I want this. Even though I’ve never gone to bed with a man I’ve just met, and certainly not after I’ve been drinking. There’s no denying the sparks flying between us, the way he can’t keep his hands off me, how wet I am thanks to him squeezing my thigh the whole drive here.
I barely get a decent glance at the upscale building before he zings the car into his private underground garage. Lights pop on as we enter, illuminating a pristine space with a polished concrete floor and stark white walls, three bays housing three different candy-colored sports cars. I’m awed for about two seconds before he whisks me through a door and into an elevator.
Luka spins me as the elevator begins to rise, pushing me against the mirrored wall and taking my lips with his. He’s a little rough with me, and I like it. I gasp into his mouth as he fists my hair, tugging and then relaxing, over and over as he kisses me, sending tingles from my scalp to my toes. I’ve never had my hair pulled like this before, and the line between pleasure and pain has me breathless. I slide my hands across his delicious pecs as he meshes his mouth perfectly to mine, hungrier than before, and I can feel my nipples going hard and achy against the fabric of my dress. I reach for his belt, wondering how much longer we’ll be in this elevator, my mouth already watering in anticipation, but then he’s pulling away from me as the car comes to a stop.
A whimper escapes my throat, making Luka laugh.
“There’s no need to rush, Brooklyn,” he says. “We have all night.”
He taps a code on the keypad and the doors open to reveal a short hallway that spills into an airy room with a wall made of windows overlooking the city. It takes me a second to realize that he has an elevator opening directly into a hallway in his home.
His own elevator. Silly, I know. I’m sure there’s much, much more to wealth like this.
“Welcome to my home.”
He unbuttons his tux jacket and leads the way. My mouth drops as I take in the space. It’s magnificent and so far beyond any luxury I could’ve imagined. Reclaimed wood floors contrast beautifully with stark white walls, and the black casings and trim of the expansive windows. Equally dark crown molding graces where walls meet ceiling, and a massive cast iron light fixture hangs from the center of the room, giving off a soft white glow. To the left, an open kitchen hints at expanses of polished granite and fixtures of modern stainless steel. But I don’t get that far. Luka reaches for my purse and shawl and sets them on the side of the L-shaped black leather couch in the center of the room.
Then he rests a hand against my lower back and walks me over to the view.
“What do you think?”
I think that I want to frame up some amazing shots of the city lights to share with my Insta followers. It’s a passing thought as I peer out the window at the beautiful illumination below. The lights are amazing against the night sky.
“I think you’re a lucky man to have a view like this. I’ve never seen Chicago at night from so high up before. It’s magic.”
His fingers trail over my shoulder to the nape of my neck, where he moves my long hair aside to bare the skin. He’s smiling, his eyes intensely focused as he holds my gaze. “I definitely could not imagine a better view.”
My cheeks warm and I look away as a rush goes through me. This is happening so fast. He seems to sense my anxiety as he lightly takes my hand. “How about a tour?”
“I’d love one.”
He starts by opening a set of French doors that lead to a double balcony, one a few steps below, one slightly higher and up a staircase. A variety of succulents grow in glazed pots and an infinity waterfall appears to spill from the roof, splashing into a small pool that’s maybe large enough for two or three people.
“Can you swim in that?” I ask.
“It isn’t very deep, but you’re welcome to try,” he says teasingly. “No suit required.”
“I’ll have to take you up on that next time,” I laugh.
I take his arm. Honestly, if he had just told me to strip and get in, I would have. Just like that. Instead, we head back inside where he shows me a second lounge room, a little smaller than the main living room. It boasts a flagstone wall with a rectangular fireplace cut in the center, with cream-colored recliners, a carved Balinese coffee table, and a leather sofa arranged around it. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases line two walls, and a mini bar is tucked into the back.
“After a dip in the pool, I find there’s nothing better than a sherry by the fire,” he says. “Naked, of course.”
Even though I know he’s just trying to get a rise out of me now, I can’t help but shiver at the mental image I’m getting. Luka Zoric. Naked by the fire. Of course.
We turn down a hall and come up to the backside of the kitchen. Just as I suspected, it’s completely professional, decked to the hilt with high-end everything. Dark cabinets offset the shine of the stainless steel. A large granite island in the middle has a sink on one end, and chairs around one side. There’s even a small electric fireplace peeking out from the far wall near the breakfast nook. Opposite is another recessed area with a Murano glass chandelier, long formal dining table, and chairs to seat ten.
I run my hand along the smooth surface of the granite, leaning against the island.
“Do you entertain a lot?”
Luka watches me run my fingers over the polished stone. “Not really. I prefer to keep things pretty quiet around here.”
I grin. “Makes sense. You don’t strike me as the kind who does a lot of family dinners.”
A sound comes out of him, a cross between a scoff and a laugh. He looks at the long table and shrugs. “Definitely not. I didn’t really grow up with them. My dad wasn’t around much.”
He looks away, and my heart immediately goes out to him. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Luka grins, back to the smooth-talking sex-god persona. “It was for the best.”
God, I would so love to photograph this penthouse. How does it feel to be so accustomed to having luxury like this, that it doesn’t faze you anymore?
“Do you get lonely?” I ask.
He laughs. “No. I’m out and around people all the time. Kinda comes with the Zoric territory. This place is my sanctuary.”
“I get it,” I say with a nod. “But if this was my place, I definitely wouldn’t let it sit empty all the time. I’d want to share it—have people over as much as possible. It’d be so nice to have my friends and family all together in a space like this. I mean, look at this gorgeous table. It’s a shame you don’t use it.”
I walk over to the long table, admiring the gleam of the wood.
When I turn around, he steps into me, our hips touching. Our eyes lock and his hands slide over my bare shoulders and up my neck to cup my face between them. My heart is beating fast in my chest, the tabletop cutting into the back of my thighs.
“Oh, I definitely use it,” he says. “Let me show you how.”
He kisses me, his mouth hard and demanding, and my whole body goes hot and liquid, aching for him. I’ve never been consumed like this. Letting out a soft moan, I open my mouth wider and lose myself in the deep stroke of his tongue. His hands slip down to cup my breasts, and then he lifts me onto the table, stepping between my open legs. I brace my hands behind me for support, tilting my head back as he trails kisses down my neck, making me gasp with every little suck and nip. Then he tugs the straps of my dress down, exposing my breasts.