His strong hands around hers tightened a little. He leaned on the elevator wall and pulled her between his legs.
The intimate action brought her against his groin. She concentrated on the delicious feel of his hard thighs against hers, his sincere blue eyes searching hers. He held her hands, but slowly let go of one and reached to press the red alarm button on the panel.
Chrissie watched.
“Tell me about the interview. Debrief, just as if I’m a friend.” Dylan used the hand he’d freed to hold her face gently.
Chrissie’s fear sloshed around in her stomach, but his touch helped. It soothed and calmed. She haltingly told him in a whisper.
“I practiced and planned and hoped, but I think I made a hash of it. My desire to get the job actually prevented me from doing my best.” She told him about not sleeping and the dry cleaning and then about her cell phone. When she realized she didn’t have a cell phone with her, and was stuck in an elevator, nausea rippled through her. She felt herself pale.
Dylan must have seen it because he stroked her cheek. “Don’t worry, I have one, a cell phone, but they’ll know we’re stuck. Even now, someone will be working to get us moving again. You got the job, by the way. I think that it’s okay to tell you.”
Chrissie leaned against him. She inclined her head to his fingers as he stroked her cheek. She felt hot, her mouth dry with fear. “How do you know? Are you sure?”
Dylan smiled. “Oh yes. Your presentation was outstanding. We’re very impressed with your ideas and you’ll make a great addition to the creative team. You’ll find an email offering you the job when you check.”
Chrissie stepped a little away from the enclosure of his thighs. She ran a hand over her forehead. “I’m hot. I’d like to take my jacket off. That’s so great about the job. I hope you’re right.”
Dylan let go of her. “Sure.”
The jacket lining stuck a little to her arms and back where she’d started to sweat. She dropped it onto the floor and turned to see Dylan had taken his jacket off too.
He stood watching her with interest written on his face.
“How are you feeling?”
“Not great, but better than if I was alone. Well, I would have taken the stairs, but I’m glad you’re here with me,” she gabbled.
Dylan loosened his tie, and rolled up each sleeve of his shirt as he listened.
The action fascinated Chrissie. She licked her dry top lip as his lightly tanned skin, covered with fine dark hair was revealed. She wanted to be back in the space between his thighs. She longed for the stroke of his fingers on her face. She brought her gaze from his muscled chest to his face and a frown creased between her eyes, bringing a dull pain. He’s so lovely. Who is he?
****
Dylan watched Chrissie Forbes wilt.
He’d liked her the moment he saw the back view of her shapely ass as he ran for the elevator that morning. He drank in the light fragrance of her hair and thought about ‘accidentally on purpose’ taking the comb from it so that it cascaded down her back. He’d watched her discomfort as she answered his question in the interview, but he knew why. He could read a woman’s desire for him. He’d seen the look many times, but this young woman was different somehow. Her look wasn’t greedy. It was giving. She gazed at him and it lit something in his soul. He wanted her too. He made sure he exited the interview office quickly, hoping to catch her before she left. Hoping to ask her to have coffee and give her a tour of the building.
He knew from the level of light in the elevator that this was a power cut and the fail safe light had triggered. The emergency brake would be on. The engineers and maintenance people in the company would wait for a short time before they did any drastic rescue. They’d call the power supply company and check what was happening. If need be they’d force the doors and get them out, but between floors was always messy. Dylan knew, because he’d been in this situation before. He saw her lick her lip. He held out his arms. He couldn’t offer her anything else.
Chrissie stepped into his arms.
He rubbed his face in the top of her hair. Strands fell out of the comb.
She lifted her head to look at his face.
She looked sexy, pale, a little disheveled, but so pretty.
He kissed her. Chrissie responded with a kiss that sent tingles to his balls and tightened his stomach. Dylan traced the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue. When she opened her mouth and her tongue met his, the rush of desire that went straight down his body hardened his cock. He explored her mouth and tongue with his. Each touch made his cock jerk and grow until he felt the tip against the waistband of his shorts.
