Chapter 4

The irony is not lost on me as Central Park comes into view. I looking over at Warren, he still seems agitated, his jaw tight and his focus straight ahead. The car pulls to a stop and he jumps out, closing the door behind him before I can even ask where we are. Oh, is that what the code meant? He’s just going to leave me alone for his driver to take me home.

“Come on,” Warren leans down, holding open my door.

“Where are we?” I ask looking around, reluctantly taking his hand for assistance.

“I don’t live here,” I whisper as he approaches a fancy steel skyscraper.

“I would hope not. I try not to miss much,” he smirks to himself as the doorman scurries to open the door as we approach.

“Welcome home, Mr. Just,” says the middle-aged man, his eyes shining brightly as he looks up to Warren, who nods in return.

With his hand rested on the small of my back, Warren leads me through a dimly lit lobby, walking rather briskly. I notice a large three-dimensional piece of artwork on the far wall, the word ‘one’ with the number 57 beside it.

Bypassing six elevators, Warren turns a corner, nods at a security guard sitting behind a tall desk, and waves a keycard in front of a black sensor decal on a wall, prompting a set of glass doors to open as we approach. Turning another corner, there’s a set of two other elevators, Warren leads me to the one furthest away.

“Are we robbing a bank?” I ask when he pushes the button to call the elevator, which immediately opens. He only smirks before leading me into the fanciest elevator car I’ve ever seen.

Unlike any other elevator ride, there are no buttons to choose a floor level, and after Warren waves his keycard in front of the sensor on the wall, there is no sign of movement. I’m just about to tell him he may want to wave that keycard again when the doors open without a sound.

Warren walks straight from the elevator, entering the most breathtaking space I’ve ever seen. There’s more marble than anything else in sight, white with soft gray lines scrambled through. I’ve never seen so much space in an apartment in the city, but what’s even more impressive is the view from the surrounding floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Are you coming?” Warren turns to face me. I don’t even realize I’m still standing in the elevator. My feet feel like cement blocks as I tiptoe across the shiny floors.

“You live here?” I ask, twirling around as I take in the décor. All the furniture is white, everything looks artistic and new.

“Umm, no, not really. It just happened to be closest, and I was in a bit of a rush,” he answers while studying me again.

Following his voice, I turn the corner to see a beautiful kitchen with a full bar against a back wall. Warren is behind the bar, and I nod when he raises a glass decanter in the air, offering me a drink. I could definitely use a drink right now, because I feel like I’m floating, hopefully the alcohol will act as an anchor.

“What is this?” I ask, inspecting the heavy glass he’s handed me with an amber-colored liquid.

“Fifty-year-old whiskey, so drink slowly,” he says before drinking all of his in one gulp. Always the rebel I do the same, my face scrunching as the warm spirit burns my throat on its way down. Warren shakes his head, taking my glass from me.

“You just don’t like instructions,” he remarks, pouring each of us another round.

“I don’t like orders,” I correct him, and he shakes his head once again, this time with a smirk.

“Why did you bring me here?” I switch the subject.

“You said you were confused, so we need to clarify before we can move forward, no?” He raises an eyebrow on the last word as if he’s giving me the option to disagree.

“Wait. You weren’t mad?” I scrunch my nose in disbelief.

“Of course I was mad, my cock is throbbing for you,” he throws back his second drink and I’m hopeful that prevented him from hearing the gasp that escapes me at his admission.

“So, what are you going to clarify?” I question.

“It depends. What are you confused about?” He pours another drink for himself and I realize I’ve not touched my second round.

“If you’re not solely asking for my virginity, what exactly do you want from me?” I ask before taking a small sip of my drink, careful not to burn my throat this time.

“Good girl,” he nods at my decision before responding to my question. “I’ve already answered that. I want all of you,” his eyes wandering my body with a powerful gaze of lust.

“Okay, but that’s my virginity, right?” I raise my hands in exasperation.

“It depends on how you planned to go about it. When you first have sex, did you plan to not have sex with anyone else after that?” He looks into my eyes.

“Wait. You want to be my boyfriend?” I ask, again confused. Did he just ask me to be exclusive?

“No. No, that’s not what I’m saying,” he chuckles as if I’m a child not understanding a simple math equation.

“Don’t patronize me, Warren. Just talk straight,” I say curtly.

“I want you, and I don’t ever want anyone else to have you. I want to fuck you whenever, wherever I want and make you come until you beg me to stop.” He watches me closely as I slowly move my glass to my mouth, taking another sip.

“Are you asking me to be exclusive to you, but you have no plans to be exclusive to me?” I use the liquor to ask the embarrassing question I’m a bit too bashful to say confidently.

“I don’t want to fuck anyone else, Christina,” his headshake almost imperceptible.

“So then, what about this is different than a relationship?” I ask. This man is the most confusing person I’ve ever met.

“I don’t do ‘relationships’,” he says in a mocking tone.

“Well, sir. What you just described is the premise of a modern relationship if I understand them correctly,” I down the last of my drink.

“But just the premise. I don’t do dates, I’m not going to meet your parents, I don’t have that type of time.” His gaze is piercing, like he’s willing me to understand him.

Walking away from the bar, I stroll around the apartment, taking in the immaculate space, my high heels creating a loud harmony as I walk across the marble at a slow rhythm. I can hear Warren following behind me slowly, so I’m not at all shocked when I spin and see him about five feet behind me.

“So, you want me to agree to an exclusive sexual relationship with you, where we have sex whenever and wherever, but that’s it?” I summarize his terms.

“Yes,” he says flatly.

“I don’t have sex with anyone else, and you don’t have sex with anyone else, but there’s no lovey-dovey shit,” I simplify it.

“Right,” he nods his head, that sexy smirk curling his lips again.

“Okay,” I shrug, and Warren’s eyes look ready to pop out of his head.

“Okay?” He repeats in disbelief.

“Okay,” I confirm, nodding my head, and he stalks me, his jaw tight, before lifting me in the air. My legs instantly wrap around him, his hands on each side of my face as his tongue slides into my mouth while he walks between two large white sofas in the living room.