For the first time since I started working as a cleaner, I feel like stealing something.
This pillow.
I run my fingers over the smooth, silky pillowcase. I’m tempted to take it, just this once, so I can put it on my bed and sleep on it.
Every night.
Maybe in the daytime too…
Or maybe I’ll just stay in bed forever.
When I arrived earlier and started cleaning, I noticed the place smelled amazing, but it was faint at first, and I was busy being impressed by the penthouse itself.
It’s open and spacious, with a soaring ceiling and two walls of floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlook the sky, the ocean, and some shorter buildings.
The floor is a smooth, dark hardwood, but the sunken living room has a thick, luxurious carpet and two curved white sofas with furry gray pillows.
There’s even a bar with a gleaming white marble countertop near the wall at the back.
And a wide, curved staircase leading upstairs…
To this bedroom.
Like a drug.
I step deeper into the room, dragging the vacuum cleaner with me. But the closer I get to his bed, the more affected I am by the scent.
My breathing becomes labored, my heart is pounding fast, and my stomach is doing somersaults. My body thrums like a live wire.
I’ve never felt so excited yet so at peace all at once. My heart is longing for…something. Or someone. I don’t know anymore.
My brain tells me not to do anything crazy, but my body isn’t listening.
Feeling high as a kite, I lie down on the cool sheets and bury my nose in the pillow. I rub my cheek against it and imagine the man who put his head on this pillow last night.
Whoever lives here must be amazingly hot. No one who smells this good could look ugly. No way.
I know this room belongs to a man because I saw his shirts, suits, shoes, belts, and neckties in his perfectly organized closet.
A pair of his shoes probably costs more than what I make in a year, and judging by the size of his suits, he’s not a small guy.
I wish I knew what the client looks like, but there are no pictures of him in the entire place. Or personal items except for his clothes in the closet. It’s weird.
Wait! What if they’re married? I don’t do married men. Or engaged men, or men with girlfriends. Even just to daydream about.
That just feels wrong.
Gah!
I need to go out on dates more often—just not with Kofi.
My ringtone blares out of my phone, and I jump off the bed, heart pounding.
It’s my mom calling. Again. Which reminds me I have less than thirty minutes left to clean this place.
What the hell, Layla!
Beth would surely fire my ass if she knew what I’d been doing and thinking. I have no time to daydream over a smell. What’s wrong with me?
I let the call go unanswered, but I sing along to the song while I strip the sheets off the bed to be sent to the dry cleaners.
The song stops. Mom’s probably going to call me again soon, though. Oh Goddess, she’s going to kill me!
I make the bed with fresh sheets.
There, done!
Impulsively, I lie back down on the perfectly made bed and rest my head on his pillow. I can’t help it; the smell is still there, though not as strong, and his bed is so comfortable, the sheets unbelievably soft.
I breathe it in…again and again.
Just a minute longer…so calming, so soft…
My eyelids feel heavy.
Just one more minute…
Something is touching my face, my neck…so light and soft, just a whisper of a touch, but my whole body hums in pleasure.
My eyelids flutter open, and I’m looking into a pair of bright golden-yellow eyes. So beautiful. So mesmerizing. So intense. So…
My own eyes widen in horror as reality breaks through my dream-like haze.
I fell asleep in a client’s bed! And now I’m having a staring contest with the hot owner of that bed!
I’m going to lose my job. No, worse—Beth is going to kill me.
I start to scramble away from him, but he growls—growls!—and the raw, animalistic rumble makes me freeze.
It’s a warning, and something inside me listens.
He crawls onto the bed with his intense golden eyes locked on mine, mesmerizing me like a predator slowly cornering its prey, who dares not move a muscle.
I know I’m the stupid prey in this scenario, but every instinct is telling me that running away would be a bad idea.
Besides, he’s really hot and smells awesome…
Wait, what?
He crawls on top of me, and I gulp loudly as his weight presses me into the mattress, enveloping me in his addictive, amazing, masculine smell.
I can hear my erratic heartbeat pounding in my ears.
My stomach hollows out as if I were on a roller coaster hurtling down from a great height.
