Sugar

“Enjoying yourself?”

Slowing my breathing, I drew back my shoulders and turned. “Your kitchen’s nicer than mine.”

“Your bedroom’s bigger.”

“Excuse me?”

He chuckled. “I checked yours out before you signed the lease. If it was nicer, I’d have switched.”

Well, he certainly had an unapologetic thing going for him. I didn’t know how to process that comment as it somehow dropped my incredible home down a notch. I reminded myself that I had the bigger bedroom, which made sense since I likely had more clothing.

“I’d love to see what you’ve done with it.” The look in his eyes held full-on challenge.

My chest lifted as I held his stare. “I bet you would. But I think your prior appraisal’s going to have to last.” There was no way he was getting an invite.

“Don’t be sour.”

“I’m not. I don’t spend a lot of time in the kitchen, so these amenities would be wasted on me.” Damn, was that a wine fridge?

He edged closer. “Turns out I love to cook as much as I love to fuck, but I’ve yet to master some culinary arts so I figured I’d keep the apartment with the best space to improve my less honed … skills.”

“Charming.” Every guy thought they had the map to the G-spot, but most were more likely to find the Holy Grail first.

He rounded the granite island and glanced into the sink, arching a brow at the empty glass. “Leaving so soon?”

“It’s late. I appreciate the invite but—”

“Why were you late?”

“I… I told you. I had an appointment.”

“You could’ve gotten out of it.”

I frowned at his arrogant assumption. “How would you know?”

“Because I don’t think it was business.” He glanced down at my dress. “I think it was personal.”

Ahh. “You know, I think I hear my phone ringing.”

I turned, and he caught my arm, tugging me back with enough force that my hands braced against his chest, my head tipping back to look into his eyes.

“Have dinner with me, Avery Johansson.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re neighbors and we both like living here and I don’t want it to get weird.”

“Maybe it’ll get good weird.”

“It won’t.”

He leaned his long body into the counter, his thumb sliding slowly over my bare arm where he held me as we faced off. My breath hitched, and I held it so not to give any clue of the effect he had on me.

“Come on. One dinner. I’ll treat.”

I laughed. “I know you would, but my answer’s still no.”

“Afraid you’ll actually enjoy yourself?” His gentle grip glided to my wrist, reminding me that my hands still rested on his chest.

My frown deepened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I see you going out on dates, a different guy every other night. None of them are right for you. Why would you date someone so much older? You’re young, beautiful, and I bet you’re incredible in bed.”

I yanked my hands away from him but kept my position, his body pinning mine between the sink and his. “Wouldn’t you like to know what earns them my time? It’s a shame you never will.”

“A thousand bucks says you’re wrong.”

I gave a humorless laugh. “Only a thousand?” That was no small bet.

He brazenly caught a piece of my hair between two fingers and gently tugged. “You’d like it. I’d make sure of that. First, it would be gentle, and then it would get frantic. I’d make you wait, for your own good, letting the torture build into an intense burn until you begged, Please, Noah, please…” His voice took on a falsetto tone as he did an impression of a woman who sounded nothing like me.

I rolled my eyes. If anyone begged it’d be him.

He leaned closer as if imparting a dark secret. “By the time I’m inside of you, you’d be gasping out my name, and when I hold your arms behind your back and dig my teeth into your shoulder, pounding every hard inch of my cock into your hot little pussy, you’ll be wondering why you ever considered dating those losers when everything you wanted, waited right across the hall.”

My jaw literally unhinged. What. A. Douchebag.

That wasn’t how it would go down—which it wouldn’t—but if it did, it would be Noah pleading. Eyeing him from head to toe, I eased closer, letting my assets brush against his front as I moved my mouth only a kiss away from his.

“Do you know what I like to do with men like you, Noah Wolfe?”

His lashes lowered as he stared at my mouth. “What?”

“I like to strip them down, unburden them, remove every touch of ego, and leave them utterly bare. The things I could do to you… You wouldn’t be able to handle it. So let’s pretend you didn’t just share all those fantasies and it won’t be weird the next time I sense you watching me in the hall. Because no matter how much you wish you could fuck me, that’s not how I operate.”