Shaft

by Krista Gold

  No! snaps my subconscious. I realize I’m sweating lightly, a thin sheen on my skin.

  You need to focus, Allie. You’re here for an interview, not to daydream about sexy men you’ve shared air space with for ten seconds.

  “Are you alright?”

  I almost jump out of my skin when I hear his voice – and it does nothing to calm the pulsing between my thighs. It’s somehow both smooth and gravelly, and it turns my insides to liquid.

  I turn my head to look at him. God those piercing blue eyes…they’re drilling right into me. Bet you wish that’s not all he was drilling you with, smirks my subconscious, and I blush.

  “Miss? Are you alright? You look a little flushed.”

  He’s frowning at me now, and I realize I’m staring at him blankly. I haven’t responded to his question.

  “Oh!” I say flustered. “Y-yes. I’m fine. Thank you. Just a bit nervous. I have a – a meeting. An important one.”

  I don’t know why I say ‘meeting’ rather than ‘interview’. Actually, that’s not true: I do know. It’s because I want to sound like a professional. I want to give him the impression that I’m someone important, someone with places to go and people to see. Not someone who’s currently employed and interviewing for jobs.

  Sex on Legs studies me for a moment longer, then nods and turns his attention back to the doors.

  Oh god, I feel hot all over now. My cheeks are burning and my blouse, already wet, is sticking even more closely to my clammy skin.

  Even if he does work here, says my subconscious sensibly, and even if you do get the job, do you really think it’s a good idea to be fantasising about your colleagues, Allie ? Because I’d say it is definitely NOT. What’s that saying about dipping your pen in the company ink? It’s a sure way to get a reputation. If not fired.

  Against my better judgment, I sneak another quick look at him. He is actually even hotter now I’m telling myself he’s off-limits, and I groan internally. It’s been ages since I was sexually attracted to someone. Since Sean, my subconscious supplies unnecessarily, and I swat the voice away in irritation. I don’t need any reminders of that cheating scumbag. I’d thought Sean was so sexy when I first laid eyes on him in my local wine bar, with his dark curly hair and soulful eyes. Unfortunately, so did a lot of other girls, and it turned out Sean was chronically incapable of resisting the charms of the fairer sex. I’d caught him in bed with a girl I vaguely recognised from my neighborhood not three months after we’d started dating.

  That had been a year ago, and I hadn’t slept with anyone – or wanted to – since. I’d begun to think Sean had put me off men forever, but it seems there’s hope for my libido after all.

  I’m summoning up the courage to say something when the lights in the elevator flicker and dim. We both look up, and then glance at each other.

  “Probably just the storm,” says Sex on Legs, and I let out a breath.

  “Let’s hope so,” I say shakily. “The last thing I need is to get stuck in an elevator when I’m already running late.”

  The lights settle down, and I breathe a small sigh of relief.

  “So,” I say faux-casually, “do you work here?”

  Sex on Legs studies me for a long moment. “Just started,” he says, eventually. “How about you?”

  I smile. “Oh no, I don’t work here. I’m…”

  I’m cut off abruptly when the elevator gives a sharp jerk. I can’t keep my balance on the high heels I’m wearing, and I topple forward with a startled scream. As if this day couldn’t get any worse, I crash directly into Sex on Legs, throwing him off balance too, and we both tumble onto the beautifully upholstered bench.

  I don’t even have chance to apologise. The elevator screeches to a juddering halt, and we topple to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

  The lights flicker ominously before winking out altogether.

  All I can hear is the creaking of the cables in the yawning shaft above us, and our breathing, mine and his, ragged in the darkness.

  Chapter Five

  Allie

  “Are you alright?” His voice, so close to my ear, makes my skin thrill with gooseflesh.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” I manage breathlessly. “Are you?”

  “Yes.”

  We disentangle clumsily. The darkness is absolute, and I can’t see a thing. I fumble in my purse for my cell phone, and turn on the torch function, sighing in relief as the elevator glows with its limited light. Anything’s better than being stuck in total darkness.

