Chapter 32
PEPPER
“I have a meeting this afternoon, but I thought we could work from here this morning?”
The industrial freight elevator rattles as it carries me and Chase up to the top floor of a remodeled Tribeca warehouse.
I peel back the sleeve of my shirt to check the time. “Where is here?”
The air feels heavy after my impromptu exit last night, and I’m finding it rather difficult to look at him.
“My apartment.”
My gaze bounces to his, stomach squirming. This shouldn’t be cause for alarm, he’s been to my place a handful of times after all, but somehow being in his personal space feels daunting. He lifts one eyebrow in silent question, but I keep my mouth shut and turn to face the doors again.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Despite the swirling sensation in my gut, I almost laugh. “Am I really that transparent?”
“To me? Kinda.” I slide my eyes sideways to see him smiling at me.
The tension is cut when the doors slide open, and my attention is pulled away by his large loft-conversion apartment spread out in front of us.
“Wow,” I breathe, taking a step forward and gazing up at the soaring thirteen-foot ceilings threaded with exposed steel ductwork and original timber beams darkened with age.
So this is where one of the city’s biggest billionaires calls home.
It’s way more modest than I would have expected.
I mean, not that modest considering this area must go for a hefty buck, but I had always pictured him living in a glitzy high-rise penthouse, or perhaps a grand house on the outskirts with a private tennis court.
You get the gist, something with chandeliers and velvet drapes.
Instead he has a kitchen tucked into one corner of the open-plan space, a pool table…a fucking vintage Pac-Man arcade machine, and a large L-shaped couch before a short corridor dotted with oversized pivot doors.
“This building used to be a wool mill in the early nineteen hundreds.” He steps into the apartment beside me, his polished shoes hitting the dark glossed floorboards.
I rub my hand along the exposed red brick by the elevator, feeling the rough material scuff my palm, and take a moment to imagine what these walls have seen.
How smog and dusky light from the Industrial Revolution might have poured in from the windows, lighting up the two structural cast-iron columns that flank the space.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Be sure to tell that to my mother next time you see her.” He kicks off his shoes beside the door and flings his suit jacket onto the kitchen island. “She thinks this place is a tasteless bachelor pad.”
“I mean, considering you have a basketball net on the wall over there, I’d have to agree with the bachelor pad part.” I laugh, turning to face him. “But it’s not tasteless, this building has so much character.”
He pulls two water bottles from the large steel refrigerator and walks over to hand me one, warmth splashing his features. I take the bottle, my heart beating a little faster as he lifts his vacant hand to brush the backs of his knuckles down my cheek.
“Are you okay?”
I’m not sure how to answer that question.
On the one hand, I hadn’t realized how burnt out I’d been before the Hamptons, juggling a high-pressure job, figuring out how to be a guardian, and trying to satiate that ever thrumming need to create a bit more balance in this fucked-up world.
A big part of me feels more relaxed than I have in years, but there is also this jiggling part of me that is fighting back against whatever this thing is between us.
“Unsure,” I say truthfully.
“Okay.” He twists off the cap and takes a pull of water. “What can I do to help?”
My stomach flip-flops uneasily. People like me and Chase don’t end up together. We’re not just from different worlds, we’re from different universes. Maybe it’s better to end this now, chalk it up to a vacation fling that stays on the beach.
“I don’t know.”
He assesses me carefully and my cheeks burn, aware that talking to me right now must be like trying to have a conversation with a fucking plank.
“I’m not trying to be difficult, I just feel all kinds of jumbled in here.” I tap my temple and offer him a weak grimace.
“I get that sometimes.” He nods and makes a small noise at the back of his throat. “Come on then, give it to me.”
“What?”
“Your rules.”
“My rules?” I spin, frowning at him where he leans casually back against the island with his ankles crossed, taking another sip of water.
He nods, twisting the cap back on. “Whatever you need for this to continue and not run from it.”
I swallow. How the fuck does he do that? Pluck thoughts right out of my head like they’re there for his viewing pleasure. “Perhaps it would be best—”
“Don’t give me that shit again,” he cuts across me firmly, a flare of something dark bursting in his irises as he ditches his bottle and stalks toward me.
“We can’t put this genie back in the lamp, Peppercorn.
I’ve tasted how sweet that pussy is and I’ll never forget.
