriously soft, and I couldn’t get enough of them. Eventually, I wandered down a hallway, enjoying the scenic paintings on the walls as well as several vases full of fresh blooming flowers along the way.
I found a large guestroom and a number of exquisitely decorated bathrooms. There was another sitting room, a cozy theater room, and a big room with a pool table, complete with a nice full-length bar. Finally, I found the master bedroom at the end of the hall, and it took my breath away.
The walls were painted in a soft blue that reminded me of the dimming horizon shortly after sunset. The crown molding was painted a warm creamy white. The dark wood of the massive king bed stood out against the wall—imposing and magnificently perfect. I couldn’t help myself as I reached out to touch it, gliding my fingers along the gentle curve of the wood. It was carved, probably by hand, but it wasn’t overdone. It was simple and that made it much more of a centerpiece to admire.
There were matching dark wood nightstands to either side of the bed. There was a loveseat against the wall that was draped with a soft fluffy gray blanket, along with a fair number of soft pillows too. The whole room was masterfully done. I couldn’t have done it better myself. There was an open door to the right side, and I wandered inside, finding a master closet that was as big as my own bedroom back home. There were a terrific number of expensive suits, more ties than I could possibly count, as well as a whole wall of feminine dresses and skirt
s. I strode over to them in wonder, absentmindedly looking at the size.
The first was my size. As was the second. And the third. I continued down the line. Every single one seemed to be made to my specifications and I couldn’t decide if I should be impressed or terrified or if this was just some weird coincidence.
Maybe he had a type. Maybe these dresses weren’t for me. My brain was trying every leap to make the impossibility of my current situation work in my head, but honestly nothing really made this make sense. With a sigh, I let go of the blue dress that had first caught my attention and continued, finding the attached master bathroom next.
The marble tiles beneath my feet were heated and covered in a brilliant gray veining that carried on through the rest of the room. There was a double vanity with enough space for a whole baseball team and the jetted tub was sunken into a beautifully tiled grotto. The shower was the masterpiece of the whole room though. It was set on a glassed-in balcony that overlooked the city, epically revealing for anyone that happened to look up from the ground to the penthouse suite. It was a rain shower and I found myself looking at it with a sense of yearning, then I remembered what he had said. Demanded… really.