  Sex on Legs looks briefly startled, then nods.

  “Quick thinking,” he says approvingly, and I’m suddenly glad of the low light so that he can’t see my blush.

  “What do we do?” I ask nervously. “Should I call 911?”

  “No, wait. There’s a communication panel somewhere on the…ah! Here. Can you shine the light this way?”

  I do as he asks, illuminating a small panel with a camera and a handset, and watch as he lifts the phone and presses a number on the keypad. He frowns and presses it again, then hangs up.

  “No dial tone,” he says, and I sag against the wall.

  “What do we do now?” I set my phone down, light up, on the bench. It’s a good job this elevator is as spacious as it is, because I’m starting to feel a bit claustrophobic; I can’t imagine how I’d feel if I were stuck in a regular elevator.

  Just then a speaker crackles into life, making us both jump.

  “Ladies and gentlemen… we’re experiencing a temporary power outage due to a lightning strike nearby. Please follow the normal evacuation procedures and leave the building immediately. Please gather in the parking lot directly outside the building. We are aware that one of our elevators is currently paused between floors, but both the camera and communications systems have been affected by the outage. If you are a passenger in the elevator, please do not panic. Emergency services have been contacted and are on their way. I repeat, emergency services have been contacted and are on their way.”

  The speaker goes dead. Sex on Legs looks at me, and I look back.

  “Well, it could be worse,” I say, my voice a little shaky. “We could be huddling in the torrential rain with the rest of your colleagues.”

  He laughs, and my belly flips. God, that laugh! Its rumble resonates in my chest and my belly like the music through speakers at a party.

  “Agreed,” he says. “Although you look like you’ve already been out dancing in it.” He raises a quizzical eyebrow.

  I blush. “Trouble finding a parking space, and then I realized I left my umbrella in my other purse. It’s been one of those mornings.”

  “Ah. So it’s your fault we’re here,” he says reasonably.

  I raise an eyebrow. “Sorry?”

  “Well,” he says, loosening his tie, “I’ve clearly been caught up in your run of bad luck. I’ve never known the elevators here to break down, and then here you are, having ‘one of those mornings’, and now,” he gestures around the elevator, “here we are.”

  “Oh,” I say. Then, indignantly, “Hey! You said yourself that you’ve only just started working here, so how would you know how often the elevators break down? Maybe it’s a daily occurrence here.”

  For a moment, Sex on Legs look surprised, and then his face breaks into a smile. “I did say that, didn’t I?” he says, sounding amused. I shiver, folding my arms across my chest. Immediately he looks concerned.

  “You must be freezing,” he frowns. “You’re soaked through.”

  “Oh, err no, I’m fine,” I stammer unconvincingly.

  “Take off your jacket,” he commands. I shake my head, my face flaming as I think of the coffee stain over my breast.

  “Take it off,” he says again, and I see that he is slipping off his own jacket and holding it out to me. “We could be in here a while.”

  “Oh. Well. Thank you.” My face is burning. I slip out of my jacket and shrug on his as quickly as possible, aware of the fact that my white blouse is now t
ransparent thanks to the rain, and my stiff nipples are poking at the fabric. Not to mention that damn coffee stain. Hopefully the lighting is so bad in here that he won’t be able to tell anyway.

  I risk a peek from under my eyelashes, just in time to see his eyes flick away from my chest; he swallows hard, and I feel a twist of desire between my thighs.

  It doesn’t help that the jacket smells of him. Discreetly, I inhale, filling my nostrils with his glorious scent, that manly, woodsy smell, so much stronger now that I’m cloaked in it.

  He clears his throat. “Better?”

  “Better. Thank you.” We look at each other in silence for a moment, and then I clear my throat.

  “Well, if we’re going to be stuck in here for the foreseeable future, I guess I should know your name at least.” I hold out my hand. “I’m Allie.”

