Page 18

Yeah. Blackridge is definitely looking up.

The penthouse is the kind of place that screamsmoney. High ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, marble counters in the kitchen. I’m standing in the middle of it, arms crossed, pretending like I’m not impressed. Truth is, I am. The view alone is worth whatever obscene price tag this place has. Not that I’m about to let her know that.

Her heels click against the floor as she walks past me. Blonde hair, perfectly curled, bounces with each step. She’s wearing one of those pencil skirts that makes her look professional but still shows off every curve. Her blouse is silk, probably designer, and unbuttoned just enough to givea glimpse of cleavage. She’s been smiling at me like I’m the only guy she’s ever shown a house to.

“This kitchen is state-of-the-art,” she says, leaning against the counter and gesturing to the appliances like they’re part of a museum exhibit. “Wolf range, Sub-Zero fridge, custom cabinetry. Perfect for entertaining.”

“Do I look like a guy who entertains?” I smirk.

Her blue eyes sparkle as she laughs. “You never know. A place like this could change that.”

I glance back at the living room. It’s massive, open, modern. The kind of space that would look great in photos. But all I can think about is that couch in the corner and how good it’d look with someone bent over it.

“You’ve been in the city long?” she asks, stepping closer. Her heels click slower this time, deliberate.

“Long enough.” I slide my hands into my pockets, my leather jacket creaking with the movement.

Her gaze dips to my chest, where my fitted black T-shirt stretches tight. I paired it with dark jeans and my favorite boots, figuring I should at least look like I belong in a place like this. But I know what really caught her attention. It wasn’t the jacket or the boots. It was the car I rolled up in. A sleek, black McLaren. And to top it all off, I told her I would be paying for the house in cash.

“What do you think of the place so far?” Her voice softens, and she tilts her head, giving me that look.

“It’s not bad,” I say, letting my eyes trail down her body before snapping back to her face. “You got anything else to show me?”

Her lips part, and there’s a flush creeping up her neck now. She takes a step closer, and I can smell her perfume. Something expensive and sweet but not overpowering.

“Well, the master bedroom is through here,” she says, turning and walking towards the hallway. Her hips sway, and I follow, hands still in my pockets, trying not to grin.

The bedroom is just as ridiculous as the rest of the place. Huge bed, plush white bedding, and, of course, more of those giant windows overlooking the city.

“This view is incredible,” she says, walking to the glass and running her hand along the frame. She turns back to me, leaning against the wall now, the city lights making her blonde hair shine.

“It’s decent,” I say, stepping into the room.

Her smile widens. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

“You’re a tough one to impress, huh?”

“Not always.”

There’s a beat of silence. Just the sound of the city outside. She looks at me, and for a second, I think she’s going to keep it professional. But then she steps closer, crossing her arms under her chest, pushing her tits up just enough to catch my attention.

“You’re going to like it here,” she says, her voice low, almost teasing.

I take a step closer, closing the distance. “I think I already do.”

Her lips part again, and this time, I can see the way her breath hitches.

This is the moment where I’d normally pull back, remind myself to keep it cool. But something about her — the way she’s looking at me, the way she moves — it flips a switch in me.

“Show me the rest,” I say, my voice rougher now.

Her eyes flick to my mouth, and for a second, I think she’s going to say something. But instead, she turns on herheel and walks to the bed, sitting on the edge with her legs crossed.

“That depends,” she says, her voice light but her gaze anything but. “Are you buying?”

I step closer, towering over her now. “Guess that depends on how much I like the place.”

Her laugh is soft, breathy. And when she reaches out, brushing her fingers over the leather of my jacket, I know this penthouse isn’t the only thing I’m walking away with tonight.