Chapter 5
HOLLY
The warm body beside me moves, and I wake to a ringing phone.
A panelled ceiling and dim lighting remind me instantly where I am.
I hear Danny’s low voice as he picks up the phone.
I listen to the one-sided conversation, because it’s preferable to thinking about what I’ve done with him and wondering how on earth I’m ever going to go back to my old life after such a… climactic day.
‘She thinks they’ll be another hour,’ he says as he hangs up the phone.
His face looms from on high as he looks down, a smile warming his sexy face.
My gaze drifts up his legs – they’re very long from this vantage point.
He’s tucked himself away at some stage but the button above his zipper has been left temptingly open.
‘Hey, sleepy head.’ My heart does a funny little jiggle at his smile and the very familiar way his gaze runs over my body.
An hour. One more hour of being Elevator Holly. It stretches in front of me with possibilities but perversely doesn’t seem long enough.
‘Are you hungry?’
I’m pretty sure he’s actually talking about food this time.
So the answer would be no. Not hungry. For food, anyway.
I’m hungry for more of him. For more of us.
Even the thought of him and me being an us is preposterous.
I don’t have time for an us. Being an us with anyone is not part of my short-term plan.
But I’m lying here naked in front of him – in front of Danny the building manager – and nothing else matters but touching him. Him touching me.
I’m scarily obsessed.
‘A little, sure.’ I lie because the last thing he wants is to hear that crazy kind of talk from me. He’s made the best of a crappy situation here, of which I am the grateful recipient. The last thing he needs is for accommodating elevator chick going all bunny boiler on him.
‘But I can wait an hour.’
‘Not me.’ He grins. ‘I’ve worked up a real appetite. And I wouldn’t be surprised if Bob has a little something in his bag.’
He shuffles off to the bag, which was discarded in the corner when the elevator first shuddered to a halt.
In all the… activity, I’d forgotten about its existence.
I watch as he sits his ass down next to it and hauls it into his lap.
The muscles in his arms move nicely under the caramel tone of his skin.
He really is a pleasure to watch.
‘It’s like the fucking Tardis in here.’ His head is practically in the bag as he hunts around, the shaggy fall of his hair obscuring his face from me.
It doesn’t matter. Those cheekbones and the deep groves of his dimples are burned into my retinas.
I’ll never forget his face, not as long as I live.
‘There’s everything in here, bar the kitchen sink,’ he mutters as he starts to pull things out. ‘There has to be food.’
I’ll never forget making him come, either. His cock – the way he casually uses that term melts me on the inside – is beautiful. It’s hard to be impressed by genitals when I see so many of them in my day-to-day job – in all their variations.
The good, the bad, and the downright ugly.
I’ve become desensitised to them. For me, they’re functional. Anatomical. And, frankly, unattractive. But Danny’s… I shiver thinking about it.
It’s beautiful.
Long and thick in my hand, the petal-soft skin stretched tight over a shaft of forged steel, the veins a work of art. It had taken all my willpower not to wrap my lips around it.
My mouth waters and my nipples tighten just thinking about how he might taste. About whether I could take him all the way to the back of my throat. About what technique he prefers when a woman goes down on him.
My gut burns at the thought that there will be more women after today. After me. I hate all of them and suddenly want to keep him trapped in here with me.
Bunny boiler alert!
‘Doc.’ His voice is a low rumble and my pulse spikes. ‘Stop looking at me like that.’
His hot gaze sweeps over me like the beam of a flashlight.
It treks back to linger on my aroused nipples.
The sudden tension in his frame, like he might pounce on me any second, stirs my belly, and it quivers at the flare of heat in his eyes.
My breath is thick in my throat, and I don’t know enough about guys like Danny to play games, but Elevator Holly is keen to push some boundaries.
Or jealous enough to, anyway.
‘Like what?’ I ask breathily.
‘Like you’re trying to figure out how I like my cock sucked.’
His words slice straight to the slickness between my legs, and heat floods my face. The man may not have X-ray vision, but he can obviously read minds. He grins, knowing he’s hit the nail on the head.
‘It’s very distracting,’ he says as he returns to his search while my heart rate rattles away. ‘And I need some sustenance before we go again.’
Muscles deep inside clench at the thought there’s more to come, and a host of possibilities flood my mind, but suddenly he pulls something from the bag with an ‘Aha!’
‘What is it?’