  He stares at my hand for so long that I almost take it back, but then he gives himself a little shake, and envelops it in his. His skin is warm, his palm smooth. I swallow.

  “Nate,” he says, gazing into my eyes. God, he’s gorgeous.

  I force myself to snap out of it. “Nice to meet you, Nate,” I say in what I hope sounds like a firm, confident voice.

  “Likewise,” says Nate, still holding my hand, still piercing me with that steely gaze. When he finally releases me, I’m almost surprised that the print of his fingers isn’t seared into mine.

  I shrug his jacket closer around my shoulders. “How long do you think we’ll be stuck in here?”

  Nate shrugs. “An hour? Two? Depends on how long it takes for them to get the power back up and running.”

  I groan softly, and Nate’s lips quirk in a smile. “Is my company that bad?”

  I blush. “No, no, it’s not you, it’s just…I’m supposed to be somewhere.”

  “Yes, you said. Your meeting.” Nate shrugs. “If it’s any consolation, you’d have been interrupted anyway with the evacuation. I’m sure you’ll be able to reschedule.”

  “Hmm.”

  We’re quiet for a moment, and then Nate gestures to the bench. “If we’re going to be stuck here, I guess we might as well get comfortable.”

  I look down at my wet clothes. “Yeah, I think I’ll stay standing. I don’t want to wreck the material. My clothes are soaking.”

  “You could always take them off.”

  His eyes are boring into me, and I feel suddenly faint.

  “Wha…what?”

  “Your clothes. My jacket is long enough to cover your modesty, and you’d probably be warmer out of them.”

  My face feels like it’s on fire.

  “Uh…I don’t think so.”

  “Oh relax.” Nate rolls his eyes. “It’s not like I’m going to jump on you.”

  My stomach dips and flutters at the thought.

  “I don’t know whether to feel insulted or disappointed,” I say lightly, and Nate smiles wickedly.

  “Not unless you want me to jump on you.”

  Oh God. I make a strangled sound at the back of my throat, and again try to disguise it as a cough. Nate laughs softly. He’s not fooled. He knows exactly the effect he’s having on me; he must be used to having women fall out of their clothes for him looking the way he does.

  I’m suddenly as irritated by his arrogance as I am aroused by it.

  I fold my arms across my breasts, staring resolutely at the elevator doors. Nate may be sex on legs, but if he thinks I’m going to get half naked in an elevator after knowing him for all of two minutes, I’m afraid he’s going to be sorely disappointed.

  Chapter Six

  Nate

  Maybe my comment about Allie taking her clothes off was misjudged. She’s

  been quiet for the last fifteen minutes, pointedly not looking in my direction. It was certainly a case of my mouth running away with my brain; I’d been imagining her naked since I set foot in this elevator.

  God, she’s beautiful. Tall and slim with curves in all the right places, huge green eyes, sensual lips, and full, high breasts. I’m used to being around beautiful women, but there’s something different about this one, and I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is. She isn’t impervious to my charms - despite the poor lighting, I’ve caught her blushes – but I can see that she’s trying to rein herself in. That intrigues me. What also interests me is how unaware she seems of her beauty. That’s unusual in a woman who looks like she does.

  My brow furrows in a frown as I watch her shivering in my jacket. She’s trying to disguise it, but I can hear her teeth chattering from here. I think again of the brief glimpse I’d had of her nipples pushing at the fabric of her blouse when she’d shrugged out of her jacket and into mine, and feel my cock begin to stiffen.

  Not now. I shift position, think about my grocery list until my erection subsides.

  “Allie.” I make my voice as reasonable as possible. She turns her head to look at me, and again, I feel a tide of desire rise in me. There’s a faint pink blush along her high cheekbones, and a single coppery curl has escaped from its pin. I feel a sudden urge to cross the elevator and brush it softly back from her face, but I push the urge down.

  Not the time or the place, I tell myself. And besides that, I cannot risk my job by getting involved with someone who is connected to Hart Enterprises.

