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One corner of his mouth raises. “Lots of women would ask that question to get a rise out of a man, but you honestly don’t realize how you affect me.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear as his cologne tickles my nose.
“I….” I lick my lips again. As much as I want to kiss him, I can’t. His lips hover inches from mine, and he clasps the back of my head, hauling me forward. Heat radiates off him, and my bag smacks against my thigh–not that I feel it. Being near him is like floating in the sky.
He’s like a drug. I know he’s bad for me, but I can’t walk away. I crave him.
“I miss kissing you. It’s been five days.” He leans down, and my knees buckle. The elevator jerks to a stop, and I tumble into him. His free hand moves from the elevator panel and clutches my back, pulling me against him. “Tell me you haven’t missed this.”
I grab his biceps as I teeter backward, almost losing my balance. Of course, I’ve missed this. I’m not an idiot but he has a girlfriend. A model girlfriend. What in the hell is he doing with me? “I….”
He nuzzles my jaw, and my panties spontaneously combust. Oh, what the hell. I’m already destined to die in a fiery pit of despair for all the lustful things I’ve envisioned doing with him the last two days. Check that. The last three months.
I arch into him, pressing my stomach against his stiff erection. He groans in response, pulls me flush against his body, and smashes his mouth against mine.
God, yes. My eyelids flutter shut, and I push everything else out of my mind. I block out the present I lied about having already purchased. I forget we’re in an elevator at work where anyone could catch us. I lose track of how long we stand there groping and stroking along each other’s bodies until we’re gasping for air. I push away thoughts of his girlfriend. I pretend I’m not a twenty-two-year-old virgin who’s never going to land a hot pro football player. And I come alive.
I drag my hands through his hair and wrap my leg around his. I press my clit into his thigh to relieve the pressure that’s building like a wave. A tidal wave big enough to capsize a cruise ship. And take things that aren’t mine to have.
His hand tugs at my shirt until he has the space needed to press his rough palm against the flesh of my back. “I need this. I need you. Come home with me.”
“What?” I blink and pull back as I try to understand the words he’s saying, but the haze of lust is too thick to form a coherent thought.
His fingers slip down the front of my jeans, and he swipes his fingertip over my clit. Oh fuck. Is this real?
“I want you. Tell me you want me. I can feel it.” His eyes glow as his nostrils flare with desire. “But I need to hear it.” He flicks my clit and repeatedly swipes over the tight nub. My head spins. It feels so good. He feels so good. I moan and dig my nails into his flesh. “That’s it, baby. Tell me how much you like it.”
“It’s so good,” I croak out as my walls convulse. “Oh, God.”
Ring. Ring. The front pocket of his jeans vibrates.
Son of a bitch. My eyes fly open, and I jump back, dislodging his hand from my pants. “I…. I…,” I gasp and try to catch my breath. “I can’t do this.” I spin on my heel and smash my hand against the lobby button. The elevator lurches to life.
“Why?” The pained tone of his voice makes tears spring to my eyes, but I stare straight ahead at the seam between the doors, willing them to open and send me to safety. I’ve got to find a different job. This one is too dangerous. I clutch my bag to my chest.
“Why?”
The door swings open. “Why else? You have a girlfriend. I’m not–” I choke on a sob. I can’t even say what I’m not. I’ve already done it. And fuck if I don’t want to keep doing it. He’s the kind of guy I’ve always wanted in a boyfriend. He’s like my father–big, strong, determined, successful, but unlike my father, he’s unfaithful, and that’s not what I’m looking for.
A tear slips down my cheek, and I scurry across the lobby floor. Get away–now. Go before you find out how weak you are. How immoral you are.
Hell, I know the answer to both those questions.
