Man Juice

“I’m at home,” he states.

“Where is home, might I ask?” I use my best flirtatious voice.

“Are you coming here?”

We go back and forth like the game I know this is.

“Sure.” I clear my throat, trying to even the tone a little.

“I live at The Avalon. Do you know it?”

“Wow,” I say. “Yes, I know exactly where that is.”

He’s not bluffing, after all; he is really a rich bastard.

“Okay, my apartment is on the forty-ninth floor,” he declares.

“I’ll see you in a few minutes,” I state, and feel the bubble of nervous yet excited energy rise in my belly as we hang up.

“Can you go to The Avalon?” I request of my driver.

“Yes, ma’am.” He tips his hat.

It seems like it takes ten milliseconds to get to his apartment building, which gives me literally no time to mentally or physically prepare myself?but I’m ready for the challenge. I mean, I have to, don’t I? It’s part of the whole ‘proving myself’ package.

I walk inside The Avalon with purpose and breezy confidence. The doorman lets me right in like he’s expecting me. I hit the elevator button and ride the entire forty-nine floors solo.

I notice the multitude of floors in this building and marvel at how tall this skyscraper really is. I know there’s a penthouse suite that takes up the entire top floor, but you need a key for access.

On the way up, I wonder who lives there and whether Owen knows them. They probably hang out all the time and sip brandy and puff cigars or something…whatever the fuck men do together when they’re so rich they don’t even know how to spend all their money.

I walk down the hall and ring the doorbell to Owen’s apartment. I take a deep breath and adjust my clothes, running my hands through my long blonde hair.

A few seconds later, the door swings open and Owen stands before me, gorgeous and sexy as ever. I don’t even know this guy, but I know of him now, and that’s at least enough for me to keep from getting cold feet and running away.

My mind is already made up, and there is no turning back now. Owen is inciting, hot and barely wearing any clothes. He’s got a pair of black sweatpants on, and he doesn’t seem the slightest bit embarrassed to be seen in this condition.

I instinctively glance down and notice his package bulging between his legs. Holy shit, it’s huge, I can tell. I want to get my hands on that hard cock of his, and I have no idea where this motivation is coming from, but I’m suddenly compelled with the chemistry that swirls around us, as if I have no control over any of it.

His chiseled body enthralls me, and I’m becoming completely absorbed by how ripped and cut he is.

I want nothing more than to touch him all over and have him put his hands on me, too.

“Come on in.” Owen smiles at me and moves aside to let me through.

We stand in his foyer for a few moments as I continue to soak him in. His chest is glistening. I find myself walking slowly towards him, drawn in like a magnet.

He gives me a naughty, devilish grin.

“So, why is your schedule suddenly clear?” His eyes flash with mischief.

I don’t fucking know why I do it, but something takes over me, something uncontrollable. It’s like everything that I am snaps. I realize I’m unleashing my inner bad girl side. A side I normally keep firmly in check, ignoring its existence even to myself.

But right now? I’m ready to let that side come out to play.

I strip down to my black, lacy lingerie and stand before him, taunting him. I’m nearly naked, vulnerable and exposed. My body radiates the heat that I feel inside.

“This is why,” I say, and eye him seductively, trying to calm my racing heart. What the fuck will happen now?