‘It’s a Hershey’s bar. It looks older than God, but who ever heard of chocolate going bad, right?’
I laugh as he rips the packet open and snaps the bar in two. He’s obviously never been in an ER. ‘For you,’ he offers.
The thought of old chocolate doesn’t appeal. Not when I have three packets of brand-new Hershey’s almond Kisses in the apartment; and besides, I’d rather watch him eat. ‘I couldn’t possibly deprive you of the sustenance.’
He grins. ‘We still have an hour. You’re going to need it as much as me.’ My clitoris pulses at the promise in his voice, but I shake my head as he waggles it at me. He shrugs and eats the half he offered me in three bites.
He takes his time with the second half. His head rests back against the wall as he slowly savours each square, his gaze savouring my body at the same time.
It drifts up and down me and lingers in all the good places.
It throbs between my thighs, and my nipples tingle and harden beneath his rapt attention.
Suddenly self-conscious, I look around for my shirt. It’s near his thigh. I could probably just reach over and pluck it up, but my bones are dissolving. ‘Throw me my shirt.’
‘Nope.’ He shakes his head, a small smile playing on his mouth. ‘I like looking at you naked.’
My breath hitches at his frankness, but I am acutely aware of my nudity now, and I draw the leg closest to him into a bend in an attempt to lessen my exposure. The slick, swollen flesh between my legs quivers deliciously at the action.
‘Don’t.’ His voice is soft but steely, and my thigh trembles. ‘I like looking at your pussy best of all.’
My thigh trembles some more at his choice of words and how he says that word in particular. It shouldn’t turn me on, but it does, and I blush. God… part of me wants to pull the duvet over me. Part of me wants to spread my legs so he can look his fill.
Who even am I?
The thought makes me jittery, and confusion makes me disagreeable. ‘You think I should just lay here buck naked and let you inspect me while you’re in a pair of jeans?’
He grins in such a knowing way. ‘Uh huh.’ And he slips the last square of chocolate into his mouth.
I hate that he’s right, but in a few short hours he’s made a total wanton of me. My leg, also going the full wanton, slowly slides to the ground again, and his gaze immediately homes in on my… pussy.
His nostrils flare as he lifts his head from the wall to look closer. ‘Pretty,’ he murmurs.
My breathing is so rough it feels like sand in the back of my throat. ‘The least you can do is even up the playing field.’
His gaze returns to my face as he shakes his head. ‘No way, Doc. I want to be inside you too fucking much to take my jeans off without a condom in sight.’
I am both crushingly disappointed and incredibly empowered by his admission of barely restrained desire. The thought undulates through my belly, and I arch a little and squirm to relieve the sudden contraction. A low kind of whimper slips from my lips, and he sucks in a breath.
‘You want it too, don’t you?’
I want him inside me more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I nod my head, surprisingly not embarrassed to admit my need is as desperate as his.
‘You want me to fuck you?’
I exhale a shaky breath. ‘Yes.’
‘You want to feel my cock sliding into you?’ His voice is as husky as mine.
God, yes. I want him filling me up. ‘Yes.’ I press my thighs together as his words stroke like fingers against my clitoris.
‘Fuck.’ Danny groans as his head thunks back against the wall.
He regards me with half-closed lids, as if he’s trying to figure out how he can make it work.
He glances down into Bob’s tool bag. ‘There’s not a condom in there.
Trust me, I looked. Although there are plenty of dick substitutes.
Who needs sex shops when you have a tool bag? ’
My breath catches at the thought of Danny pulling out some kind of phallic tool and using it on me. My eyes widen at such a shocking thought, and I press my thighs together harder as I scrub it from my mind.
But Danny has already heard that catch. How could he not?
It’s silent in the elevator, apart from the odd creak and our heavy breathing.
His gaze zeroes in on mine like a heatseeking missile, suddenly intense.
Did it get stuffier in here all of a sudden, or has my breathing become so syrupy it’s clogging my airways?
He raises his eyebrow slightly. ‘Ahhh…’
He drops his gaze to the pile of items he pulled from Bob’s bag earlier. His fingers search through it and I follow the action. ‘There is this.’
My heart trips in my chest as Danny holds up a screwdriver, still in its packaging. It has a large, black, bulbous handle, decorated with long grooves – for better grip, I suppose. It’s not as big or thick as what Danny’s packing in those jeans, but it’s a close second.