“There's no going back now,” Edward mused.
“I wouldn't want to be anywhere without you. That life was a fraud, I was only happy in that house when I was with you. We have the whole world to ourselves now,” she said, and Edward took her in his arms again where they made love through the night, before moving through the forest in the morning, beginning their new lives.
THE END
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Love In An Elevator
“Could you hold that door for me please?”
Shit.
One, two, three, four, five, six... Nine words into my day, and I could already tell that things weren't going to go at all like I'd planned for me today. Nine words, and a scene of the utmost awkwardness was destined to unfold at a nearby point in my impending future, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
But what the hell could I do, honest to God? You can accuse me of secretly wanting this, of having some masochistic desire for such a dreadful situation to unfold, all you want to. You can say that I'm just making up excuses, that I could legitimately have altered the course of events had it been my prerogative to do so. And if that's what you want to believe, then by all means, believe it. But it's not at all the truth- in fact it's nowhere, even at all remotely close to what was really going through my mind in that moment.
The fact of the matter is, I simply had no choice. The laws and dictates of social propriety, manners, and my wish to keep my job all dictated that, at the words “Could you hold that door for me please?”, I must lean forward, push a button to keep the elevator doors from closing, and keep them open long enough for the man in question to climb on board, joining the pair of us already standing in the center of the elevator- and then, letting my fate transpire however it might elect to do from there. It wasn't as though I could go rushing for the “close” button, pretending as though it was an accident as I did so, and in the process shut out my boss from entry, my goddamn boss of all people!
It would have been ridiculous... Suicidal... Or, well, maybe not quite that extreme. Maybe, possibly, I could have redeemed myself after the fact, but it would have taken a hell of a lot of convincing, not to mention possibly spending some time on my knees- not something that was new to me, by any means...
But, it was all too complicated. Having to explain away my actions after the fact would be far more inconvenient, would lead to far too many tangles, compared to if I simply did I was asked at the present moment, behaving considerately and letting my boss climb on. It may have seemed as though I had a choice, but this was more illusion than anything. I was going to have to plunge head first into this most awkward of situations, grit my teeth and bear it, and hope that things didn't get any more progressively awkward than I knew they already would be.
Just as the elevator doors were about halfway closed, and I could scarcely peek out the still open slit, I took a deep breath, leaned forward, and pressed the button that slid them back open once again. Slowly, they unfurled, revealing to me, in plain sight, the view of my boss, smiling at me, and his eyes turning only momentarily to the man standing beside me. I don't think he thought much of him, really, so much as he was simply noting his presence- in other words, he didn't make the connection between Mark and I, or at any rate, not the connection that Mark and I shared secretly with one another. He knew that the two of us worked together routinely, but his knowledge didn't go beyond that. Similarly, Mark, as far as I could devise, had no knowledge of the dynamic between the boss and I. Any awkwardness he seemed to be feeling in that moment was the same sort of awkwardness that any junior employee may tend to feel around a superior. Intimidation, perhaps, a feeling of inferiority or a need to impress. But nothing more than that, really.
I was honestly the only one with a full, complete picture of the scene that had just set itself up in the cramped space of this elevator...
“Good morning, Miss Plemons... Mister Hill,” said Mister Johnson, nodding curtly to both Mark and I as he stepped to my opposite side, and lingering just a little bit longer on me, smiling as he did so, but not elaborating any further on the meaning of this look.
“Good morning, Mr. Hill,” I said, and Mark slightly echoed me, his speech coming at a minuscule delay from my own, in a manner that was almost comical, “Morning Mr. Hill.”
I could detect Mr. Johnson coyly trying to continue looking at me from the corner of his eye, as though he might somehow expect some further manner of recognition on my part, in light of what it was the two of us had shared. I supposed I could understand that, to an extent, but what the hell did he expect me to do? I couldn't well acknowledge our personal connection, showing my hand to Mark in the process, and make things hella awkward on the ride up for us, now could I? At last, when it must have grown apparent to him that he'd received every bit of the recognition from me he would get, he turned slowly away from me, still smiling, still seeming as though he knew perfectly well what was going on, as though he, above either of us in this cramped little space, held the most confidential of knowledge. Though that honor, of course, fell to me, and God did I wish it could be otherwise in that moment.
I needed to break the silence somehow, needed to save my sanity before I started shaking, trembling, stammering from the awkwardness. Above all, I needed to get a grip on myself, knowing full well that I was seriously overreacting right now, and that as long as I could force myself to remain cool-headed, I shouldn't reasonably have been as worried as I was in the present.
“Going up, Mr. Johnson?” I ventured, my voice cracking slightly, and I realized that I sounded like a damn teenager.
“Uh, yes, I'm going to- Well, as it turns out, I'm going to the same floor as the two of you. So that works out perfectly, doesn't it?”
“Oh, great!” I said, feigning an overenthusiastic smile at him- I'm sure I looked like the world's biggest idiot in that moment...
