Page 3 of Insatiable Bachelor (Bachelor Tower 1)
“So, your sister is a CFO? Which company?” I ask, trying to bring some civility to this shit show and distance myself from Randy.
“Although I’d love to have this conversation another time, it has been a long day.” She references her night attire as if it’s a deterrent and not the invitation I see it as. I’d pop the buttons right off that cute little outfit with one swipe.
“Penny,” I say, letting her name slide across my tongue. Her eyes flash and lock with mine as she bats her long lashes my way.
With only that one fiery look, I can see my hands gripping her thighs as I part her legs and yank her to me. If she likes the way I say her name she’ll love the way I eat her pussy. When I make her come, when I lap up every bit of her sweetness, she won’t know what hit her. It’s clear to me, just from that long beat that passed between us. It’s on. I’ll have her.
“Get dressed,” Randy cuts in, pouring ice water on our scorching moment. “I’ll buy you a drink downstairs.”
“Looks like you already have a drinking buddy,” she says, tipping her chin in my direction and the glass of Scotch I’m still holding.
“Forget him. He’s a douche.” Randy tries to eclipse me by puffing up his chest but he’s too scrawny to block me. “Let’s make this a party for two.”
“Sounds about right,” Penny agrees, her green eyes meeting mine. I’m rock hard for her. If she’s agreeing to dropping this to a party of two, she’s clearly talking about me and her. I’m quick to realize how wrong I am as she dismisses us both with a sarcastic smile. “Enjoy each other.”
The door slams an inch from Randy’s nose, and I watch the dumb ass try to figure out what just happened.
“What a bitch,” he grumbles as he straightens his tie and slinks away. “You coming to the bar? Let’s go get some ass that doesn’t come with an attitude.”
Thankfully he doesn’t notice I’m hard as fuck right now for that attitude.
I should go. I could be back up here in an hour, balls deep in some woman I’ll call cupcake so I don’t have to learn her name. The rules would be clear, like always. She’d know I didn’t want her spending the night. In return, I’d uncork my best bottle of red wine. She’d have an orgasm or two and bragging rights of making it into the Bachelor Tower, and I’d get Penny out of my head. Win/win.
Penny. Fuck. Even her name is adorable.
I should be fantasizing about some tiny black thong tossed by my bed. Instead, I can’t shake those fucking cotton pajamas. Her wet hair would brush over my chest as she rode me, those plump lips would look even sweeter wrapped around my cock.
When I hear the chime of the elevator in the distance, I know Randy is gone.
Downstairs is a slam dunk. Mindless. Easy. Mine for the taking.
So why the fuck am I knocking on Penny’s door again?
CHAPTER FOUR
Dalton
“He’s an ass,” I explain, gesturing toward the direction Randy retreated.
“Okay,” she replies, her eyes wide with expectation. “Thanks?” It’s obvious she’s wondering why the hell I’m back. That makes two of us.
“Give your sister a heads-up.” I’m telling myself I’m doing a public service. Yeah, I want to fuck her, but that doesn’t mean she won’t benefit from a reality check. “She should start looking for a new place to live.”
“She has a place.” Penny gestures inside the apartment as though she’s talking to someone who needs visual aids to understand. The movement sends her tits jiggling beneath her cotton nightshirt and I wonder if every woman looks this sexy in pajamas or if it’s just her. The idea that it might be just her is scary as all hell. “Thanks for your concern,” she says, clearly not meaning it.
Shit, she’s about to close the door. “How long will she be gone?”
Penny’s eyes narrow as if I asked her for her social security number and her mother’s maiden name.
“If it’s more than a week, she won’t have a place by the time she gets back.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a fact. This is an all-male building. It has been for decades. I get what she’s trying to do, but it’s pointless.”
“It used to be all-male. It’s not anymore.”
She’s outright glaring at me now, and it’s so fucking hot. I know women don’t like to hear it, but damn, sometimes a little fire lights a woman up. I remind myself that my presence at her door is partially a good deed. I’m not big on charity, but just because I don’t want Penny or her sister living next door doesn’t mean I want them thrown to the curb either. Finding real estate in the city is a bitch, and if she doesn’t start now, it could be a nightmare when they’re tossed out of here. “I know people with substantial real estate holdings in the city. Tell me an area she’d like to live in, and I can make it happen.”
