Free The Apartment (Apartment #1) by Amanda Black

once she had pulled her shirt over her head.
    “Listen,” he said as soon as she managed to pull her gaze away from his groin and settle it on his face, another telltale blush coloring her cheeks. “I meant what I said earlier. You’re taking this fucking key.” He reached for her hand pressed it into her palm, pausing for a moment, to make sure that she was paying attention. “And you’re coming back.”
    “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I’ll be back. I’m not sure when… or how often. Weekends will be something of a problem.”
    “I don’t care how, when, or why you come. Only that you do.” He looked deep into her beautiful eyes, knowing that the moment she left again he would miss them terribly. Slowly leaning down and bringing his mouth to hers, he kissed her softly. “Goodbye for now.”
    “Goodbye, stranger.” A small smile played on her lips.
    As she backed away from him toward the door, he couldn’t help but see that she spared one final glance down at his dick. A deep crimson spread across her features when she saw he’d noticed, which caused it to stiffen slightly under her regard. With one last, barely audible squeak under her breath, she shut the door behind her and ran down the stairs.
    Glancing down at the offending member in question, Ethan chuckled to himself. He clearly had no control over what that girl did to his body. Walking into the small bathroom and turning on the shower, he eyed the dark garment bag that hung on the back of the door as he stepped under the stream of water. Rinsing off his sweaty frame quickly, he thought to himself that there was no better sweat than post-sex sweat.
    When he was finished, he stepped out onto the cold tile floor and cursed himself for forgetting to buy some towels. Praying that he’d air-dry quickly, Ethan brushed out his hair with his fingertips, finally giving it up for a lost cause when it began sticking up at odd angles.
    Fuck it
.
    He turned around to the garment bag, unzipping it slowly to reveal a designer suit that had been tailored to fit. This one was a dark charcoal gray color and one of his favorites. As he tightened his silk tie in the mirror, he acknowledged that the suit he was wearing probably cost more than the average person earned in a month.
    We must always keep up appearances, isn’t that right, dear?
    He threw on his dress coat and made his way down to the Audi, reminding himself as he got inside that he needed to contact the rental company soon about setting up an open-ended contract. He’d originally taken it out for a week, but now he had absolutely no idea how long he might stay. Living the life of a wealthy, eccentric nomad had left him with very few ties to any one place, so the duration of his visit was completely up to him.
    As he pulled out of the lot, he turned on the satellite radio, already set to one of his favorite hard rock stations. Whenever he was in the mood to start painting again, his musical preferences tended to lean more toward the aggressive side of the spectrum. Except for earlier that day; for some reason, something had made him get up and switch his iPod over from his
Painting Music
playlist to a new one he’d just made that morning, simply titled
Fuck Songs
. And as if the reason for his playlist inspiration had been summoned by the music alone, she had shown up at his door.
    Shaking his head to clear it from the images of luscious pink lips and soft brown hair, he directed his attention to the song currently playing on the radio. Startled to find that it was actually a slow song, Ethan paid closer attention. It was by the band Slipknot, which was normally much heavier-sounding. He started to recognize the tune, but as it played he realized that he’d never listened to the lyrics. They were full of pain and hurt, loss and regret.
    OK, that’s enough of that
. Ethan turned off the radio, instantly uncomfortable with how closely the song mirrored his own emotions at the moment. He didn’t need