When JP emailed the address last week, I didn’t put two and two together that he was referring to this skyscraper. Ninety floors of steel and glass towering over Manhattan, built for billionaires and influencers whose only struggle is deciding which private island to visit next.
And here I am, looking like a lost backpacker who took a wrong turn at Central Park.
Yet the whole battalion of security guards doesn’t even blink as I march toward the elevators. One even tosses me a smug smirk. I bundle up in my coat to cover my braless condition. The cool night air has sent my nipples into a military salute. I hightailed it out in a cab before Spider could wrap up. I have a lot of new space in my head right now and I don’t need to fill it with that.
As the glass elevator climbs higher and higher, so does my panic.
Quinn & Wolfe own properties scattered all over the city, and they’re known for providing temporary accommodations for relocated employees-but here?
What kind of batshittery is this?
Stepping off the elevator on the eightieth floor, my heart is lodged firmly in my throat. This is a mistake; I don’t belong in a place where the flower arrangements cost more than my apartment.
As I make my way across the glossy marble, my sneakers emit a mortifying squeak like mice being stepped on.
Taking a deep breath, I approach the unit number and fumble with the key, feeling more out of place than anywhere in my life.
The lock finally gives, and the door swings open.
“Holy hell,” I gasp, my eyes practically popping out of my skull as I peer into the apartment.
This is what New York money smells like. Chic, cream interiors, ceilings so high you’d need a megaphone to have a conversation, and a chandelier that looks like it’s made of Swarovski crystals that could do serious damage if it decided to detach.
“Lucy.”
The deep drawl makes me squeal. Whirling around, I suck in a sharp breath as JP saunters out from the apartment across the hall.
“Do you… live here?” I stammer, drinking in the sight of him.
Fuck. Me. Sideways.
I had this image in my head of him in a suit 24/7 like some type of CEO cyborg. I figured he probably bathed in his suits. Slept in the fucking things. Had special suit pajamas for bedtime and naughty time.
Oh no.
His chest is bare, a brilliant showcase of sexy bronzed muscles. Obscene.
And those sweatpants. Those scandalously low-hung sweatpants with that perfect V, practically begging my eyes downward, willing me to have an impromptu eye-fuck.
It’s clear that there’s a monster package tucked away in those sweatpants.
God, give me strength.
I can’t unsee this. This sight is seared into my brain, forever and ever amen.
“Yeah, this is my place. What’s going on?” He strides closer, towering over me as his eyes scan my face with concern and something else that sends shivers down my spine.
The hallway shrinks around us and my body seizes up under his gaze.
“Lucy? You okay? Why are you here at this hour?”
I clear my throat, trying to compose myself.
“I’m fine,” I croak, desperately trying not to ogle his distractingly fit body. “Couldn’t sleep. My roommate’s being a nuisance so I thought I’d take up your offer and come here. I’m really sorry, I can’t believe I woke you up. I had no idea you live in this building. I wouldn’t have…”
“Hey.” He lifts my chin with a finger, forcing my eyes to lock with his. I swear all the air is sucked right out of the hallway. “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t wake me. Couldn’t sleep either.” He pauses, an unreadable expression crossing his handsome features. “And believe me, I understand the torment of sleepless nights. Got a lot on my mind too.”
This sudden display of vulnerability has my tongue working without a filter. “So that’s the secret behind your constant scowl,” I blurt out, immediately clapping a hand over my mouth. “Oh God, I didn’t mean… Sleep deprivation. Blame it on that!”
To my surprise, a rich, deep chuckle echoes through the hallway. And holy hell does it sound good. A sexy rumble that wraps itself around me and makes my skin tingle.
My ovaries wave little white flags of surrender.
“That’s part of it. There’s more to it than that.”
I want to ask what keeps JP Wolfe awake at night but can’t find the courage.
He braces a hand against the doorframe, looming over me, all hard muscle and bare skin. Now I’m suddenly in dangerous proximity to his bare nipples.
Every woman wants to see what’s under those low-slung sweatpants. Probably every woman in America.
C’mon Lucy, eyes up.
His eyes smolder with lust and something dangerous. A cocky grin curves his lips. The bastard knows exactly what kind of effect he has on me. “You’re not the first to point out my apparent grumpiness.”
“Somehow I doubt many employees actually say it to your face,” I mutter.
“No.” His dark eyes gleam with amusement. “Only those… close to me.”
Heat creeps up my cheeks. Oops.
I hastily avert my gaze from that gorgeous chest.
“I thought you were in Vegas.”
“I was. For twenty-four hours or so. I had some things to do. Now I’m back.”
That, you are.
“This place,” I stammer, my breath hitching. “Is it seriously for employees?”
He smirks down at me. “Something like that. Consider it yours for as long as you need.”
My heart thumps erratically. “You didn’t mention that you were going to be my neighbor across the hall.”
He moves in closer, dark eyes devouring me like a man starved and I’m the only nourishment. His voice drops an octave. “Would you still have come if you knew?”
The air between us crackles. An urge to hurl myself into his arms hits me.
A slow, dangerous smile curves his lips as he places his other hand by my head, caging me in. The rush of his closeness, combined with the heady aroma of his cologne, sends my senses into overdrive.
“Yes,” I whisper, finally releasing my death grip on my bag.
“Good.” His voice is low.
For the second time, I hold my breath, thinking he’ll kiss me.
Instead, he says, “Everything you need is in the apartment-fresh towels, toiletries, the works. Don’t lug anything here.”
This is sweet, really. “This is too much. Hopefully, it’s just for one night. I’ll negotiate a peace treaty with my roommate tomorrow.”
“No need.”
He’s about to say more when his jaw suddenly locks, the heat of his gaze devouring my chest.
Oh, fuck.
I forgot my coat is hanging open and my nipples are proudly on display through my tee. Begging for attention.
His eyes zero in on them, hardening with arousal, and my unruly nipples fire off a salute, openly defying me.
Damn it.
The male equivalent of a rogue semi, that’s how it feels.
Slyly, I yank my coat shut, causing his throat to do a weird little dance before he re-centers on my face.
Is Wolfe actually flustered by me? The thought pleases me more than it should.
“Stay here for however long you like-or move in permanently if you want.”
Or at least till your nips calm down, his pretend voice growls in my head.
Is he serious? Me, living here? Right next to him?