She puts her hands on her hips which—thank you, God—strains the cloth of her nightshirt over her excited nipples. That’s a good sign. She may not like me, but she wants to fuck me. We’re making progress. “There’s no good way to say this. No woman has ever lived in this building. No woman will ever live in this building.”
“Wow. Personally, I can’t imagine a woman wanting to. You’re a clear example of what happens when testosterone goes unchecked. However, my sister is brilliant. I’ve seen her stack of legal documents and the notarized lease agreement that tells a different story. She won’t get thrown out.”
If I gave a shit about anyone, I’d actually feel a little sorry for Penny. “Do you know who lives here?” There are over a dozen high-powered lawyers, one judge, the sons of three powerful politicians, and those are just the beginning of the resistance. “Your sister could have signed her name on the constitution, and they’d nullify it. She needs to look for a new place to live.”
“And you need to—” The smoke alarm in her apartment starts to blare. This is an older building, but it’s been completely upgraded with the latest technology. “Shit, I forgot I was cooking.”
I don’t smell smoke yet, and that’s a good sign. “The alarm system is wired into the fire department. You have about sixty seconds to shut it down before they head this way and make a scene . . .”
“Damn,” she gasps, then turns on her heel, leaving the door open, and sprints back inside. It’s not an invitation, but I know how to shut the alarm down quicker than she will, so I follow her in. “Where is it? How do I turn it off?” she calls desperately over her shoulder.
“Front closet.” I pull open the door, revealing the emergency key pad and enter an override code. The siren stops. Now I smell the smoke. Whatever she had planned for dinner must be charred to shit. “I’d pull whatever you have in the oven out before this goes off again.”
Her flushed cheeks blaze a little hotter as she moves to the kitchen and wrestles on the oven mitts. I follow her because she hasn’t kicked me out, and who knows how fast we could make it from the kitchen to her bed. She opens the stove and bends to reach inside. Until that moment, I didn’t realize pajama bottoms could cling so deliciously to a woman’s ass. I lean over her and turn on the exhaust fan above the stove. She’s the perfect height to fuck from behind. It’s like it was meant to be. That’s about as close to serendipity as I’m willing to g
et.
“Thanks.” Penny throws a chicken breast that’s burnt to a crisp into the sink and turns the faucet on. “Kylie is going to kill me if she finds out about this. I haven’t even made it one day without almost burning the place down.”
“No reason for her to find out. There’s a delay on the alarm. No one will know unless you tell them,” I say, leaning myself against the granite counter top. This kitchen is exactly the same layout as mine, which is handy. I know the counter height is perfect for bending a woman over and fucking her from behind. The little table in the corner, what did my last hookup call it? A breakfast nook? It doubles as a foreplay playground. I imagine Penny in the chair. Then sprawled on the table. I never tire of pleasuring a woman. And I’d love to pleasure a woman like Penny.
I watch her skillfully spin her long hair into a ponytail and I think about grabbing it tightly while she deep-throats my cock. It’s a good thing women can’t read minds. My life would be one big slap fest. “Looks like you need a new dinner.”
“Yeah,” she sighs, dipping her head down in defeat as she pokes the blackened chicken with a fork.
“I’ll order something.” I don’t ask if she wants me to. I don’t ask what she likes to eat. I just grab my cell and dial the kitchen downstairs. “It’s Dalton. Send up my usual, but make it a double. Send it to 1421 instead of my apartment.”
“Ah . . . I didn’t say—”
“You’re welcome.” I know damn well she was about to protest, not thank me. “It’ll be up in a few minutes. I’d ask if you want to change into something more comfortable but I’m pretty sure fluffy cotton pajamas with pink hearts on them is about as comfortable as it gets.”
She looks down at her attire and cringes. I could have told her what I really thought of her clothes, but she’s not ready to hear it. “You should go. Please cancel that dinner order.”