  “Yes?” She gathers my jacket more closely around her shoulders as she waits for my response.

  “You’re freezing.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Your lips are blue, and your teeth are chattering. You don’t look fine.”

  Allie gazes at me with those luminous, cat-green eyes, and I feel that stirring in my loins again.

  Maybe getting her out of those wet clothes isn’t such a great idea after all. I don’t think I’d be able to keep my erection in check. On the other hand, I can’t stand to see her shivering, and god knows how long we’ll be stranded here. I want, suddenly, to wrap her in my arms, to make sure she’s warm, and...

  What the hell? I blink in astonishment at my last thought. I am not that guy. I’m the guy with the heavily notched bedpost and the string of beautiful women in his wake; I’m not, nor have I ever been, the romantic or protective type.

  What is wrong with me? I give myself a shake.

  “Just take off your blouse and skirt, for god’s sake,” I almost growl. “If it helps, I’ll face the opposite wall for the entire duration we’re in here. Better that than have your pneumonia on my conscience.”

  “Pneumonia is an infection,” Allie replies tartly. “You can’t catch it from being wet or cold.”

  I feel a surge of irritation, as well as a dark quiver of amusement.

  “Alright: I don’t want your hypothermia on my conscience.”

  Allie glares at me, and my heart thumps. Christ – she’s even more beautiful when she’s angry. He green eyes flash. She looks as if she’s about to snap back, but then something in her seems to soften. She sighs and leans back against the elevator wall.

  “Ok, I’m freezing,” she admits. She darts a look my way, and again tightens my jacket around her shoulders. “You don’t have to look so smug about it.”

  I lift my hands in a gesture of appeasement. “Not smug,” I tell her. “Just concerned.”

  I turn away to face the wall, already yearning to turn back to get another glimpse of her.

  “There. Total privacy. Just take off those clothes so you can sit down and warm up a little.”

  Allie is silent. I can almost hear her mulling over her options. Then she sighs again, and I know I’ve succeeded in convincing her.

  “Fine,” she says loftily. “But I’m warning you: if I catch you peeking, I have pepper spray in my pocket, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

  Chapter Seven

  Allie

  My heart is hammering as I unzip my skirt and let it slip to the floor. I’m both thrilled and mortified at the thought of being semi-naked in this elevator with this man. My shivering has intensified, and I don’t think it’s entire
ly down to the cold.

  I check to make sure Nate isn’t looking before I unbutton my blouse, wrinkling my nose in disgust as I peel out of the wet silk, the material clinging unpleasantly to my skin. I shrug Nate’s jacket back on, trying to ignore the delicious scent permeating the material, and swiftly button it as far as it will go. The arms are way too long, so I roll up the cuffs. There. That will have to do.

  I turn to face the mirror and roll my eyes at my reflection. I look ridiculous, like a little girl playing dress up. Thankfully, Nate’s jacket is long enough that it skims my thighs and just about protects my modesty, although I can’t say the same for my cleavage area, where the thin white lace of my bra is peeking through. I fuss with it, trying to hide it by pulling the jacket tighter, but that exposes more of my thighs, so I give up.

  It’s not like Nate’s going to be looking anyway, I reason, gazing at his broad back. He is standing so perfectly still, I can’t even see his body rising as he breathes; it’s almost as if he isn’t breathing.

  I jump when he speaks, startling me.

  “All done?”

  “Uh-huh.” I bend to scoop up my clothes, my cheeks hot. I look around the elevator, wondering how best to dry them out. I’m reluctant to drape them over the bench in case the dye runs and stains the pristine material, so eventually I settle for laying them out on the floor underneath, where they’re not at risk of being trampled on.

  Nate is still facing the wall like a naughty schoolboy. I settle gratefully down on the bench. My calves and the arches of my feet have been crying out for respite from my towering heels, and I sink against the wall, stretching out my legs, and letting out a sigh of satisfaction.