by Ally Crew
And based on how pink the peach of her cheeks have turned, I’m willing to hedge my bets that the image has crossed her mind too.
I wait for the doors to open and stretch my hand out to hold them in a gentlemanly gesture. The tension in the air between us thickening like a storm.
She rolls her eyes and crosses my path, her arm brushing my chest and heating my gut.
My eyes run a long unabashed path up her legs as I follow her in, before my thumb reaches for the first floor button. Her long, delicate fingers that’d been making their way towards the metallic panel stall midair and she fists them. I imagine her tightening that fist around the base of my cock as she takes the remaining length deep into her mouth.
Her brown eyes hover over the lit up '1' briefly, and then her hands drop to her sides. Realizing we’re headed the same place, she plasters her back on the wall, and glues all of her attention to the chrome doors ahead, trying hard to ignore the risky proximity of our bodies.
Floor 3.
Floor 2.
The car jolts and then comes to an abrupt stop.
As we stand beside each other, the seconds stretch on with a very telling silence. The heat in the air scorches the skin beneath my collar. Any longer and I'd get skin-burn from raw desire.
I stick my hand out to grab the emergency phone as I connect with her wide and panicked eyes. “Let me look into this.”
The buzzer rings for a couple of seconds before the security guard picks up the receiver, two floors below in the basement.
“Hello. This is Cash Drexel. We’re stuck in the elevator.” I pitch her a glimpse, aware she’s studying me with a guarded look.
“It’ll be about twenty-minutes to reset the system, sir.” The security guard advises me in a cheerless and cautious tone.
“Oh, I see,” I nod, as if he's giving me a long list of “what to do in an emergency” instructions. “No, that’s not good.” I make up a conversation, hoping the man will catch on, “Two hours? Damn…that long? And the cameras are out too? Well, we’re okay. You just take the time you need to keep us safe.”
As I lean forward to replace the handset, I hurl a stealthy wink at the overhead security camera.
A stifled chuckle echoes from the other end. “Got it, sir.”
I turn to face her, crossing my arms over my chest. Yeah, that was a bit of a bastard move from my end, but I’m not sorry. I’ve not gotten to where I’m, without going after what I want—
be it, a spicy deal, or a spicy girl.
And I definitely want her.
“It’s gonna be a while. We should get to know each other.”
She furrows her brow cynically. “I know enough about you. I just want to go home.”
Oh, honey, you’re home. You just don’t know it yet.
3
Stella
Two hours. TWO hours. TWO HOURS!
Those two words wreak havoc in my head and my chest. Two hours in a box with no windows? To someone with claustrophobia that’s a bad as being blindfolded, gagged, ear-muffed and then thrown into a body bag and zipped up. What’s worse—those two hours are going to be with him.
Him.
I’d rather the elevator mechanism gives way, and the car plummets to the ground, like what often happens in those action movies.
Ok stop with the fear-mongering Stella. You’ll live. Inhale. Exhale. You know the routine.
My lungs draw a long breath in and push the exhale with pursed lips through my mouth. I repeat the exercise three times, feeling a little less fragile, a little more centered.
“Are you ok?” I think I hear a hint of concern in Cash’s voice, but I could be wrong.
“I’ll live,” I mumble. But if I live, it means being trapped with him. And he’s just as dangerous too. Two hours. Will I last that long? I’d hardly lasted two minutes in his office, before I walked out, semi-annoyed and semi-aroused.
I’d like to go down too. A flash of images clutter my mind. Images of being used for pleasure by an assertive man, who knows what he needs from me. And of receiving pleasure from an assured man, who knows what he’s doing to me. A shiver makes its way up my fingertips to my shoulders. As someone with no sexual experience whatsoever, I imagine the experience would be…unforgettable.
Much like the time I’d been buckled up, in the front car of a gigantic rollercoaster—
frightened about the drop, yet thrilled to ride the wave. A quiet moan escapes my throat as I rub my arms.
36-24-36… am I right? He couldn’t have made his intent clearer then, his caramel eyes caressing my skin, making me aware of every curve every sensitive-spot beneath the satin lining of my dress. And my pride’s not even thought to complain about the invasion of privacy yet, which should probably concern me the most. I would normally have some witty comeback or snappy retort, but he’s got me practically mute. Wow, so much for powerful and strong.
“You’re cold.” His gaze traverses over my bare prickled-up skin. “Here you go…” He drops his shoulders back, slipping his coat down his arms.
I get a sneak peek of his fit body. One that I surmise he can’t accomplish without devoting at least most days of the week to a few machines at the gym.
“No, thank you.” I decline the offer—though I must admit, I hadn’t taken him to be the chivalrous sort, offering the coat off his back to keep strangers warm.
“Okay.” He shrugs, adjusting it back on. “Since we’re stuck here—let’s talk.”
“There’s only one subject I’d like to talk about.” I look him in the eye, and that takes using up a good bit of my guts. “Are you going to change your mind about your plans to take over the town? To ruin my family?”
“No.” He doesn’t flinch. “Not at all.”
That’s it. I instantly rescind my opinions about his chivalry from a second ago.
