Fuck.

If I’d known the Bradford had residents like Emilia, I would have taken my friend Andy’s advice a long time ago and moved here sooner.

I barely even register her friend leaving, though I’m fucking glad to be alone with her now.

I’ve only lived here a week, and I’ve been busy getting unpacked—when I’m not working, which is pretty much always—so it’s the first time I’ve made it up to the lounge.

I thought I’d do a little pre-gaming before heading out on the town, but let’s be real: I’m perfectly fine with staying in tonight if it means I need to do my neighborly duty and get more intimately acquainted with my fellow residents.

Or just the one.

“Leaving so soon, Emilia?” I say, her slight fingers still gripped firmly in mine. “What are you drinking?”

Not ‘Can I buy you a drink, Emilia?’, because fuck that.

Why pretend like she isn’t about to sit that tight little ass right back down and let me buy her whatever I want?

She blinks, her bright blue eyes dilated with desire that I know I fucking put there. Yep, got this one in the bag.

Then Emilia does something that shocks me to my core.

“Nice to meet you, Evan.” She pulls her hand from mine. “But I already have plans.”

She gives me a sassy, little smile—and fuck me, she even has a cute, little dimple—then spins on her Louboutins and starts to strut away.

And yeah, I know the name of her designer shoes. What can I say? I’m a fan of the finer things in life. Plus I’ve had more than one pair of them wrapped around me in my day.

Before I even realize what I’m doing, I reach out and wrap my fingers tightly around her wrist. She’s stalking off with such momentum that the sudden opposing force has her rebounding right back toward me—slamming right into my chest.

The air rushes out of her in an audible gasp. And fucking hell, do I want to find out what other kinds of sounds she might make as our bodies collide.

The impact nearly knocks us off balance, and I instinctively wrap my arms around her waist to keep her from falling.

She glances up at me, pressed against my chest, a flash of uncertainty in her eyes before she shuts that shit down, replacing it with a haughty glare.

“Excuse me, Evan. But I have somewhere to be.” Her voice is like ice.

And I fucking love it.

I don’t let go of her, even when she pulls back, trying to put some distance between us.

“Are you sure about that?” I murmur, unable to resist dipping my head down to whisper in her ear, loving the way a little tremor shakes her whole body as my breath grazes her neck.

A pause.

Anticipation.

I smile, knowing where this is headed.

Emilia trails her fingers up my arms, and it feels like fucking sparks of electricity are shooting through my veins. Her hands come to rest on my chest, and she gives me a saucy little grin.

Yep. Hook, line, and sinker.

Then she pushes. Really fucking hard.

Damn, this woman has some fucking strength hidden underneath that tight, little body.

My eyebrows fly up to my hairline. This is a new one. I can honestly say I don’t remember a woman ever pushing me away—literally—so forcefully.

“Is it something I said?” I tease, quickly regaining my composure.

Emilia cocks her head to the side, jutting a hip out and resting a slender hand on it as she stares at me through narrowed eyes.

“I know your type. Not interested.”

Ouch.

“Baby, you know nothing about me.” My smile hasn’t faltered, but what the fuck. I can’t remember the last time a woman was so vocally uninterested.

“I know enough.”

Her eyes trail slowly up and down my body, and there’s no hiding the fact that she’s got me rock-hard and ready to go. And why should I bother hiding it? I know what I’m packing, and I’m fucking proud of it.

It doesn’t escape me when her gaze lingers a bit too long, her pink little tongue darting out to lick her lips.

I want to fucking groan out load at how crazy she’s making me. And this hard-to-get act? Fuck me, because it’s working.

“Tell me,” I say, taking a step closer to her, “what exactly you know.”

I can tell she wants to back away, that me closing the distance between us is making her waver, but she stands her ground, tilting her chin up to pin me with those crystalline eyes.

“You’re an executive.” She purses her lips. “Wall Street, maybe? You work too much. But you make up for it by playing just as hard.”

I smile. Maybe it’s the Armani suit, but so far, she’s right on the money.

“You also aren’t used to being told no.” It’s her turn to smile now, cool and disdainful.

“Nothing wrong with that,” I say, spreading my arms wide, grinning like a fucking fool now because this girl has me pegged. “I know what I want, and I go after it.”

She regards me for a moment, then takes a step toward me, bringing us close enough that all I’d have to do is shift my weight and our bodies would be flush against each other.

“So what do you want…Evan?”

The way she says my name, low, slow, and fuck-me-now levels of sexy, has my cock twitching, begging to be set free and to claim this woman as my own.

I reach up and take a strand of her silky blonde hair and twirl it around my finger before giving it a little tug.

“I want to push you up against that wall over there. I want to reach up under this tiny excuse for a dress and feel how fucking wet you are for me. Then I want to rip your lacy thong right off you and stuff it in your mouth while I make you come all over my fingers. Then I want to make you come all over my face.”

Her mouth drops open, and she blinks rapidly, like she can’t believe what I just said.

“What’s the matter, baby? Never had a man talk dirty to you before?”

She bites her lip, then gives herself a little shake before smirking up at me. Then with a toss of her hair, she spins on her heel again and walks toward the door, her hips swaying in a way that makes me want to fuck her so hard she won’t be able to walk straight for days.

With one last glance over her shoulder, she calls back to me, “Maybe next time.”