I stared wistfully out the elevator doors as they slowly ground to a close once again, my last view of freedom fading slowly away, and my urge to break out in a run, to lunge from the elevator car and make a break for it before things became too stifling for me, was one that I knew, despite my most burning wishes, I would have to suppress. God help me, as bad as my skin was prickling, as hotly as my ears were burning, and as clearly as the sweat was beginning to pour down along my chest and spine, I knew I could get through this in short enough order- I just needed to get my head back out of places where it didn't belong, and believe that things were going to be okay.
The elevator doors closed, sealing the three of us inside together. I was now trapped with the two men, and my blood pressure was in the vicinity of bursting through the ceiling.
We began to make our ascent, and I locked my eyes forward as the elevator lunged upward, messing with my stomach as it generally had a habit of doing. I closed my eyes, then, only as long as I thought I could manage to do so without calling attention to myself. I inhaled a deep breath, steadying my nerves, and gradually released it back out, not daring to look to either side of me, and my heart beating faster, faster, faster, with the passing of each minute.
I knew... I knew damn well, in fact, that I was making entirely too massive a deal out of all this. There was honestly no sense in it. I was being childish, ridiculous, making a mountain out of a mole hill, as the hackneyed but wholly appropriate saying went. I mean God damn, what was this, really? A thirty second or so elevator ride up a few floors of a building, up, up, up, up, sandwiched between two men, two professional men, and co-workers, no less- what the hell could I possibly be imagining that would make this all feel like the end of the world? What, seriously, did I envision happening that could spell the unquestioned ruining of my day, and possibly my life? Was I really that melodram
atic, really that self absorbed? I was being so God damn foolish....
Or was I?
These might have been “just two men,” but they weren't just “any two men.” These were two men whose conflicting roles in my life could cause things to become very complicated for me should their worlds collide, as they seemed to be doing in spite of me at this very point in time. It may have only been an elevator ride to the top, but it was the proximity of these two, the bringing together of these forces in my life, that caused me to tremble and to sweat with uncertainty.
I continued to breathe, to steady myself as the elevator groaned its way skyward, and from the corner of my eye I proceeded to consider both men, to contemplate them- not that this would reasonably mitigate my anxiety in the least, really, but at least it was something to occupy me, keep me from getting too dizzy.
Mr. Johnson, unfortunately, caught me eyeballing him from the corner of his periphery, and smiled at me in reaction. I had no choice but to return his grin uncomfortably, sweat beginning to trickle down my forehead as I did so, until at last he turned away, and I breathed a slight, nasal sigh of relief. I was more careful this time around, then, as I chanced yet another glance in his direction from the corner of my eye, giving him a good once over, and reflecting on the role he'd played in my corporate life up to this point (not to mention other areas of my life that I would be best not to dwell upon right here and now, honestly.)
Mr. Johnson was a bit older than me- quite a bit older, in fact. Technically speaking, he was old enough to have been my father, although that wasn't to say he was a geezer, or anything like that. I was in my late twenties at the time, and he somewhere in the vicinity of middle age. He had salt and pepper hair, and a suave, sophisticated demeanor- like I said, hardly any sort of old geezer. I mean hell, if it was any indication, he practically ran this damn company from the very top, with an immense strength, a stamina, a drive that any of the firm's younger employees genuinely tended to lack. And God, was he handsome...
Even in my state of awkward befuddlement, I couldn't help but let my desires for this man's appearance get the best of me. He always dressed so sharp and sophisticated, with his suave suits and his expensive haircuts. Plus, at his age, I knew him to be a major workout enthusiast- although, I must say, I don't know when the hell he might have found the time for such things, as I myself did yoga two or three times a week, and I found it nearly impossible to try and balance it with my own hectic work schedule, missing classes far more often than I would really care to admit, despite my best intentions. This man was, truly, a miracle worker of sorts, as far as balancing out his life was concerned- and I say that in more ways than one...
I caught my breath after a while, then, blinking, and though I shouldn't really be doing this, I turned next to Mark, standing on my opposite side, and I gave him a similar looking over from the corner of my eye.
Mark, in contrast with Mr. Johnson, was a young stud, blonde and similarly strong, but with that extra youthful vigor that served to distinguish him from my boss. He was, suffice it to say, beneath me at the company, but a highly promising, rising star. I hoped his ambitions wouldn't quite get him to the point where he passed me on his climb to the top, given how very hard I'd worked to get where I was. But he certainly showed promise, and had gone out of his way to strengthen the firm in his relatively brief time spent here. And that was saying a hell of a lot, given that he was even younger than I was, fresh faced, and hot out of college, looking to get his foot in the door as far as flinging himself into the job market was concerned.
If you asked me, so far he'd done one hell of a job at it...
When you got right down to it, then, I was standing sandwiched between two alpha males- or, if you want to split hairs, a fully accomplished alpha male, as well as a prospective alpha male in training, but well on his way to achieving the goals he desired out of life. There was, of course, an inherent intimidation about this for me, but it was nothing compared to the more specific, tangible tensions that had been mounting ever since those words were uttered, “Could you hold that door for me please?”
