Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 58952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Which said a lot about the kind of man he truly was.
She thought about that spontaneous hug she’d given him that day at his office to express her gratitude, and how stiff and hesitant he’d been at first. It had been a quick embrace, but she’d been hyperaware of him the entire time, of his big, warm hands on her lower back and the heat of his solid, muscular body flush against hers. There was no denying the mutual desire that had flashed between them before she’d ended the hug.
One thing was for certain. There was nothing fake about the attraction and chemistry between them, which would at least go a long way in convincing her family that she and Chase were a couple. And for her quick weekend trip home, that was all she needed.
Chapter Five
As planned, the following Saturday evening, Lauren took an Uber to the address Chase had texted her, to a building in Manhattan’s Flatiron District, where he lived. After the driver dropped her off, she headed inside the upscale lobby and checked in with the doorman. Chase had already informed him she’d be arriving and he sent her up.
Since the elevator required a key card, the doorman used his. He punched the number for Chase’s floor, and she made the ride up alone, acutely aware of just how wealthy Chase had to be to live in not only this area of the city, but in this condominium. Even the air she breathed smelled like money.
He’d modestly referred to his place as an “apartment”, but as the doors slid open and she stepped directly into a foyer, which in turn led to a spacious living area that flowed into a ridiculously large chef’s kitchen, she recategorized his home as a penthouse. She’d known he was wealthy, but as she took in the massive floor plan and the unfettered view of the Flatiron District, the term filthy rich came to mind.
Lauren set her purse on the coffee table, knowing she was probably gawking, but she found herself awed by the wide-open views of the city and walls of windows that added a sense of space and light. Double doors opened out onto a terrace with potted plants and a sitting area, and while the October evening had a bit of a chill in the air, the lit gas firepit outside promised coziness and warmth.
The interior décor was just as understated as the man himself, painted and furnished in bright whites and grays, with a touch of navy blue here and there, and state-of-the-art finishes throughout. Modern conceptual pieces of artwork hung on the walls, but overall the place was uncluttered and tastefully designed.
“I see you found the place okay,” Chase said, snapping Lauren out of her awestruck moment.
“I did,” she replied, and followed the sound of his voice to the jaw-dropping kitchen, which was equipped with top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances, including one of those fancy French door refrigerators, a double oven, and an indoor grill. The countertops were a dark gray quartz, matching the obscenely large work island in the room.
And then there was the man himself standing on the other side of the counter, wearing a deep gray Henley and a pair of dark denim jeans—both no doubt designer brands because she couldn’t imagine a man like Chase purchasing anything from a mid-range department store. Her eyes were drawn to the way he’d pushed up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing his strong forearms, as he uncorked a bottle of wine, before traveling up to his face. Though his hair was a bit disheveled, like he’d been running his fingers through the strands, his jaw was smooth and clean shaven and she caught a hint of his enticing cologne in the air.
She was used to seeing him in expensive tailored suits, but she couldn’t deny that he looked equally hot in this more casual attire. He was always so well put together, exuding confidence and a sense of authority despite what he wore.
In comparison, she felt a bit frumpy in her own choice of clothing. She hadn’t wanted him to think she was trying to dress to impress him, and had opted for comfort over style. She’d chosen her favorite purple and well-worn light sweater top and a pair of soft, faded jeans. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail, and since she wasn’t much of a makeup girl on the weekends, she’d only used tinted moisturizer, a bit of mascara, and lip gloss.
But the way his gaze darkened as he looked at her caused a seductive heat to swirl in her belly, and her very neglected pussy clenched with that ever-present awareness that simmered between them.
She cleared her throat, and ignoring the warmth suffusing her cheeks, she walked more fully into the kitchen and toward him, inhaling the delicious scent of something savory. “This is an impressive setup,” she said, complimenting his culinary space as she ran a hand over the smooth quartz countertop. “Do you like to cook?”