” He grips my chin, tilting it up to meet a molasses gaze that now smolders.
“Don’t do that.” A sharp awareness blossoms between my legs. He lifts one brow in question and I continue. “I can’t think straight when you talk dirty.”
“Maybe that’s my plan.” He steps closer and I move back simultaneously. He flashes me a wicked grin, his masculine scent invading my senses as he prowls forward again, plucking the bottle from my hand and throwing it somewhere that has a soft landing.
“You’re in charge, Peppercorn.” He backs me up until my back hits something solid, and my hands leap to curl around its edges. Smooth and fuzzy…the felt on the pool table. “All you have to do is tell me what you need.”
“I need…I need…” My cheeks flame as I stutter, entranced as he lifts his hand to cup my neck and curls his hand tightly into the back of my hair.
“Tell me, baby.” He tugs it, angling my head with just the right amount of rough for me to slicken against my panties.
“I need to not overcomplicate things.”
“Mhm, what else?” He brushes his lips over mine whisper-soft, and I whimper into his mouth, my nipples turning to hard points.
“And I can't have you staying over at my place,” I blurt out, cringing as the words hang in the air. “It’s Sunny’s space too and I don’t feel comfortable—”
“You don’t need to explain,” he cuts me off. “What else?”
“I need…”
He slips his mouth down to my jaw, nipping softly, and I totally lose track. Hell, the only thing I need right now is him. My breath heaves, my nipples sensitive against my bra and every logical thought flitting out of the window as he presses his lean, hard body against me.
“Do you need to be called my good girl?” he teases in deep gravel, sucking softly on the sensitive spot below my jaw.
My legs wobble, leaning into him. Oh god. “Yes.”
He scores his teeth along my skin, sending a cascade of shivers down my spine. The next thing I know, his warm breath is at my ear. “Then get on your knees and earn it, baby.”
I moan, not caring how loud it sounds in the silent apartment, not caring about anything other than the way this man makes me feel. Desired. Worshipped. Dominated. He applies pressure to his grip in my hair, guiding me softly to my knees before him so I can see just how turned on he is.
His thick erection packs the front of his pants, straining his zipper. I slide my tongue along my lower lip, eyeing it eagerly.
“My greedy girl,” Chase growls as I reach for the button at the top, flicking it open and sliding down his zipper.
Slipping into his black boxer briefs, I wrap my hand around the heat of his thick shaft and glance up before I do anything further.
If I weren’t already on my knees, the sight before me might put me there.
He towers above, unraveling his tie and unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a hard line of muscle, chiseled features filled with molten gratification as he gazes at me beneath him.
“You look so fucking perfect like this.” He drags his thumb along my lower lip, pressing it inside.
I swirl my tongue around it, and he pulses in my hand with a soft grunt. My thighs squeeze, desperately seeking some friction. I pull his length free, dipping my gaze to marvel at the sheer size of it. I should be used to it by now, but it still makes me question how the hell it all fits.
A wet pop splits the air as I release his thumb and flick my tongue up the underside of his broad crown instead. Hot flashes of red crest high cheekbones as his mouth falls open on a harsh groan.
“And what is it you need, Wolfie?” I kiss the very tip, and watch it bob in front of me.
“I need you, Pepper. I need everything about you from that perfect mouth of yours, to your pretty little pussy. I need those sexy little sounds you make, and the way your juices drip all over me when you come for the fifth time.”
My heart gallops, adrenaline and desire zipping through my bloodstream like hot lead. This man’s fucking mouth.
“Now spit on this dick, open those plump lips, and take it,” he orders, using both of his hands to gather up my hair to the back of my head, thick muscle flexing in his arms and chest.
I whimper, pooling spit into my mouth and obeying his wish, using my hands to spread it all over his length.
He flexes his hips into my hands a little, right before I close my mouth around the tip of his dick and swirl my tongue around the width of him. He hisses, letting out a small curse and gripping my hair tighter as he slides in further.
“That’s it, baby, so fucking good. Reach down and touch yourself.”
I leap to it, leaving one hand cupping his base and the other slipping between my thighs. Holy hell, I can feel my own wetness through my jeans.
“Imagine it’s my hand there.”
I do as he wishes, bobbing my head down on his cock as I press against that sweet knot of pressure between my thighs, a soft moan muffled around him.