I check myself out in the elevator. The metallic switchboard acts as a mirror. I'm too unbelievable to be real. I'm a living painting, a drawn and colored fairy princess, complete with glitter. The only thing that's missing are the wings. I take my phone from a beige clutch purse and pose for a selfie. No filter. I hit the main floor button. It's close to 7:20.

The lift descends. I turnaround to check out my ass. It has a shape because of the mermaid back design. Good, my booty needs some help. When the doors slide open to the first floor, I hyperventilate. "Okay...don't say anything stupid...or try to jump his bones. Don't repeat my first time out with a guy. No grinding." I catwalk out. love that my bad girl magic is back.

A text from Jace makes me squeal.

I'm here, darling 🤍

My finger taps a response in a flash: Coming

I pass through the spin doors, pushing them with more strength than needed. I'm restless. The night is lightly windy and warm. There's a golden car parked on the curb. It's so sleek and slim. So luxurious.

A normal person would be psyched to get inside. I'm not. My fear of riding in a vehicle cripples my feet from proceeding. Oh...I'm being silly. I can't do this. No...no...no, get a grip!

"The driver can't hurt me anymore. I am in a safe space. There is no harm." I murmur to myself. A flashback of the blurry street invades my mind. The growling and screeching of the car boom in my ears. The sight of my body hurling against the gravel. Blood begins to drain from my face.

The driver's side door extends upward. Jace, who's in a white gold embroidered suit and tie, circles to me. His green eyes soak in my appearance with dazzlement. He's blinded by my appearance. "Madison..." He expresses seductively. "Are you trying to get fucked tonight?" He steps onto the curb to tease my cheek with his warm breaths.

His face is so toasty on mine. The fruity boardwalk scent is so calming. "Can't say..." I toy with him.

His fiery eyes peer into mine. "You're too tasty to share with guests."

"Are you saying I'm above five stars?"

"You are...looking the way you do. We could ditch the restaurant." He flirts.

"Why sir, don't loosen your pants on the first date." I poke poshly. "I'm a lady of class."

He snickers. "I guess I can share you." Jace leads me to the car. I'm wedged against his side. The PTSD of the demon car boards my feet in place once more. "What's wrong?" I feel my skin go pale. "Are you alright?"

"It's nothing..."

"It doesn't look like nothing."

"I don't want to mess up the night."

"Why would you think that?"

My glossy eyes blink away images of black gravel and a spinning sky. "The car...I-I can't...get in. I-" My gloomy voice lowers to a whisper.

"Oh...damn." Jace connects the dots. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"The night is ruined."

"Madison, you can't ruin anything looking the way you do." He kisses between my brows. "We'll fly instead." Jace holds my hand in his and guides me inside.

He's not mad?? I'm sure there's a reservation. No way he is this chill about my annoying excuse. Jace is just being nice to pacify me. Why can't I get into a fucking car?! What is wrong with me?! Isn't therapy supposed to help???

I get a handle on my mind once I'm in the elevator. Jace types on his blackberry in one swipe, then pockets it. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize."

"I feel bad. Don't we have a reservation?"

"We do...but we'll get there faster flying." He tugs me closer to his side. "How can I fix your feeling bad?"

My brow arches. "Hmmm...you could kiss it better."

"Where?"

"You dirty thing!"

"You didn't specify where."

"Where do you think I meant?"

"Let's keep the first date clean, shall we?"

"I want to know."

He watches the elevator floors blink. There are 15 total: we're on the 3rd level. Jace's hanging hair channels prince charming, so does the bright, luxurious suit. "Beg me to tell you."

"I don't beg."

"Then you'll never know."

"I can guess it right."

"You can try."

"Between my legs and up?"

"No."

"My breasts."

"No."

"Lips."

"No."

I huff. "Forehead, neck, ears, chin, cheeks?"

He laughs at my desperate guesses. "Not close at all."

"Feet?"

"No."

"Tell me!"

"You're used to getting your way, aren't you?"

"Yes, so do as I say."

"I don't hear a please."

I shove away from him. "You never will." I fold my arms and glare at the floor numbers.

"Here's a hint...pressure points."

Hmm...pressure points? That's the first I heard of that as a kissing method. Where exactly? How long and how rough? There are hundreds of pressure points on the human body. I need to know where, but Jace won't cave unless I plead. I will never do that. Men beg for me, not the other way around.

The rooftop is full of exhaust fans and vents. There's a flat spot decent enough for our ride to land. "Jet or helicopter?"

"Helicopter."

"Are you sure it can land here?"

"I'm not...but it will."

"Reckless." I wag a finger his way.

Jace examines it. "We can practice our handicraft while we wait." He seduces. "Although I think yours is fine with how you handle bottles."

"I think yours is fine too...by how you handled my back." I edge closer to him.

"What should we do with our skills?"

"Well...I'm choosing payback."

"Explain what you mean by payback?"

