LOGINZOEâS POV You know that feeling of being watched? The one that makes your skin prickle and your pulse race at the same time? The one that tells you youâre taking a risk⌠and dares you to take it anyway. That was exactly how i felt as Julianâs words floated into my ears. âEyes on me, baby. Don't fret about them down there. Let them watch if they want.â His voice was a command, deep and intoxicating, and it made my pussy throb with need. The dominance in his tone, the way he took controlâit was exactly what I craved, that thrill of being exposed, of being his to command in front of the whole damn city. He bit my earlobe and continued whispering. âThey wonât see your face.But honey,with the way i intend to fuck you,anyone watching would sure wish it was them.â My eyelids fluttered close as the images came alive in my head. I couldnât help the moan that slipped past my lips. I turned back to him, nodding, my breath coming in short pants. He didn't waste time shoving m
ZOEâS POV The elevator hummed softly as it began its slow ascent. The walls were mirrored on three sides, polished to a shine that reflected us from every angle. The ride was charged with unspoken words. I stood next to him with my overnight bag at my feet, trying very hard not to stare. Being with him in the elevator reminded me of the first night we had met. That reckless shameless version of me who had leaned casually against mirrored walls and flirted with him as we went up to the hotel room. Back then, I hadnât known who he was. Or what he was capable of. Back then, Iâd been playing with fire without realizing the flames were real. Now? Now I knew exactly what he could do to me with just a touch. Julianâs phone vibrated softly in his hand. âWolfe,â he answered, his voice shifting into something smooth and commanding. âYes, Senator.â He paced once across the narrow space, his reflection multiplying in the mirrors. He looked calm,contro
ZOEâS POV I wriggled out of Julianâs arms and jumped to the floor, my heart still pounding as I scrambled into my shorts. I then heard the familiar voice of Old Mrs Oâneil floating through the door, followed by another faint knock. âZoe? Zoe dear, are you in there?â I glanced at Julian, startled by how fast heâd already pulled himself together. He was in his briefs and pants, calmly buttoning his shirt like we hadnât just been wrapped around each other seconds ago. âAre you expecting someone?â he asked as his eyes met mine. I could see the look of displeasure on his face and hear the irritation in his voice. âThat's my neighbor,â I said, fumbling with the button on my shorts. My fingers were still trembling. âIâm sorry. Let me see what she wants.â Mrs. OâNeil stood there clutching her cardiganâand beside her was Patrick. My stomach dropped. âOh, my dear girl,â she rushed out, grabbing my arm. âAre you alright? I came over to speak with you and then this scary man
JULIANâS POV Without hesitation, she stood on her tiptoes and reached for me. When her lips met mine, it was like a light switch flipped, and everything in the room became hotâŚ. She didnât stop for breath, her hands kept fisting the front of my shirt and yanking me closer, like sheâd been holding back the same hunger Iâd been choking down for days. I groaned into her mouth, inhaling the faint smell of lavender perfume she had all over her. My hands found her waist, and my thumbs began digging into the soft dip above her hips, pulling her tight against me so she could feel exactly what she was doing to me. âJulian,â she whispered, her voice wrecked already, âdonât stop.â âWasnât planning to,â I muttered. I walked her backward until her spine hit the wall beside the staircase, the plaster making her arch into me. I slid one hand up under her shirt, my palm was flat against the warmth of her stomach, feeling the quick rise and fall of her ribs. She shivered when my fingers
JULIANâS POV The moment I exited the jet, I strode to my waiting car as Patrick held the back door open. âWelcome back to New York Sir.â he greeted. âThank you Patrick,â I responded as I slipped into the car, took off my jacket, and settled into the seat. âWhere to Sir?â he asked, his eyes locking with mine through the rearview mirror. âUpper West Side. Miss Monroe's house.â He nodded as he put the car in drive. My trip to Scotland had been a success, having closed more deals and put more plans in motion than I had set out to do. The only downside was that phone call that had left me antsy. I hadn't heard that voice or seen that face in years and the moment I heard it,my jaw had locked. Years of buried violence shifted under my skin, restless. Men like him didnât resurface for small reasons. I needed to see Zoe. I told myself I was just checking on her, making sure she was okay. But it was more than that. She was mine, and I didnât like not knowing what state
JULIANâS POV I couldnât remember the last time Iâd apologized to anyone. It was a humbling realization that settled on me as I drove away from Zoeâs house, the city sliding past my windshield in streaks of gray and gold. It wasnât that I thought I was always right. It was that Iâd learned early on that apologies didnât fix anything. They didnât undo the damage. They didnât rewrite outcomes. In my world, you corrected your mistakes with action, not words. And yet, I had stood in front of her, watched her fists clench at her sides, seen the disappointment shining behind her eyesâ And I had said Iâm sorry. Not strategically or as a means to sweep the issue aside as soon as I could. Iâd meant it. That was what unsettled me. These last couple of weeks with Zoe have shown me a different side of myself. A side I never let out. I exhaled slowly, tightening my grip on the steering wheel. Most women learnt to move around my silences. They adapt themselves to my moods, t