I found myself holding my breath as my eyes burned, beaming at the lights above the elevator door that were there to indicate our climb toward the top of the building, DING, DING, DING, DING, DING, halfway there, halfway there, halfway there, it's almost over, it's almost over, I'll be able to breathe again soon enough...
And then, suddenly, I found myself shrieking- there was a huge, turbulent rumble, the entire car shaking and nearly toppling me forward into the closed doors- Mr. Johnson, mercifully, grabbed me by the arm before my skull could smack into the metal, and my skin prickled fiercely at his touch.
“Are you alright?” both men asked, nearly at once, and I nodded dumbly, chest on fire as I tried to catch my breath, and gradually the realization dawned on me as to what had just happened- the lights, suddenly, flickered off, and we'd stopped moving. A dimmer set of emergency lights flashed on in reaction to the shorting out of the power, and the three of us froze, dumbly, staring at the control panel, as though somehow we were confused about what it was that had just so clearly happened.
Mark took the initiative first, scrambling for the control panel, and wildly pressing buttons, knowing, all the while as he did so, that he would receive no response- I could have told him that. Mr. Johnson, then, leaned in to take his place, but instead of wildly pressing buttons, he went for the emergency call switch, hoping that it may lead to a response.
But there was no luck...
“It... It looks as though we're trapped,” said Mr. Johnson, stepping back calmly, and I noticed that Mark was identically calm as well. As it turned out, I was the only member of the trio who was practically hyperventilating, sweat rolling down my body- damn, was it hot in here- and running down dangerous avenues in my mind, forecasting all sorts of dreadful things that could happen during the time it might take for things to be repaired.
But honestly, could you really blame me? I'd known, I'd forecasted, that my day was going to go just about like this, from the moment Mr. Johnson had originally stepped on board.
I was trapped, in an elevator, sandwiched between my two co-workers, the only two men with whom I was currently sexually active- and neither of them knew that the other was sleeping with me...
____
They say it's hard for a girl in this world to make her way to the top. That may be true for some girls, but for others, all it takes is a willingness to spend a little bit of time on the bottom first- which I most certainly had been...
Now, from the get-go, I should say that my wish is not at all to mischaracterize the nature of the relationship shared by Mr. Johnson and I. Nor do I wish to make myself sound like a total whore by implying that my only asset in rising to the top of the food chain here has been by sleeping with my higher-ups. I mean, that sort of thing certainly doesn't hurt a girl's odds one bit, but that seriously wasn't the nature of what Mr. Johnson and I shared.
God, Mr. Johnson... Referring to him in that way does make it seem like I was completely subordinate to him sexually indeed, that the very assumptions you may be making about my climb to the top are in fact grounded in reality. Harry is what I normally called him, at least when it came to our, ahem, extracurricular involvement with one another. We were complete equals when it came to any and all matters of the bedroom, although that certainly wasn't to say our lovemaking was devoid of that spicy, sub/dom dynamic. But I wasn't, on any day of the week, my boss's whore, and my job security, at no point would have been compromised by what the two of us chose to do or not to do between the sheets, of our own free will, and on our own time.
Let me just say this... Harry, or Mr. Johnson, or whatever the hell you might want to call him from this point onward, was like a mentor for me, in any and every way. I certainly owed my rise to the top to him, but it wasn't simply a matter of me simply giving him a blowjob under his desk and him promoting me as a reward. Rather, I was completely under his tutelage, and he'd
taught me everything he knew, schooled me in just about every applicable field which would help me in life- be it socializing, networking, communication, politics, investment strategies- and yes, in fact, sexuality.
Honestly, it was hard to fully explain, even to myself, sometimes, what it was that Harry and I shared. To some extent, I could understand his interest in me. I was young, supple, full of energy and life. I'd always been a girl you might consider attractive, with long chestnut hair, seductive green eyes, a face close to that of a model. I was, quite simply, a very sexy girl- a very kinky girl, even- and it was unsurprising that a man of power such as him might have wanted me.
What was more surprising, I suppose, was that I wanted him... And it wasn't simply motivated by a desire to get ahead in my line of work either- as I expressly stated earlier, I am no prostitute. I respect myself and my body, and would never sleep with someone just to advance in my field (again, though, I'll admit freely that it doesn't hurt one's career prospects, but I merely considered it a side effect of the affair.)
I was hardly a virgin or anything when Harry and I began sleeping together... I'd had my fun over the years, sowed my wild oats as it were... Only- well... Maybe I hadn't been all that wild, actually. Not a virgin, but not hyper-sexual either. Which isn't to say I didn't like sex either. I just didn't... Didn't click with my peers as much, I suppose. Lots of guys hit on me, sure. And a few lucky studs made it past my defenses and into my panties- but almost always, they were simple flings, rolls in the hay, nothing to really be taken all that seriously. I can think of maybe only one serious relationship I was in throughout college, and that only lasted for a few months before I deemed the guy I was with to be too childish, and moved on.
Savage Urges Page 4