We walked out to the penthouse reception area. Before we stepped into the elevator, I looked at my reflection in the glossy black of the marble walls, and tried to put myself together so I didn’t look like a girl who’d had crazy, wild sex.I probably looked alright, but to my mind at that moment, anybody who saw me would instantly know. Like there was a blinking neon sign over my head: Just Had Sex On Boardroom Floor.Oh God, I was going to have to do the Walk of Shame in front of Stanley, and it wasn’t even morning.I sighed and got in the elevator with Connor.“Still freaking out?” he grinned.“Yes.”“Let me see if I can take your mind off it.”Then he raked his fingers down ever single button for ever single floor. They all lit up.Not exactly what I was expecting.“What did you do that for?!” I cried out.“So I’d have a little more time for this.”When they say ‘sweep a girl off her feet,’ I always thought it was an expression. I mean, it is an expression.Except when it happens l
The first thing I noticed was the plush leather of the seats – decadent, sinful, sensual. And the space! It felt like the car was way wider than normal. I could have stretched out in here and… uh… done stuff with room to spare.I scooted across the seat as Connor moved in beside me and closed the door.He pressed a button on a console in the door and spoke.“Hey, Johnny, take us up to the Strip, would you?”The limo purred into action, gliding like oil on ice as it merged into traffic.The Strip?!“We’re going to a strip club?” I asked, my eyes wide. I hadn’t signed on for that.Connor grinned. “We can if you want, but I was thinking of the Sunset Strip. West Hollywood? Clubs, bars, fine dining?”“Oh.”I felt both relieved and incredibly embarrassed at the same time.“Would you like a drink?” he asked.“S-sure,” I stammered, totally thrown off my game – not only by the strip club thing, but by the environment. The only time I’d ever ridden in a limo was for prom, and that was a 20-yea
“Make it happen.”“‘By any means necessary,’” Sebastian groaned. It sounded like he was quoting someone – and I was guessing it was Connor.“Yup. By the way, I’m hungry – you hungry?” he asked me.I actually hadn’t noticed it because of all the craziness that had preceded this moment – but when he asked, I realized I was. I nodded.“You like filet mignon? Lobster? You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”“Uh… yes, yes, and no,” I answered, a little stunned. I think the last time I’d had filet mignon, it was to celebrate my college graduation. Lobster, I couldn’t even remember. Both of them together at one time? As they say in New York, fuhgedabboudit.Connor went back to Sebastian. “Have room service deliver my usual, times two, ten minutes after check-in.”There was another labored sigh. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance of me persuading you to take the flight to New York.”“Nope.”“Reschedule?”“Yep.”“FINE,” the voice snapped, then switched to a much nicer tone as it addressed me. “Mi
When I saw the guy who had opened the door, my first impression was Suit and tie – way EXPENSIVE suit and tie.My second impression was Huh, Asian guy.My third impression was Holy CRAP, he’s got a GUN!It was just a glimpse, but I saw the holster under the Armani jacket, and the flash of grey metal. Then the jacket resettled and the gun was gone.I froze on the seat, terrified.I don’t like guns.I’m especially not fond of strange men with guns.He looked down at me and extended his arm to help me out of the limo. He was young and handsome, probably Japanese, late 20’s, with longish hair that covered his ears and a neatly trimmed goatee with mustache.When I didn’t take his hand, he smiled and looked over the roof of the car. “I think the lady’s scared of me, boss,” he said in a flat, midwestern accent.“And well she should be. You’re a very scary person,” Connor agreed. He sounded like he was already outside the car.“That’s what you pay me for,” the man laughed.I glanced over – Co
The lobby was magnificent. Opulent. Luxurious. Take your pick of over-the-top adjectives.The floor was white marble inlaid with darker patterns of black – maybe obsidian? I had no idea. But the effect was beautiful.The chandeliers were round, massive bodies made up of tiny frosted glass cylinders that diffused the light and transformed what could have been cold and imposing into warm and sensual. They looked like grape clusters of long, glass tubes, if that makes any sense. Or a collection of glass Pan pipes (you know, what the little faun guy plays in Greek paintings?) with light spilling out of them, rather than sound.Throughout the lobby were plush leather chairs arranged in small enclaves around short mahogany tables. Here and there a few people waited, texting on their smart phones or reading their iPads. Others held cocktails and glasses of wine as they chatted and laughed. On all sides were gorgeous arrangements of orchids and exotic plants – real ones. Nothing fake in here
The inside of the penthouse was entirely different from the hotel, but no less amazing. Maybe even more.The first thing that hit me was all the glass. As in, almost every wall had at least one gigantic window that was at least thirty feet long. The city lights sparkled outside like diamonds on black velvet. I walked over and gazed down at Sunset Boulevard. Two hundred feet below, club-goers marched along the sidewalks like little columns of ants, and the jam-packed traffic moved along an inch at a time.On the opposite side of the massive apartment, I could see the Hollywood Hills. In case you haven’t been to LA, just north of Hollywood is a very, very small mountain range that extends for about four or five miles. And on its slopes are some of the most expensive homes in Los Angeles outside of Beverly Hills and Bel Air. A lot of young, hip actors and directors and producers live up there – along with real estate moguls and doctors trying to be young and hip. Plus the occasional drug
When I came out of the bedroom, I surveyed the rest of the penthouse: plush leather sectional couches. A widescreen TV bigger (and thinner) than I’d ever seen before. A magnificent dining table. And most surprising of all, a pool of water in the floor that glowed sapphire blue.That’s when I realized that the pool – about ten feet square – extended under the glass walls to the outside, where it joined a much larger swimming pool on a private patio. Sumptuous outdoor chairs and more potted jungle plants ringed the glowing blue water. I could start in here, swim under the glass wall, and end up outside with a few strokes.Johnny saw me looking at the pool. “Yeah, I’m not too fond of that,” he said to Connor.Connor was over by the sofa taking off his tie and jacket. I had a lovely little flashback to less than an hour ago as he shrugged off his clothes. “Relax, there’s a gate,” he told Johnny.I looked closer. Sure enough, a sturdy metal gate extended from the bottom of the tiled pool
We ate mostly in silence. At first.To tell the truth, I was incredibly self-conscious. I didn’t want to look like a pig, so I took tiny, ladylike bites.Also, I was obsessing over my table manners. I’m a fried chicken, lick-my-fingers kind of girl. I didn’t eat out in fancy restaurants growing up, so I was a little worried about whether I was using the right fork and whatnot. My fears were justifiable, seeing as the food was fancier and more extravagant than anything I’d tasted in years – maybe ever.Plus there was that whole ‘I just slept with this guy and he probably does this with every hot woman he meets’ voice muttering louder and louder in my head.Which made me feel even worse, because I am so not hot. Eventually I began wondering why he had even bothered with me.He sat back and took a sip of wine. “You look absolutely miserable.”I looked up at him in surprise. “What? No. I’m fine.”“Really.” His tone indicated he didn’t believe me.“Yes, really,” I said testily.“What’s go