I’m a man of my word, and when I tell Cate I’m going to show her a good time, I mean it.

Friday evening, she leaves the office at 6:00, and when she gets back to her apartment I’m already there—along with the most highly recommended masseuse in the city and a full hair and makeup team, along with a stylist I’ve hired for the evening.

“Jax,” she says when she walks in the door, her face lighting up. “What is this?”

“The first part of your good time.”

The masseuse has set up in her bedroom, and while he’s working on her I finalize the details for the evening. Thirty minutes later, she emerges from her bedroom freshly showered, wrapped in a brand-new plush robe that I left on her bed.

The team, which has been milling around in her living room, springs into action.

For once, Cate’s making all the approvals—and they’re for no one but herself. Her cheeks are pink from the heat of the shower and she can’t stop herself from grinning.

When we step out of her apartment an hour later, she is a vision in a champagne dress, her hair in a sleek twist behind her head, jewelry glittering on her wrist, around her neck, earrings twinkling on her earlobes.

“Stop,” I tell her, my tone teasing and light.

“Stop what?”

“You’re taking my breath away.”

The cheesy line makes her laugh, and she’s still smiling when we get down to the car waiting at the curb. It’s a brand-new Jaguar. It’s a beauty—all sleek lines and curves and power. I know Cate doesn’t have the time or energy to care about cars, but even she can appreciate this one.

“Wow—you’re pulling out all the stops!” she exclaims as I open the passenger door for her. I’ll be driving tonight.

“You have no idea.”

Our first stop: Haute, one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city. I’m friends with the chef, who sends out dish after dish of a menu customized to Cate’s preferences.

“How does he know?” she whispers to me across the table, and the sweetness in her face—still a little pale underneath the flawless makeup—breaks my heart.

I lean forward as if I’m about to tell her a state secret. “I gave him a list of all of your favorite things. He’s tailoring everything that comes to this table to your specific tastes.”

Cate shakes her head. “Unbelievable.”

“What’s unbelievable about it?”

“That you can do this.”

“I can do anything.”

“So I see.”

“Except convince you to…” I reconsider. “Never mind.”

“Convince me to what?”

I reach across the table and take her hand. “Quit your job.”

Irritation flashes across her face. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“It’s probably for the best.”

“Let’s not talk about work.”

“Let’s talk about something better.”

“What’s that?”

“Bed.”

She laughs, a beautiful, throaty sound. “Not in a place as fancy as this.”

“Are you sure you want to say no to me, Ms. Schaffer?” I inject a hint of kink into my tone.

Cate bites her lip and looks at me with lust written across her face. “Not entirely.”

I stand up, tossing my napkin onto my seat. “Come with me.”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Where?”

“Leave your purse. We’ll be back.”

I take her hand and pull her through the restaurant. It’s on the twentieth floor, and there’s only one thing above us: a private observation deck that’s only available to members such as myself.

I’m on her as soon as the elevator doors close, tasting the sweetness of her skin, covering her mouth with mine, running my hands over the curves of her hips. She moans into my mouth, her body fitting to mine, and doesn’t break the kiss until the elevator doors slide open.

The view of the city from here is breathtaking, especially now, when all the lights on the deck are off. It’s completely deserted.

“Let’s play a game.”

“What’s the game?” she says, staring around at the sea of city lights beneath us.

I guide her to the window.

“You give yourself to me, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

A wicked grin. “I like this game.”

“Hands on the glass.”

She hesitates.

“Hands on the glass, Ms. Schaffer.”

Cate steps forward and presses her palms against the thick glass, then spreads her legs, planting her heels firmly into the carpet. I run both hands over the swell of her ass, down the outside of her thighs, and lean forward to breathe into her ear. “You spread for me before I asked.”

“Was that wrong?” Her voice is a breathless whisper.

“No. It’s so right that I’m going to reward you for it.”

“How?”

Instead of telling her, I bend down and lift the hem of her dress, holding it against her waist with one hand while I tug down her panties with the other, tapping her ankle with one hand so that she steps out of them. For a final touch, I press the ball of lace into her mouth. She doesn’t resist. She arches her back and accepts it.

“Keep your hands on the glass.”

I unzip my pants, letting my rock-hard cock spring free, and move into position behind her. Cars speed by far below us, and lights twinkle on and off like stars.

Cate is already dripping wet when I press the head of my cock against her opening, my hands gripping her hips, and ease her back onto me. She moans, the sound muffled by the panties, as my girth stretches her, impales her, reminds her who she belongs to.

Her muscles contract around me, both of us high on the distance from the ground, on the way we’re in full view of anyone on the same level in the neighboring buildings, the power I have over her because she’s given it to me, the sweetest submission.

I fuck her until she comes, legs shaking, head thrown back, crying out into her own panties.

And then…

Then I take her back to dinner, give her an exquisite dessert, and watch the light of that climax shine in her eyes all the way through the sold-out Broadway show, the drive back to my penthouse…and into my bed.