Page 3 of The Penthouse


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As soon as I walk in, I’m greeted with the most amazing view of the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. The penthouse is so silent, I can practically hear my heart beating.

I do a quick sweep of the apartment to see what I’m working with, and—thank God—not much has to be done.

I begin cleaning the front part of the apartment first before moving to the bedrooms.

Down the hall are three doors that lead to three gigantic master suites with bathrooms and closets bigger than my own at home. I scoff at the extravagance of it all, maybe slightly envious of the fact that I’ll never get to live in a place like this.

I work quickly to finish the room, ignoring the ache in my bones and the throbbing in my feet.

I’m just finishing up wrapping the cord around the vacuum when a presence makes the back of my neck prickle. I turn around to find a man standing behind me. He’s impeccably dressed in a black Armani suit that fits him like a second skin.

“Hey, sorry to impose,” I say breathlessly, blowing a stray strand of hair out of my face. “I’m just finishing up now.”

I go to walk around him and leave, but he steps right into my path. I look up at him and see he’s staring down at me intently.

My stomach turns. “Is there something else you need?” I ask carefully.

He nods. “I’m starving,” he murmurs, his hazel eyes turning dark and heated. Golden blonde hair falls past his ears to just barely graze his broad shoulders. Dark stubble shadows the bottom half of his face, and a part of me wants to know what that could feel like on my body.

And between my legs.

My cheeks burn with embarrassment at the thought.

Swallowing, I take a step back, but he just continues to get in my space. His scent fills my nose—fresh soap like he just stepped out of the shower.

“Okay. I’ve heard the hotel restaurant is really good…”

He doesn’t say anything, just continues to stare at me.

“If you wanted to try it,” I continue quietly, slowly.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk. Damn, he’s sexy.

Terrifying, but sexy as hell.

He takes another step towards me until he’s so close I can feel his breath on my mouth. “It’s not food I’m starved for.”

I swallow again. “Oh.”

Suddenly, he grabs me by the waist and picks me up, tosses me on the bed, and starts kissing me. He’s so fast that I barely have a chance to register what’s even happening. I lay there for a minute, more confused than scared.

Is this really happening to me right now?

I have to push him off. This isn’t how I imagined my first time would be. I never thought I would evenhavea first time.

But I can’t seem to stop kissing him. God, his tongue is magic, and his stubble scratches my face deliciously.

He’s being so gentle and tender, not at all aggressive like I expected him to be. He’s at least six feet tall and could easily have his way with me…

Which I suppose is what he’s doing right now.

But I want this—I think? What he’s doing to me feels so good I don’t want him to stop.

He drags his tongue all along the inside of my mouth, bites my bottom lip then sucks the hurt away. I moan and grab at his shirt, pulling him closer to me. I’m so lost in what we’re doing that I don’t see the other two men until they’re standing right by the bed, looking down at me.

If his tongue wasn’t halfway down my throat, I would have screamed.

“Who is this?” the man on the right—a medium-toned black guy with dark brown hair buzzed close to his scalp—asks quietly, dark brown eyes never leaving mine. He cocks his head in a predatory manner, and my stomach dips.

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