“You know, if this was a movie we’d have sex and the time would fly by, then we’d be saved.” He kissed her between phrases, wondering what she would do if he unzipped her skirt and the shell top she wore so that he could knead her breasts and push his fingertips against her pussy. The thought brought a low groan to his throat and a pearl of moisture leaked from his cock.
“If this was a movie, you’d lift me up to the trap door in the roof of the elevator and I’d climb out and escape.” She smiled at him.
“I’ll lift you up there, you can check if you want, but I have no idea where you might escape to. That’s never been clear in the movies.” He bent and picked her up under the thighs. It was easy. She was slender and small. Dylan experienced a moment of complete lust when he realized he’d brought her pussy against his face. Even clad in her skirt he could feel the shape of her mound against his cheek as he turned his face a little. He nearly stumbled when he took the step to the center of the floor from the raw need she ignited in him. He pictured sucking her clit, licking her pussy, kissing down the insides of her thighs.
Chrissie laughed and vibrations from her ass on his forearms went straight down into his stomach in waves of desire. He closed his eyes as he moved his face and nestled into her. Her skirt rode up. He bent his head to push his face up under her skirt.
She put her hands on his shoulders. “The trap door won’t move. Dylan, let me down.”
Surrounded by the scent of her skin and the feel of her thighs through the pantyhose she wore, Dylan forced himself to put her down.
She slid down the front of his body, her skirt going up around her waist.
He pulled her against his hips, his hands cupping her ass. He kissed her hard as he lifted her to grind his hard cock against her. “Chrissie.” His whisper sounded like a plea, even to his ears.
She surged up against his body, pushing against him, to return his kiss.
She put her arms around his neck.
“Yes,” she whispered against his lips.
Dylan pulled her pantyhose down her thighs. He pushed his fingertips between her legs. She was wet, her cream slippery, and he slid his hand along, and pressed against her clit with his thumb. He heard her low moan against his mouth as he lingered in their kiss. He turned her a little so that he could push two fingers into her pussy, his other arm around her waist to lift her. The warm, wet welcome took his breath away. His cock leaked and throbbed. He pumped his fingers in her as his tongue slid against hers. “You’re smoking hot. I need you badly.” He murmured the words.
Dylan enjoyed her moans. She likes this. She’s so wet.
Her hands trailed down his chest. She fumbled with the zip of his suit pants.
He heard it pull down and then she’d dipped her hands into his shorts. When she grasped his rock hard cock, he groaned, the raw sexual pleasure so great, he had to leave kissing her lips, and rest his mouth against her cheek.
She stroked his cock.
He thrust into her hands. He curled his fingers in her pussy to stroke her G spot, give her more pleasure as his thumb pressed circles on her clit. He heard her gasp, felt the sudden rocking she did with her hips, her mound against his hand, and on his fingers. His legs weakened. His orgasm teased at him, hovering just out of reach in his balls and between his legs, as she stroked and grasped his cock. “Chrissie, this is killin
g me. Can we…?” He didn’t finish because she licked his earlobe and whispered.
“Yes.”
She pushed his hand from her pussy slowly.
The loss made him groan.
She bent to take his suit pants and shorts down to his knees.
Her kiss and lick on the head of his cock forced a moan from him.
He watched her pull her pantyhose off and secure the hem of her skirt in the waistband so that her flat stomach, the curve of her hips, the v of her pussy teased him.
He lifted her against the wall.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and with one hand between their bodies, guided his cock into her creaming pussy.
Dylan moaned with every inch as his cock was enveloped in her tight, slick warmth.
She sank down on his cock, and the tip of her tongue found his. Her kiss made his stomach flip.
