There was a camera in each corner, protected by a thick frame of glass, probably encased in bulletproof material. A keypad was on the wall, black and sleek. I typed in the long combination then heard the sound of air compressors erupting from behind the door, the same sound a safe made once it unlocked.
Then I slipped the ordinary key inside and got the doors unlocked.
When I opened the door, I came into contact with a metal wall. The wooden door had opened outward onto the street, but the metal one swung inward. When I started to push it, I realized how heavy it was, and then I realized it was several feet thick.
Whoa.
I stepped inside the house and shut both sets of doors. When the metal door was shut, the mechanisms inside immediately came to life, clicking and locking as all the bolts within it returned to place.
Shit, he wasn’t fucking around.
I turned around and saw a sitting area in front of a fireplace. It looked untouched, like it was staged for visual purposes. To the right were the stairs that led down to the basement.
The basement where he’d kept me.
I couldn’t believe I was there again…under completely different circumstances.
There was another set of steps in front of me, so I walked up until I emerged into a large living room, floor-to-ceiling windows comprising one entire wall. Everything was modern and sleek, like it had been renovated recently.
He didn’t seem to be anywhere.
I explored his place, seeing the three couches that faced a large TV on the wall. Shelves were on either side of it, and he had unusual sculptures, all made of gray metal. A large fireplace was against one wall.
I kept moving, coming across an enormous kitchen, a fridge with a glass door, and an island bigger than my entire kitchen. My hand dragged across the granite countertops before I stepped into the hallway. There was another set of stairs that led to another floor, but I looked down the opposite hallway, assuming that was where his bedroom was located. I wanted to put my bag down, but it seemed presumptuous to enter his private bedroom without permission, even though he claimed not to care. “Heath?”
No response.
I set my bag on one of the couches and took the stairs to the next level. There was another sitting area, but smaller than the first. I moved down the hallway and saw glass walls that enclosed a private gym.
It was decked out with all kinds of equipment, from cardio machines to full weight machines.
Then I spotted him lying flat, picking up a bar stacked with weights as he did his bench presses, letting the heavy weight sink to his chest before he pushed it back into the air, struggling but completing the set.
Shirtless and covered in sweat, he had clearly been working out for a while. Black headphones covered his ears. He racked the bar and lay there for a bit, catching his breath before he grabbed the bar again, his hands protected by thick black gloves, and he did another set, breathing in a timely matter as he raised and lowered the weights. He was in black running shorts and workout shoes, his sculpted thighs and calves visible.
I watched him for a while, my heart beating quick and my palms beginning to sweat. His arms were so strong, thick from his shoulders all the way down to his forearms. When his skin was shiny with sweat, he looked even sexier, like this was some kind of free porn.
Jesus, he was hot.
I walked through the door and slowly came toward him, not wanting to alarm him because he obviously had no idea I was there. I moved behind him and let him finish. I didn’t mind waiting with a view like this. I wore a red dress with heels, my hair done because I’d planned to come over here after work.
When he was finished with his set, he sat up and wiped his face with his towel. With his arms on his knees, he leaned forward, his eyes on the ground. After a few seconds, he raised his gaze to look at himself in the mirror.
His eyes moved to mine immediately.
His face was tinted red from exertion, new beads of sweat forming the second he wiped his face. His chest rose and fell deeply because he was still tired. He didn’t give a flash of alarm at my unexpected presence, always calm. His eyes looked me over, trailing down my body to my heels, appreciating the way I looked. Then he pulled the headphones off his head. “Damn.” When he wore his intense expressions, he was difficult to read, so it was sexy when he spoke his mind. He set the headphones aside and rose to his feet, his muscles pumped with blood after his workout.
I walked to him, my heels loud against the hardwood floor. I couldn’t believe this six-foot-three hunk was mine, that I got to enjoy the most masculine man on this planet.
He didn’t lean down and kiss me or touch me. “I’ll give you a better greeting after I rinse off.”
“I don’t mind.” My palms flattened against his sweaty chest, my fingertips immediately soaked from the moisture. I moved into him and kissed his sweaty lips, tasting the potent salt on my tongue.
He kissed me back but still didn’t touch me, like he didn’t want my dress or hair dirty. But he could still kiss me well without cupping my neck or my cheek, could rely on his lips to make my knees
