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“I want this job.”
“Not with Evans.”
“Why not him?”
“He’s a bad man.”
“He seemed nice.”
The elevator stops midway down, and when I glare at a group of men who seem to be thinking about entering, they remain on their floor. As the doors shut and we continue the descent, my finger brushes across the red Stop button.
Michela’s gaze is on the elevator control panel. I bet she’s wondering what I’ll do.
“Do you like him?” flies out of my mouth before I can filter it. A mistake to ask as it shows my cards, but I can’t take it back. This bird makes me act irrationally.
“What if I do?” She juts her chin. “He has a job, wears a nice suit, and made me a cup of coffee to break the tension of the job interview.”
“Tell me one thing. Which turns you on more? The nice guy in a suit making you coffee, or the one who hits the Stop button and pins you against the wall?”
Michela’s face flushes bright red.
She’s thought about it.
Just before we reach the ground floor, I hit the button. In two steps, I’m on her. Wrapping both hands around her throat, I force her chin up with my thumbs. Her face heats even more.
“If I stuck my hand up your skirt, I would find you wet. Am I right?” I kiss the tip of her cute nose. “What’s the matter, hm? A minute ago, you were defiantly telling me about another man. Since you seem to have lost your voice now, and the people downstairs need a ride in this space we’re occupying, you will reach between your legs and touch yourself.”
Michela’s eyes search my face, and I squeeze her throat a little tighter.
“Oh God,” escapes her lips, and inwardly, I smile like the Joker from the comics.
“Go on, petit oiseau. Touch yourself.” I fist her skirt and lift it up and over her thighs, then step closer, though not too close. As her hand makes its way between her legs, her wrist brushes against my hard cock.
A tiny gasp parts her lips, and she fumbles with her tight skirt and panties. People outside are shouting. Security is coming. They’ve got cameras in here.
The moment she touches herself, she moans. If I don’t stop her, I might shove myself inside her. I bet Michela’s tight and warm, and I bet she’d let me fuck her into the wall.
“That’s enough.” I step back and rake my gaze down her body in its disheveled state. At her long legs and the hand between them. I snatch up her wrist and bring her fingers to my nose for a sniff. “You smell nice. Perhaps I’ll have a taste sometime.” I fix her dress. “Next time you mouth off to me, the thing that shuts you up will be my cock blocking your airway.”
The elevator descends the rest of the way. The doors open to reveal an annoyed Evans standing right outside.
Michela tries to slip past him, but I’m still holding her wrist. She tugs, and I tug back so she’ll stand with me.
“Careful, my friend,” Evans says, glancing at my fingers wrapped around her wrist. “Your inner caveman is showing.”
“My wife likes it.”
“She’d also like the job here,” Michela adds, speaking about herself in third person. “I’m sure you two can work something out.”
Evans manufactures dimples when he smiles.
My wife bats her eyelashes at him.
Is she doing it on purpose? I think she might enjoy riling me up. I release her wrist. “Go get in the car, angel. I need a word with my friend.”
Michela walks away, and I lean in to whisper into Evans’s ear. “Your cute dimples will look like sunken cheeks when I knock all your fucking teeth out for flirting with my wife right in front of me.”
I walk outside, where the sun heats the asphalt, and thick humidity makes it hard to breathe. Michela slips into my car. Honestly, I expected her to walk back toward the metro. I’m sure the staff on her detail would be annoyed they’d have to follow her there instead of taking the weekend off now that I have her.
