Page 36 of Madden

Chapter Eleven

Madden

Our last day in NYC has been chaotic, jumping from one interview to the next. The only thing that helped me get through it was thinking about my date last night with Brielle and knowing I’ll see her again tonight.

I don’t bother sticking around when we get back to our hotel. After a quick shower, I change and slip out the door when no one is watching.

Abel meets me in the lobby.

“I’ll text when I need you to pick me up,” I say, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror.

“What should I tell the guys if anyone asks where you’re at?”

I tighten my hand into a fist. “Tell them you don’t know.”

He clenches his jaw and nods. I don’t bother to wait around for him to grumble over it either, reaching for the door handle.

It’s a cool brisk evening. A gust of wind swoops in, sending a shiver through me. I shove my hands into my pockets and pull the brim of my hat down to cover my face when I approach the front entrance. The sliding glass doors open, leading into the lobby, where a man stands behind a counter, ready to greet me.

“Can I help you, sir?” he asks, his eyes going wide.

He’s dressed in a charcoal suit, his dark hair slicked to the side.

“I’m here for Brielle Silvers.”

“Silvers?” he questions, glancing up at me from behind the computer screen, and I nod.

He clears his throat. “Yes, Ms. Silvers.” He smiles. “She let me know she’s expecting you. Her apartment is on the thirty-seventh floor.”

I thank him and take off toward the bay of elevators leading up to her apartment.

With each floor I pass, I find myself growing more anxious to see her. We’ll finally be alone, in private, away from anyone watching us.

She greets me as soon as the elevator dings and the door opens. She’s dressed in a pair of black lounge pants and a cream-colored sweater, her arms wrapped around her waist. Her hair is pulled up in one of those messy buns, and she’s wearing a pair of dark-framed glasses.

It gives her a studious look, and I can’t help all the sinful thoughts swirling through my mind about corrupting her in every possible way.

“Hi,” she says, her voice dropping low.

She lets her eyes trail down my body to my red T-shirt covered by my black leather jacket and dark denim jeans.

I’ve been dying to get my hands on her, to feel her soft skin beneath me.

I stalk toward her, shrugging out of my jacket. She reaches her hand out to take it from me, and I shake my head, hanging it on the coatrack near the door.

When I turn toward her, I catch her staring at my ass, but she quickly darts her gaze up to meet mine, and I grin, knowing I’ve caught her.

This time when I make my way to her, I don’t stop until I’m standing an inch away.

“I finally have you all to myself,” I whisper, lifting her chin, gripping it between my fingers.

Her eyes soften. “Isn’t that what you wanted all along?”

I smirk. “You know better than to think that.” I lean in, leaving our lips a hairsbreadth apart, but she gives in and wraps her arm around my neck, pulling me down to her. When our mouths crash, she moans against me, and I grasp her hip, lifting her.

She circles her legs around my waist. I groan when she grinds against me, realizing I have no fuckin’ idea where the hell I’m going with her.

I saunter through her apartment and pull back to carry her into the kitchen, setting her on the counter. For the first time, I allow myself a moment to look around the space.

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