He started to thrust up into her pussy, levering her against the elevator wall. Thrust after thrust until a film of sweat coated his back. He felt her come. Her pussy clenched and milked his cock. Her lips stilled against his mouth as she gasped. Dylan pounded, and lifted her onto his cock up and down, in strokes that sent him reeling. His orgasm flowed over him, between his legs, under his balls, up his cock, swirling, throbbing, pulsing, until he swore and sucked on her neck. “Fucking hell…fuck…” He groaned and then smiled. The smile turned into a soft laugh against her neck. He lifted his head. “That was so fucking good. I feel as if I’ve never had an orgasm before that was so fucking intense…so good…” He kissed her mouth.
Her returning kiss was so delicious he sighed against her mouth, lingered to kiss again.
Chrissie held his shoulders. “It was…yeah…it felt like heaven.”
Dylan held her close. Tenderness crept over him. He liked her so much. He kissed her softly.
The lights changed, becoming brighter. The elevator lurched, dropped a little. The movement woke them from their fog of lust.
His cock throbbed in her pussy. He sighed. “The power’s back. Sorry, darling.”
He lifted her off his cock and let her down to stand on the floor. He dragged his shorts and pants up.
Chrissie pulled her skirt down. She pushed her discarded pantyhose in her jacket pocket, holding it by the collar.
Dylan helped her tidy her looks as the elevator began to descend to the ground floor.
He picked up his jacket and her folder.
Chrissie picked up her bag.
Dylan smoothed strands of her hair behind her ears. He kissed her by the side of her mouth. “Have coffee with me, please. I can’t just let you go.”
The elevator stopped. The doors opened. The receptionist, two men in blue coveralls, and Martha Cooper stood there. They applauded. Dylan stepped forward.
“Mr. Cross, are you okay? Miss Forbes?” Martha Cooper’s voice reached Dylan through a residual haze of sexual pleasure.
His thighs were weak. He felt completely relaxed. All he wanted was to strip Chrissie naked and pull her close. Be skin to skin with her, and close his eyes against the swell of her breasts.
“We’re fine. I’ll walk Miss Forbes to her car. Thanks, guys.”
He steered Chrissie to the front doors, with a hand in the small of her back.
She stopped halfway there. “Dylan, I must detour into the restrooms…do a quick clean up…”
Dylan understood immediately. “Of course, to the left.” He nodded at the signs for visitor restrooms over a door across the foyer. He watched her go. A smile of pleasure creased his face and he turned to stare out of the doors. I so like this girl…
She was back quickly to stand by his side.
He squashed down his instinct to take her hand. Instead, he smiled at her and pushed open the doors for them to leave the building.
They reached the bright afternoon air and stopped at the bottom of the steps to talk.
“Will you have coffee with me?” he asked again, because previously he’d received no answer.
He looked into her big gray eyes hopefully.
She nodded. “Okay, where? My car is in the parking lot.” She waved toward the visitor area.
A rush of relief and happiness at her answer went through him.
“We can walk to a great coffee shop. Do you want to leave your folder in your car?”
Chrissie smiled. “Yes.” She headed off toward a dark blue Mustang.
Dylan followed.
Chapter Two
Even though in the restroom, where she’d caught what she could of the evidence they’d had sex, a soft wetness coated the inner tops of Chrissie’s thighs. Her pussy pulsed and clenched every time Dylan touched her. His voice sent trickles of desire down her breasts to her nipples.
She unlocked her car with the key from a few steps away, the soft clunk reaching her ears as she approached. At the car, Dylan leaned around and opened the door. The space between his chest and her shoulders charged with feeling. It was unavoidable, he was magnetic, and she leaned against him. She threw the folder onto the back seat and turned her face to his lips.
Instead of kissing her, he stepped back and thrust his hands into his pants pockets.
Chrissie closed the car door as she looked at him.
He stood casually, the light breeze ruffling his dark hair. A sleeve of his shirt had unrolled and it hung around one wrist. His expression was tender, but he kept his distance.
When she went to his side, he set off walking, keeping a space between them on the sidewalk.