I close in on him and brush my lips down his chin, to his throat. I hear a groan. Jace sandwiches me against him. My mouth clamps over his Adam's Apple. My teeth imprint on it. My lips wrap around it. I suck on the lump three times...before backing off. "Beg."

"After you."

"You'll be waiting forever." I skip to the middle of the roof. The wind rustles my hair as if I'm atop a mountain. I gaze up for the helicopter.

The skyscrapers stretch from the ground; shaded dark and lit by square windows. The moon is full and bright. Stars scatter the sky. I peep over my shoulder at Jace. He watches me. His dark hair blows in the wind so majestically. The loose strands cutting across his face muddle my mind.

I tread back to him...spelled by his gusting hair. I tuck it behind his ears. His olive irises blaze underneath the moonlight like a vampire. He's too phenomenal to be a living, breathing being. Too perfect to want me. "Why do you want me?" I ask softly.

He cups my elbows into his palms. The acidic sensation returns to sizzle my skin. "I'll tell you everything over dinner."

"You could tell me now." I frown.

"Later."

I don't like how he's withholding things from me! It's infuriating. Why can't he just answer? The sound of helicopter propellers echo in the distance. My hair flutters in the air. The winged machine speeds our way. Jace takes my hand to guide me forward. Our fancy rags flap like flags in the wind.

The copter hovers before declining in height. I duck from the slicing blades as if I'm at risk of decapitation. The metal is nowhere near my head. The whooshing irons beat the air. I eye the stepping ledge on the craft. Worried about how high it is from the pavement.

I'm going to fall.

My bone straight back must have given me away. Jace helps me inside; his stable hold on my back eases me enough to step aboard. I won't fall.

Jace buckles me in once we're inside. He tightens the strap across my lap twice, then passes me a headset. I place it on while he applies his seatbelt and thumbs up the pilot. The doors slide closed. The craft ascends and dives forward. My stomach loses a battle with gravity; I clutch at it. "First time flying?" Jace asks through the headset.

"Yeah."

"You'll get used to it."

"What about your car?"

"I commanded it to drive home."

"Show off."

"Only a lot." His lips pinch to the side in a curl. "You look like a goddess."

"Not with my hair like this." I flatten the messy bob down at the sides.

"An air goddess then."

I grin, remembering what Jess termed him as. "And you're a beauty god...or a booty god, whichever you prefer." I peer out the window at the city, which resembles a miniature playset.

It's crazy how small the enormous buildings are. The high rises remind me of a toy town I had when I was a kid.

The rooftop restaurant is caged in by tall buildings and set with white linen tables. A long, decorative one lines the center, displaying ice buckets full of wine bottles. The place is candlelit. A bluish platform looks down on the main area, acting as an accent color to the dark wood and cream scheme. A live pianist performs Moonlight Sonata on a forte.

I comb my fingers through my hair before exiting an industrial elevator. The tables are occupied by guests who belong on the red carpet. This is an elite event, for sure.

I was dumb to think I'd stick out like a sore thumb.

The men are in formal suits. The women are graciously reserved in their runway gowns. I drape my arm around Jace's and mimic their posture, high chin, and eased eyes. "You learn fast, I see."

"I'm a good observer, sir."

"How good?"

"I pride myself on it."

"How well does that work with dancing?" He steers us to a table near the railing.

"It works well. I've learned new dances on the spot."

"Have I finally discovered your interest?"

"Maybe...I don't know. I don't dance that much anymore." He pulls out my chair, so I can sit. A few guests rudely glimpse my way, as if I'm forbidden to be here. As if I'm the elephant in the room. "Tough crowd, huh?"

"Very." Jace sits. "This is a whitelist event. That's why you're getting the eye. None of them know who you are."

"You've never brought a girl like me here?"

"No."

"Ever?"

"No...I usually dine with established women."

"Why am I the exception?"

A waiter in a white suit sets two glasses on the table. "What brand, sir." His French accent is watery and thick.

"Adrianna Vineyard."

The waiter glides to the center table for the beverage and returns, twisting off the cork. He then fills our glasses. "And meal?"

"Saffron risotto with forest mushrooms."

"Lovely choice, sir. The order will arrive promptly."

"Thank you."

The waiter bows before setting off to a side kitchen, where chefs chop, stir, and fry food. "How do you know I'll like that?"

"Trust me, it's impossible to hate." He sips on the wine. "Now, back to your dancing. Have you ever done salsa or tango?"

"No. Are those your favorite?"

"Yes, I think they'll be yours too. We can attend competitions if you want."

"Fancy." I drink. "Have you ever won any?"

"Five." I flatten the top of my hair. "You look great, don't worry. Have you ever done competitions?"

"I won three dance trophies in high school: other than that, no."

"Impressive." His x-ray eyes study my hands.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Dancing with you...your hands belong on me."

My teeth nibble my bottom lip. "Do they?" I simmer.

The waiter sets down steaming plates of yellow rice. There are leaves, meat, and mushrooms spread atop it. "Bon appétit."

"Merci pour l'excellent service, monsieur." Jace is shocked by my fluent pronunciation.

