Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 23342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
I nod. “Delicious. Thank you so much for bringing me here.”
“You’re very welcome, Addy. What would you say to a night cap? My penthouse isn’t far from here.”
My eyes widen. His penthouse? The one he shares with Marissa? I’m not sure I can handle that awkwardness.
“Um, well, does Marissa still live with you?” I ask hesitantly. “It would be really weird to see her again under these circumstances.”
Marcus throws his head back and laughs, revealing even white teeth.
“No, she’s gone. She’s never lived at my place, actually. This is a new penthouse I bought after we separated, so you’re safe.”
I exhale with relief.
“Okay, then I’m game.”
He grins at me, those blue eyes gleaming, and I know there’s going to be something in store when we get back to his place. Marcus pays the bill and to my surprise, we don’t hail a cab. Instead, he takes my elbow and guides me just down the street to a glass skyscraper. It’s tall and imposing, with a circular courtyard and a marble lobby.
“Welcome home, Mr. Steele,” the doorman greets.
“Thank you, Bernie,” Marcus nods in return. “This way, Addy.”
We step to the elevators, which whisk us up to the sky. At the top floor, the elevator opens directly into his apartment, and Marcus lets me in. I’m struck by how masculine the penthouse is. The couch and chairs are black leather, and the tables are made of dark wood.
Marcus grins.
“As you can see, this is a bachelor pad. Marissa would never go for this kind of décor.”
I nod.
“Yes, she always liked pastels, and I don’t think there’s a drop of pastel in your home.”
He grins.
“I hate pastel. Well, I like it okay, but not where I live. A stark white works better, or even a muted gray, but not peach or lilac.”
I giggle.
“So no comfy pink overstuffed sofas?”
He grins.
“Absolutely not.”
The penthouse has an open floor layout with floor to ceiling windows and I gasp while gazing outside. I can see all of Manhattan from up here, and it’s stunning. From my apartment, all I can see are the garbage cans my building uses, as well as the brick wall of the building next door. It’s not great. Then again, Megan and I make our rent every month, and that’s what matters. Someday, when we’re both big-name designers, we’ll move somewhere nicer.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Marcus asks.
“Oh, sure,” I nod. “Thank you.”
“How do you feel about rum and pineapple juice?”
“Mmm, sounds yummy.”
“Perfect. I’ll be right back.”
Marcus goes into the kitchen to fix us drinks, so I take some time to check out the rest of the apartment. The living room and dining room are connected and decorated in a sleek, masculine style. To the left of the door, there’s a short hallway that probably leads to the bedrooms.
My cheeks flush. I still can’t get the image of Marcus naked out of my head. His cock was the biggest I’ve ever seen, and the power with which he used it was mouth-watering. Was that an illusion? I moan a bit, and then blush when Marcus returns.
He grins, like he knows exactly what I’ve been thinking. But he doesn’t comment and merely hands me a glass filled with pale yellow liquid with a hint of red on top.
“What is this?” I ask.
“It’s delicious, trust me. Rum with pineapple and a splash of cranberry.”
I take a hesitant sip, but Marcus is right. It’s tart and tangy, without being overly sweet. I don’t like alcohol much, but this is the kind of drink I can handle because it doesn’t taste like there’s rum in it at all. This might be dangerous, but I don’t care. It’s Friday night, and I’m allowed to let loose a little bit.
We take seats on a black leather couch, and I sip at my drink again before taking a deep breath.
“Can I ask you what happened with Marissa?” I say. “I know it’s none of my business, but I’m just curious because you were together for so long. Plus, you seemed so in love.”
Marcus looks thoughtful, his huge body still.
“We were in love, at least in the beginning. When we got married, we were young and idealistic and fresh out of design school. I do still love her, but Marissa and I have grown apart. We’re not the same people that we were years ago.”
I shoot him a confused look.
“What do you mean?”
He sighs, and looks out over the Manhattan skyline.
“I guess everything changed, with respect to family, the business, and even her personality. Marissa was warm and bubbly when we first got together, if you can believe it. There was none of this ice queen persona, and her warmth and friendliness are what drew me to her. But she became hard and brittle somehow, and maybe it was the business. The stress of running the House of Steele can be overwhelming, and I guess we just handled the pressure in different ways.”