“Then, I have nothing to say to you.” I look ahead, fuming. I guess I wasn’t expecting such an unflinching and resounding “no” to my question, but I am an optimist, so why shouldn’t I believe there’s good in him. “You’re going to ruin the town, the community spirit, the traditions—all of it. When people settle here, they do it because they value honesty, and traditional values.” I shoot him a hard glare. “Do you know why the lot of us are extra cautious about not offering Mrs. Rogers a kiwi from a fruit bowl?”
“No.” He shakes his head in a flippant fashion. “Should I know?”
“Because no one wants to poison an 89-year old woman!” There. I’d said what I had to—
end of rant.
An amused grin edges onto his mouth that steadily turns into a wry laugh. “Don’t know about kiwis, but—” Cutting off the laugh, he leans closer for a second. “I wouldn’t mind the offer of your warm apple pie. I hear from my secretary that it’s…” He places a hand above my head, blocking me in. “It’s quite delicious.”
“A warm app—” My lips part from shock. Is he suggesting what I think he’s suggesting? I watch the devil dance between his eyes. “You’re arrogant and revolting.”
“And you like it.”
“I do not,” I hiss with exasperation while my pussy quakes like she’s nodding in agreement to him. Traitor.
His cavalier huff tells me he does not believe my rebuttal in the slightest.
And sadly, that arrogant reaction instinctively gets the apex of my thighs pulsing, only proving him right. The titillating sensations push a revealing mewl out of the base of my throat that I have to bite down to stifle.
Much as I hate what he’s doing to our café, much as I hate his smugness, my body aches for him and it only creates a fervor of a different kind inside of me. Panic sets in and my chest rises and falls quickly.
“I… I…” I rub my quivering palms, feeling flustered and completely overwhelmed. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
His sure voice booms in the small six by six elevator box. “Ok… that’s it. You’re far too cold.”
Removing his jacket by the lapel, he wra
ps it around my shoulders. However, his hands refuse to come off me, lurking poised over my shoulders, slipping down to my arms. With my throat drier than a cotton ball, I can’t protest, even if I wanted to.
Studying my responses through the lens of a skilled seducer, he grazes his fingers along the exposed skin of my arms. My breaths quicken despite all of my attempts to stop the phenomenon. And that cue is all he needs to nudge his game up a notch, by gingerly brushing his thumb over the round sides of my breasts.
It instantly churns a warm wetness in my pussy that I can feel pooling in the silk of my panties. I try to stop the flushing heat of a near-orgasm showing through my fair skin, but it’s like fighting a losing battle.
The enemy is upon me…
4
Cash
Damn, keeping my hands off her is turning out to be a bigger test of strength than I like to admit. Especially since I’m dealing with the sweet-torture of a constant erection around her. So, when I get to feel her velvet skin, and the outline of her breasts, the racy thoughts are like nothing my mind’s eye has experienced before.
That said, I’m beginning to measure the depth of my feelings, and I’m getting the notion that the rivers run deeper than simple lust.
It could be the fact that she’s many years younger.
It could be that she’s inexperienced with the ways of life.
But, with every passing second, I’m facing a growing need to care for her, a possessive need to make her mine—and mine alone. In fact, the very thought that she’d walk out of the elevator, and eventually into someone else’s arms, makes my chest tighten uncomfortably.
And I’m not gonna let that happen. Not if I can help it.
I’ve dropped my hands from touching her, when her chest begins heaving, like she’s in agony. My gut churns with worry and I read her face, wondering what might have set the palpitations off.
You’ve set the woman into an autonomic reaction, you ass. Her fight-or-flight response is triggered and she’s a mass of quivering woman, but not in the way I want her to be.
I settle my palms on her cheeks, cupping her jawline with my pinkies. “Stella… are you claustrophobic?”
She nods through raspy gasps.
“Alright…you need to concentrate. Inhale as slow as you can…” I count down the exhale slowly to a count of ten and she complies, but her knees buckle. I catch her arms just as she’s about to sink to the cold marble floor. I help her sit and take my place beside her. Wrapping my arm around her, I continue reminding her about the exercises to combat the phobia, “Inhale slowly… exhale slowly.”
I realize her hair smells like the heady fragrance of an expensive bouquet. As I glance down at her, a soft smile plays on my lips. She looks so tender, so vulnerable within my arms, like an angel in a steel cage. I take a liking to the intimacy, especially to the feel of her features so close to mine. I presume she must too, for she digs her face deeper into my chest, settling down snugly.
Eventually, her hyperventilation eases off into steady breaths.
Stella remains in my cocoon for a few seconds longer, enjoying the security of my strong arms.
She clears her throat. “Cash, this changes nothing.”
But she hasn’t moved, and she’s still firmly planted to my chest, and she’s not making effort to recoil from my arms. The signs are here.
Baby, this changes everything.
5
Stella
Not only am I trapped in the elevator, I’ve now let myself be trapped in his arms, too. Strangely, I’m not scared of either, and that somehow frightens me in new ways.
Pulling away from his embrace, I scoot across the floor to reclaim a fresh spot for myself.
