ALL THAT HE WANTS (Volume 1 The Billionaire's Seduction) by Olivia Thorne

losing a lot of battles this way.
    “You’re the boss.”
    “And don’t you forget it.”
    “Be nice,” I said, nudging him.
    He looked down at me, amused. “Why should I?”
    “Because he’s just looking out for you.”
    The elevator door dinged and slowly opened.
    “Remind him of that someday when his ass gets killed,” Johnny said to me, then stepped out into the hallway and looked in both directions.
    “What does that mean?” I asked Connor, a little worried.
    “It means Johnny’s overprotective, is what it means. Coast clear?”
    Johnny nodded, and we stepped out.
    It was a short hallway, only about twenty feet long, but it was incredibly beautiful. Thick, luxurious carpet… dark wood paneling… another, smaller chandelier casting its soft light from the ceiling… and a massive mahogany door across from the elevator. Next to the door was a tiny obsidian panel, like a baby version of the one in the elevator, with a gold keypad next to it.
    “I’m checking out the room first,” Johnny informed us.
    “Fine, as long as you don’t stay,” Connor said.
    Johnny shook his head like Why do I put up with this? , then inserted one of his cards into the panel. A red light blinked, and he tapped out a code on the gold keypad.
    The light turned green, and Johnny pulled out the card, opened the door, and stepped inside. He was gone for about fifteen seconds, and then he came back to the door. “Coast is clear.”
    Connor led me inside by the hand.

5
    The inside of the penthouse was entirely different from the hotel, but no less amazing. Maybe even more.
    The first thing that hit me was all the glass. As in, almost every wall had at least one gigantic window that was at least thirty feet long. The city lights sparkled outside like diamonds on black velvet. I walked over and gazed down at Sunset Boulevard. Two hundred feet below, club-goers marched along the sidewalks like little columns of ants, and the jam-packed traffic moved along an inch at a time.
    On the opposite side of the massive apartment, I could see the Hollywood Hills. In case you haven’t been to LA, just north of Hollywood is a very, very small mountain range that extends for about four or five miles. And on its slopes are some of the most expensive homes in Los Angeles outside of Beverly Hills and Bel Air. A lot of young, hip actors and directors and producers live up there – along with real estate moguls and doctors trying to be young and hip. Plus the occasional drug dealer, from what I’ve heard. But no matter who owns them, they shine like fairy houses in the darkness, tiny outposts of luxury on curving roads and steeper hills.
    I stood there, entranced. Los Angeles can be an ugly place – brown and dry in the summer months, overdeveloped with a thousand grungy strip malls, packed to the gills with way too many people. But seen up here, with the patterns of lights stretching far in the distance… it was magical.
    “Want a drink?” Connor called from the fully stocked bar in the corner of the room. From what I could see, it was all top shelf stuff.
    “Actually, I need to use the little girl’s room to freshen up. Where…?”
    Connor pointed to the left. “Back through the bedroom.”
    I smiled demurely and skedaddled.
    I’ll spare you the details of what I did in there, but I won’t spare the details on the bathroom itself.
    But first… the bedroom.
    It was dark when I walked in. Well, except for the lights from outside. Like the rest of the penthouse, there was a gigantic window. One whole side of the room, in fact, looking out on the Hollywood Hills.
    Okay, I thought, that’s a stunning view, but it’s going to be a pain in the ass when the sun comes up in the morning.
    As I was fumbling around for the light switch, though, I figured out that it wasn’t going to be a problem. I hit some kind of sliding dimmer switch, and the glass went from transparent, to vaguely translucent, to completely opaque. I found myself plunged