“What if they’d heard you?”

“They didn’t.”

“They could have.”

He genuinely looked like the thought had never occurred to him, and it probably hadn’t. It was easy for him to play games from his perch at the top. He was the workaholic executive. I was the girl halfway up the ladder.

The person on our left glanced over and we both stood straight, looked forward. I elbowed him sharply in the side, and he pinched my ass hard enough to make me gasp.

“I won’t apologize,” he said under his breath.

Of course you won’t. Dick.

He pressed into me again, and I felt the length of him grow even harder, the traitor warmth spreading between my legs.

We reached the fifteenth floor and a few more people filed out. I reached behind me, slid my hand between us, and palmed him. He exhaled a warm puff against my neck, whispering, “Fuck yes.”

And then I squeezed.

“Fuck. Sorry!” he hissed into my ear. I let go, dropping my hand and grinning to myself. “Christ, I was just playing around with you.”

The sixteenth floor. The rest of the crowd exited in a single rush, apparently headed to the same meeting.

As soon as the doors closed and the elevator began to move, I heard a growl from behind me and caught a quick, sudden movement as Mr. Ryan slammed his hand against the stop button on the control panel. His eyes turned on me and they were darker than I had ever seen them. In one fluid motion, he pinned me against the wall of the elevator with his body. He pulled away just long enough to give me an angry glare and mutter, “Don’t move.”

And even though I wanted to tell him to fuck off, my body begged me to do whatever he said.

Reaching over to my discarded files, he plucked a sticky note off the top and placed it over the camera lens set into the ceiling.

His face was only a couple of inches from mine, his breath coming out in sharp bursts against my cheek. “I would never imply you’re trying to fuck your way to the top.” He exhaled, bending into my neck. “You’re thinking too much.”

I pulled back as much as I could, gaping at him. “You’re not thinking enough. This is my career we’re talking about. You have all of the power here. You have nothing to lose.”

“I have the power? You’re the one who pressed into my dick in the elevator. You’re the one doing this to me.”

I felt my expression soften; I wasn’t used to seeing him be vulnerable with me, even a little. “Then don’t blindside me.”

After a long pause, he nodded.

The sound of the building all around us filled the elevator as we continued to stare at each other. The ache for contact began to build, first in my navel and spreading lower, between my legs.

He bent forward, licking my jaw before covering my lips with his, and an involuntary groan rumbled in my throat as his hardened cock pressed against my stomach. My body began acting on instinct and my leg wrapped around his, pressing me closer against his arousal, my hands finding their way to his hair. He pulled back just long enough for his fingers to flick at the clasp at my waist. My dress drifted apart in front of him.

“Such an angry kitty,” he whispered. Placing his hands on my shoulders, he looked into my eyes and slid the fabric to the floor. Goose bumps spread along my skin as he took my hands, turned me around, and pressed my palms against the wall.

Reaching up, he removed the silver comb from my hair, letting it fall down my naked back. Taking my hair in his hands, he roughly pulled my head to the side, giving him access to my neck. Hot, wet kisses rained down my spine and across my shoulders. His touch left a spark of electricity over every inch of skin he touched. On his knees behind me, he grabbed my ass and pressed his teeth into the flesh, eliciting a sharp gasp from me before he stood back up.

Holy hell, how does he know to do these things to me?

“Did you like that?” His fingers pressed and pulled at my breasts. “Being bitten on the ass?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re such a filthy fucking girl.”

I yelped out in surprise as I felt his hand smack hard where his teeth had just been, and my only response was a moan of pleasure. I breathed in another sharp gasp as his hands clasped the delicate ribbons of my underwear and ripped it off.

“Expect another bill, asshole.”

He chuckled darkly and pressed up against me again, the cool wall against my breasts sending shivers through my body and pulling forward the memory of the window that first time. I’d forgotten how good the contrast—cold versus warm, hard versus him—felt against me. “Worth every penny.” His hand slid around my waist and down my abdomen, slipping lower until his finger rested on my clit. “You know, I think you wear those things just to tease me.”

Was he right? Was I delusional, thinking they were for me?

The pressure from his touch caused me to ache, his fingers pressing and releasing, leaving me wanting. Moving lower, he stopped right at my entrance. “You’re so wet. God, you must have been thinking about this all morning.”

“Fuck you,” I groaned, gasping as his finger finally pushed inside, pressing me back into him.

“Say it. Say it and I’ll give you what you want.” A second finger joined the first, and the sensation caused me to cry out.

I shook my head, but my body betrayed me again. He sounded so needy; his words were teasing and controlling, but it felt like he was begging too. I closed my eyes, trying to clear my thoughts, but everything was just too much. The feel of his clothed body against my naked skin, the sound of his rough voice, and the feeling of his long fingers plunging in and out of me had me teetering on the edge. His other hand reached up, firmly pinching my nipple through the sheer fabric of my bra, and I moaned loudly. I was so close.

“Say it,” he grunted into my ear as his thumb rolled over my clit. “I won’t have you angry with me all day.”

I gave in, finally, whispering, “I want you inside me.” He let out a low, strangled moan and his forehead rested on my shoulder as he began moving faster, plunging and circling. His hips ground against my ass, his erection rubbing against me. “Oh, God,” I moaned, the coil tightening deep inside, my every thought focused on the pleasure begging to break free.

And then the rhythmic sounds of our panting and groans were suddenly interrupted by the shrill ringing of a phone.

We stilled as the realization of where we were crashed down on us. Mr. Ryan cursed as he moved away from me and took the elevator’s emergency receiver.

Turning, I grabbed my dress, slipped it over my shoulders, and began fastening it with shaking hands.

“Yes.” He sounded so calm, not even a little out of breath. Our eyes locked across the elevator. “I see . . . No, we’re fine . . .” He bent over slowly, removing my torn and discarded panties from the elevator floor. “No, it just stopped.” He listened to the person on the other end, while rubbing the silky fabric between his fingers. “That’s fine.” He finished, hanging up the phone.

The elevator jerked as it began ascending again. He looked down at the lace in his hand and then back to me. And then he smirked, stepping away from the wall and stalking toward me. Placing one hand next to my head, he leaned in, running his nose along my neck and whispering, “You smell as good as you feel.”

A small gasp escaped me.

“And these,” he said, motioning to my panties in his hand, “are mine.”

The elevator chimed as we stopped at our floor. The doors opened and without a single glance back in my direction, he slipped the delicate fabric into the pocket of his suit jacket and strode out.

Four

Panic. The emotion gripping me as I all but sprinted to my office could only be described as pure panic. I couldn’t believe what was happening. Being alone with her in that tiny steel prison—her smell, her sounds, her skin—made my self-control evaporate. I was unraveling. This woman had a hold on me unlike anything I’d ever experienced.