My heart had already been pounding from being cornered in this box. The steamy moment had the beating muscle on overdrive, triggering a panic attack. Now that the attack has abated, I steady my thoughts as pins and needles tingle my limbs after pooling blood in my chest to protect my organs rushes back through my body.
The scent of his rich cologne still lingers on my clothes, and it’s oddly erotic. I envision how it’d feel to have the musky scent of that cologne linger on my legs and in between my thighs.
Get a grip, woman!
I bite the inside of my cheek and turn to my purse. I need a new venue for diversion, or I’m going to regret this.
I pluck out my phone, and begin scrolling through my messages, trying not to be unnerved by the man seated a few inches away from me. I notice I’ve received a message from my friend, who’s also an employee at the café –
Hartley: So, wassup? How did the meeting go?
Meeting? There was no meeting.
Using my fingers to hide the screen from him, I type in my response.
Stella: Meeting took a turn, but that’s a whole another story. I’ll tell you later. But guess what? I’m stuck in the elevator with Cash Drexel.
I’m not sure how the reception within the elevator is, but I press send anyway.
A minute later, I see the dots indicating she’s at least considering a retort. It doesn’t take long for the subsequent text to show up.
Hartley: OMG! Are you kidding? He’s so hot! Woman, use your ways and get him to obey.
It’s more likely the other way around. I squirm in my place slightly when I read her gushing. So, she’s seen him before?
Hot? I shake my head trying to convince myself that he’s nothing at all. Not so easy when I’m sitting here with my clit throbbing painfully through most of our encounter—an encounter, in which we’ve barely touched.
But, to actually admit he’s hot is whole another level, and I’m not about to take that step lightly. My thumb moves over the keypad hesitantly, before I type the words.
Stella: Unfortunately… yes, he is.
And the heat is getting to my head.
6
Cash
From the corner of my eye, I see the words. Not the whole message. But enough to know what Stella thinks of me. She’s impressed with the outside. I won’t sugar coat it—I keep fit. Little did I know it would all be for the young sprite with honey-colored hair. I’ll have to get her to see that I’m not that big of a bastard on the inside and maybe she might be impressed with that side of me, too. And I’m aware of precisely how that can be done.
“So…” My fingers drum on my knees. “There’s a park in town… I notice it’s got ‘Stone’ in the name. Is that…?”
A tinge of curiosity colors her expression. “The park?” She blinks, and almost instantly a fresh sparkle crystallizes in her pupils. “The park’s named after my family. My… great-great-great grandfather,” she pauses, counting on her fingertips to make sure she’s got the ancestry-count right. “Yes, he was one of the founding fathers of this town. When the park was built, they decided to name it after him, as a tribute to his work.”
Her shoulders fall, and her head rolls back gently, while her mind escapes to some blissful oblivion. Her effervescent voice summons all my attention. “The number of families that’ve made use of it reminds us how our family is part of a larger family. My brother and I have plenty of tales to tell about our times there—family picnics, softball matches, the one time I got lost…”
I sit and watch how she gets lost in her thoughts. I rarely take time like this out of my day to just be in my life. It’s always go…go…go and plan…plan…plan and run…run..run. And never time to just…be. But I could take time to be with her. I would make time to be with her. She would be everything to me.
Stella continues pulling out experiences from her magical hat of memories. And I’m reminded of those cherubic statues posing by fountain heads with their chins in their palms adrift in fantasyland.
“Interesting.” By the time I speak up again, her voice has faded into a delicate whisper. “What do you think about the families of the town continuing to make memories there?”
“I think that is exactly what we’d want.”
“Which means,” I flick
both my palms out like I often do while presenting my case to a business associate in a board meeting, “It needs a new playground installed—am I right?”
“Wait.” My suggestion snaps Stella out of whatever trance she’s been in. She shifts around facing me with an icy stare. “So, my guesses were correct. You are trying to buy me off.”
“No, I want to be a part of this community. That’s all.” Alas, that answer isn’t enough to thaw her frozen stare. “Fine…” I laugh softly and whip out my phone from the pocket. Unlocking the screen, I login into the email browser and pull up an email from one of the folders. I hold the screen for her to see. “Recognize that name?”
She peers closer, and her long lashes fly wide open. “My brother?”
“Yes, the mayor…”
“Wait…” a startled pause interrupts her sentence “So you know… my family… and me…”
“That you’re the precious daughter of the Stone family? Of course, I do.” Not surprisingly, my candid admission fans a few flickers of ire on her features. “What sort of businessman would I be if I didn’t do my research before investing in a town?”
And now my investment might be in something more.
Us.
7
Stella
A playground redevelopment project? My heart lurches up to my throat, but I swiftly push the flooding excitement back down. I’m not going to let myself get carried away until I can actually see proof of him sponsoring this redevelopment he’s boasting about.
With his nod, I take Cash’s phone for a closer look of the contents of the email. A few sentences in, I begin coming across evidence that backs up his claims. There are several correspondences between him and my brother, the newly elected mayor of the town. They comprise several protocols entailed in setting up a new playground system for the park, including names of suppliers, safety check protocols, and all other relevant council permits.