"De rien, Madame." The man swoops low again and then taps away.

"I didn't know you spoke-"

"I don't...I heard it in a movie before."

"Still, that was impressive."

"Merci, Monsieur." I examine the eight utensils, forks, spoons, and knives. I recall having etiquette training for prom night, but none of that stuck. I'm lost. Which is the dinner fork and knife?

"Need help?" He chooses the fork and knife closest to the plate.

"I'm so déclassé," I copy him.

"No, you're learning quick. Soon you'll fool everyone here. The waiter already labeled you classy."

I poke at the yellow meal, raising the fork with my pinky out. I chew, then reach for a napkin to pat my mouth. The risotto is so mushy and creamy, so zesty and tangy. I hold my compliment to avoid speaking with a full mouth. "Okay...you were right." I mumble satisfaction.

"Told you so." Jace's electrifying eyes latch onto mine.

"You didn't answer me. Why am I an exception?"

"I'll start at the beginning. Eat; your food will get cold." This time I listen; I don't want to interrupt him with my attitude. Jace leans back in his chair. I guess he doesn't care about his food getting cold. "I thought you were just another hot bartender. A snarky little thing playing hard to get. I didn't expect to have my mind blown. You held $84 billion...how did it feel?"

I almost choke on the wine. "$84 billion?!"

"Oh...that's only 12% of my finances." He boasts.

"Maybe I should have stolen the wallet after all." I jab.

"It wouldn't have been the first. I've had women steal from me. Women who were high in society. While others asked for cash upfront. I'm not used to a humbled woman. I was glad that shitty drink brought me back to you. You were refreshing. I craved your singularity. I planned on seeing you every Sunday from then on. Then the accident occurred..." I detect despair in his eyes. "I had no clue why I was so devastated by the news. You were a stranger. I don't normally care for someone I don't know. I'm still wondering why I do. I'm still not entirely sure. All I know is I had to save you from those simpleton doctors."

"I heard the conversation. I didn't think it was you. My mind couldn't process it being you."

"Do you remember the helicopter ride?"

I rake my mind. All I recall is the darkness from the coma. "No..."

"I rode with you. I didn't leave your side for two days. I couldn't...not until you were stable. I skipped work. My CFO and co-manager sorted business while I was away. I selected emergency as the excuse for my absence."

"Why?" I blink, parting my lips.

Jace's eyes drop to them. "You've probably heard this before...there's a shine to you." Oh...does he mean my virginity? What does he mean by shine? Is there an aura I'm unaware of?? "I have to know what it is."

"I could tell you."

"No, I'll come to a conclusion soon enough."

I consume the risotto, Jace does the same. There's a long silence. I sense his mind evaluating me. The pianist scales the keys. Wind surges the rooftop. I glance past the railing to look down at the city streets. So many headlights occupy the roads. The surrounding skyscrapers catch my attention next. Each window is lit white like spotlights.

His burning stare breaks my gazing. "Have you worked it out?"

"It's your energy."

"That's not it." I sip.

"That has to be it."

"No."

"Your skincare, perhaps?"

"Yes, and no...I mean, it helps, but that's not the actual reason."

"I don't like being wrong."

"I could tell you."

He stands from the table and takes my hand. "Let's dance." I'm taken to the neon blue platform.

The walk there is like a walk of judgment, mostly from women. They scowl at me with so much prejudice. I ignore the harsh stares and climb the stairs. I'm close to Jace's height in these heels. There's only a two-inch difference. I lay my hands on his shoulders while he holds my back.

"You shouldn't touch me there," I speak into his ear. "I'm thinking back to the office."

"Good, there'll be no need for dessert if I hear you moan." He sways me from side to side. "How does my hand feel?" He rubs his palm around the middle of my back.

My skin is bare back there. My skin cells crackle. An icy-hot sensation overwhelms my flesh. "Umm...like, cold lava that's...hot. If that makes sense."

"Interesting...how about this?" Jace compresses me against him. Our waists collide. A large bulge stabs me. I bury my mouth into his suit collar to muffle a moan. "Well, that explains it." He presses his mouth behind my ear.

My hands scroll to his chest and squeeze. Jace mumbles delightfully. "We shouldn't do this in public."

"I have a better place." His lips graze across mine. Teasing a kiss. "The island...this weekend."

"Another order?" My paraplegic lips ask.

"Yes." He continues the lip taunting.

"What makes you think I'll listen?"

"Because you did the first time."

"If I protest?"

"Then I'll carry you onto the jet."

"I'll scratch you."

"I'll return the favor." His lush lips peck the corners of my mouth.

My face bakes. "Kiss me." I huff out the words.

"No..." I extend my neck, defying him. He clutches a hand around it before I make contact. "Beg."

"I don't do that..."

"You hate it, don't you?" He grins cockily. "Now you know how I felt when you rejected me."

"I'm sorry...now kiss me." I yank at his hand on my neck, but he's stronger than I am. I fail at releasing it.

"My island this weekend...I'll consider kissing you then."

#Romance
#Love