My breathing is fast and ragged.
It’s part fear and part excitement.
I take in his features—his high cheekbones, his chiseled, angular jaw.
His plump, sensual pink lips.
His straight nose, strong, thick eyebrows, and dark-bronze hair streaked with highlights from the sun. Oh Goddess…I’ve seen this man before.
But now I’m held under those unusual golden-yellow eyes framed by thick, dark eyelashes. Staring down at me like I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever seen.
I’m in deep trouble…
That’s my last coherent thought before everything else fades around us.
His masculine scent weaves its magic on my senses. Those extraordinary eyes hold me captive. The air around us is thick, buzzing, and sizzling with electricity.
I’m so lost in him that I fail to register anything else around us.
Seconds, minutes, hours? I don’t know how long I’m lying there staring up at him, but when he finally moves, I feel like I’m waking up from a trance.
Oh Goddess! What have I done?
Oh Goddess, he’s a lycan!
My heart rate triples.
Why didn’t I notice that before?
I’m only half-werewolf and can’t shift like my siblings, but the one thing I got from my father, apart from my looks, is a strong sense of smell.
Stronger than some werewolves’ even. Sometimes I swear I can even smell when someone is lying—their sweat glands work overtime.
The lycan’s studying me with the most intense expression—like he’s in awe, or like he can’t quite believe I’m real—then leans in close to my neck and inhales, breathing me in.
He closes his eyes like he’s savoring the best scent in the world, and I have the sudden urge to take a whiff of myself. I’ve been working since early this morning. I must stink.
Okay. This is the weirdest and most intense encounter I’ve ever had. And I have to remember that lycans are dangerous.
“Uh…hi,” I say finally.
He lifts his head up like he’s startled, then looks at me with those eyes.
Those eyes.
“Hello,” he says.
“Hi,” I say again.
His lips slowly curl into an amused smile. “Hello.”
“Yeah, hello.” He has such a beautiful smile…
“Hi.” His smile widens.
“Hi.”
Wait, how many times are we going to say this? Oh, Layla, you’re such an idiot.
He looks like he’s struggling not to laugh. I just met the hottest guy on the planet, and he must think I’m ridiculous. And…he’s still on top of me.
In bed.
In his bed!
I scramble to get up, but his weight is pressing down on me, so all I’m really doing is squirming underneath him, my breasts rubbing against his chest, my hips grinding against his groin. His body is hard.
All over.
Oh!
I stop moving.
He pushes up on his forearms, then slides his gaze down to where our bodies are still pressed together before he looks back into my eyes, which must be enormous right now.
The air around us is thick again. Electric. I see his Adam’s apple moving as he swallows, and all I want to do is put my mouth on his throat and lick it…
Apparently, he has the same idea.
“Don’t move,” he says as he leans down and his nose and lips brush against my neck.
The air is thick and charged, and I can feel the energy swirling around us. My heart thunders, and my breasts graze his torso with each ragged breath that I take.
“What’s your name?” he breathes, his voice low and guttural. And that posh British accent, mixed with something else, is seriously melting my panties.
Not my Superman panties, though—they’re underwear of steel.
“Why?” I ask warily.
He raises an eyebrow as he glances up at me from beneath my jaw. “I just want to know the name of the beautiful woman beneath me.”
Beautiful? I know I’m not a troll, but he can’t be flirting with me. I mean, this guy is so good-looking, it’s insane.
So, no. I don’t think he’s flirting with me.
“It’s Layla,” I tell him finally.
“Layla.”
Somehow, listening to him saying my name in that voice, hearing the way it rolls off his tongue, makes a delicious chill run down my spine.
“Layla…” He says it again as he runs his nose and lips farther down my neck till he reaches my collarbone.
Oh, dear Goddess. My skin tingles from his touch, and tiny sparks travel through my body, pulsing through my veins and swimming in my blood.
I feel his warm, silky tongue touching my skin, tasting me, and I moan out loud and wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer.
He opens his mouth, then closes it around the curve where my neck meets my shoulder and starts sucking. My body goes up in flames.