Chrissie expected him to hold her hand at least. Doubts tugged at the feeling she’d had that they’d started something that might last. She walked quietly, wondering if this was it. Dylan Cross had fucked her in an elevator to stop her freaking out. A pain of loss planted itself in her heart. It hadn’t felt like that. It was fucking, though. Glorious, steamy, moan inspiring fucking, but it felt tender too, felt like more. She sighed.
“Here we are.” Dylan’s voice broke into her thoughts.
Chrissie saw the front of the coffee shop. Quaint and comfortable, it had white wooden tables and chairs outside with red and white striped umbrellas to match the tablecloths. Dylan led the way in through the door and to a table at the back. He pulled out a chair for her.
Chrissie sat down, tugging at her skirt, only then thinking about her lack of pantyhose, which meant she was naked under it. She watched Dylan bring a chair up close to her.
His eyes full of emotion, he took her hand.
“I don’t want you to think that meant nothing to me…what we did in the elevator. I stepped away from you at your car, because we were so close to the office. We don’t want people saying you got the job because I already knew you. They might think that if they saw me kiss you.”
The flood of relief his words brought surprised her. She nodded to acknowledge what he said, but picked up the little menu to cover her rise of happiness. I shouldn’t feel so much so soon. I don’t know anything about him.
A young woman came along for their order. She wore a red and white striped apron that reached down to her ankles with the ties wrapped around her thin waist twice. The badge on her white T-shirt read ‘Fiona.’
Chrissie ordered spring water and coffee. She felt dehydrated. She watched Fiona walk back to the counter of the coffee shop before she spoke.
“Thank you for helping me calm down in the elevator. I’m claustrophobic, as you no doubt guessed.”
He grinned mischievously at her. “Did I calm you down? You did the opposite for me.” He leaned toward her and kissed her cheek. His hand rested on her knee and worked upwards.
Chrissie’s pussy throbbed as he stroked her leg with his thumb, dangerously high on her inner thigh. Pings of sensation went up into her clit. She put her hand on his to stop him.
Dylan’s eyes looked heavy with desire as he drew back from her. “Sorry, I can’t seem to keep my hands off you.”
Their order arrived. They fell silent.
Chrissie relaxed as she drank som
e spring water and then sipped at her coffee.
“Don’t you have to get back to work, Dylan?” she asked, as she noticed the time on a decorative clock fixed to the wall behind the coffee shop counter.
He put down his cup. “I do, sadly, and I have a business trip this evening. I’d love to catch up with you soon. You know the job requires a quick start. I’m guessing they’ll ask you to start next week.”
Chrissie suddenly felt as if she was back in the interview. “That’s fine. As I said in the interview, I can leave my temp work anytime. The agency knows I’m looking for a permanent position and they know I’m here for an interview. When I’m offered the job, I’ll give them notice. If an offer is in my email when I get home, I’ll call them. Tomorrow can be my last day.”
Dylan smiled. “Great.” He fished in his jacket pocket and took out his cell phone, handing it to her. “Put your number in my contacts. I’ll call you this weekend.”
His fingers touched hers.
A jolt of attraction went up her arm and her nipples hardened. His smartphone was the same model as hers. She found the contacts and added her number. When she gave the cell phone back to him, he gazed into her eyes.
“I want to kiss you here, because I won’t be able to at your car.”
The kiss gave Chrissie the most exquisite melting feeling. A rush of wetness heated her pussy. Her nipples chafed at the lace of her bra. She slid her hand along his jaw to prolong the kiss.
When they finally broke away from each other, they both sighed.
Dylan walked closer to her side on the way back to the office and her car, but in the car park, he moved rapidly away. “I’ll call.” He gave a little wave and took the steps to the glass doors two at a time. Before he went into the building, he turned to look at her. His eyes were dark.
She opened her car, tossed her jacket and bag on the passenger seat, and slid into the driver seat. The leather felt cool on her bare thighs. She stared through the windscreen at the office building for a moment and then started the car. On the drive home, she thought about Dylan’s touch on her inner thigh. Her pussy throbbed in response.
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