Chapter 58
“Clarity” - Zedd ft. Foxes
Several Months Later
Maeve
God, I hate waiting, especially for a lift—a situation only made worse by having to wait with Pierce St. James.
I shoot him a sidelong glare as we both face the door.
I’m holding Mrs. Rodriguez’s cinnamon latte and my own coffee, while trying to keep my bag from slipping off my shoulder.
He’s got a bag that smells like it contains croissants.
His other hand is tucked in the pocket of his gray dress pants, and from the smirk he’s proudly sporting, I know he can feel my eyes on him.
I huff out through my nose, determined not to lose the fight this time. “Are you following me?”
He presses a palm to his chest as if he can’t believe I’ve asked something so insulting. “While I would follow your ass all over the globe under normal circumstances, Maeve, on this particular occasion, we both just happen to be headed in the same direction.”
It’s a load of crock, and he knows that I know that.
HavenNet—rebranded as Solace Link—launched nearly a month ago, so while Luminara’s teams have been busy with troubleshooting, the Wilson Foundation has been dealing with PR issues as they pop up. Something we firmly have in hand, and yet here we are.
“I told you I can handle this,” I hiss as we wait for the slowest elevator in the world.
He shifts closer and says in a lowered voice, “You also needed an hour to de-stress last night. Forgive me for wanting to look out for you.”
I know you’re probably thinking something along the lines of “aw, how sweet,” but let me assure you, Pierce is being anything but sweet right now.
He’s close enough that I can smell his cologne—which I’m sure he’s aware of—and he’s wearing those stupid-ass glasses that make me weak at the knees—something I know he’s aware of.
The man doesn’t play fair.
“Go back to your tech toys, Pierce.”
“You are my toy,” he says, in the voice he’s supposed to reserve for the bedroom but never does because he’s absolute bollocks at following our agreements.
My pulse picks up speed, but I ignore it. “I’m seconds away from reporting you to HR.”
“I don’t work here, remember?” he purrs.
“Asshole.” I press the call button again, even though it’s still lit up, then a few more times for good measure.
“Maybe if you smash it, it’ll come.”
I whirl toward him, my finger raised. “You—”
The elevator dings, and the doors swoosh open. Pierce makes a big show of letting me get on first. I pin him with a dirty scowl, because otherwise, I’d be grinning like a fucking idiot. Why does he have to be equal parts infuriating and sexy as hell?
He steps on after me, then hits the button for the fifth floor.
The doors close as the scent of hot coffee, fresh pastries, and Pierce St. James fill the car.
It’s like my kryptonite, and I steel my spine with resistance.
I skipped breakfast, but there’s no way Pierce knows that.
He left before I was even out of bed this morning, kissing me on his way out the door.
Now I know what his plans were.
I glare at the bag of croissants in his hand. “I’m not eating those.”
He glances at it, then sets it on the floor. “Good. They’re not for you.” Before I can say anything in response, he reaches for the emergency break and pulls it.
“What are you doing?”
His movements are swift. After setting my coffee cups beside the pastries, he removes my purse from my shoulder and places it down as well.
Apprehension floods my system as I watch him—my default state, but I’m working on it—but it’s quickly drowned out by anticipation, because this is Pierce we’re talking about, and as much as he might irritate the life out of me, I love him, and I trust him explicitly.
When both of our hands are empty, he gives me a look that screams “predator.” I have time for a single inhale before his mouth is on mine, claiming it as if there was any doubt who it belongs to. He grabs both my wrists and pins them above my head just like he did the last time we did this.
When Pierce kisses me, the rest of the world goes black. I know everyone says things like that, but it’s never been true for me before. The only thing I can focus on is the way his lips pluck at me, the way his tongue pushes into my mouth, the way he’s tasting me and sucking me and licking me.
How can I stay mad at someone who kisses me like I’m something incredible to be savored?
He pulls back, panting. “Do you know how long this particular fantasy has haunted me?”
I gasp for breath, fighting the simultaneous urges to drag him back down and to slap him. “Is your memory slipping already? We’ve done this before.” My voice sounds raspy, likely due to me being without oxygen for what felt like two whole minutes.
“We may have kissed, but we’ve never done this in here before.” He punctuates his words by slipping his hand under my dress, finding me wet and ready for him. His eyes flutter shut. “Fuck, Maeve.”
I moan and let my head fall back against the wall as he begins exploring inside my panties. His fingers slide over my folds, making me see stars over and over.
“Please, Pierce,” I whisper.
He groans in response but doesn’t push them inside, just continues tormenting my clit. I’ve learned by now that he enjoys taking me just past the point of desperation. The secret is not to let him see how it affects me so that he’ll give me more in an effort to garner a response.
I fight to regain my composure, faking boredom as he strokes my nub again and again. If I thought I could, I’d attempt a yawn, but it’s taking all my self-control just to keep from crying out at this point.
I feel his teeth on my neck, a surefire way to make me crumble, but I do my damn best to stay upright.
Seconds later, I feel him smiling against my skin. “You little vixen,” he says with a chuckle. “So you want to play, do you?”
Leaving me no time for a response, he whirls me around until I’m facing the elevator wall. He slaps my hands above my head, and I understand the unspoken order—keep them up. When I’m in a position he approves of, he trails a finger down my bare arm.
I shiver, no longer interested in trying to fool him.
“Oh, are you done manipulating me?” he asks, like the cocky bastard he is. “In that case, I guess the real fun can begin.”
My heart races a thousand miles a minute, and I press my thighs together in anticipation.
He yanks my hips backward, making my palms slide down the wall. “Grab the rail,” he orders.
I wrap my hands around the cold metal bar circling the elevator. It feels like a lifeline, and I’m grateful to have something secure to hold on to.
He walks me back a few more steps, until I’m doing a halfway lift in an elevator, my arms straight out in front of me, the love of my life standing behind me. “Good girl,” he says. “Now let’s see how wet you are for me.”
A whimper slips past my lips as his fingers slip past my other lips. The burning sensation is almost too much to bear, and I buck my hips, seeking more.
“Not yet, baby,” he soothes. “I want you dripping all over this disgusting carpet before I take you.”
I don’t spare a thought for the people who are probably waiting on this elevator or what they’ll think when we finally tumble out of it. The only thing I’m aware of is the way my legs are turning to jelly from Pierce’s hands.
Finally, he decides to bless me with a single finger inside. The thrust is sudden and deep, and he’s in as far as he can go, reaching that spot no other man has even attempted to.
I cry out, not caring if anyone can hear me, not even caring if there are cameras in this damn lift. Let them watch. Let them see what this man does to me.
With one warm hand on my stomach, Pierce uses the other to push several fingers in and out of me. His cock is pressed against my hip, and I can feel just how much he wants me. Another release comes when I imagine him finally burying himself inside me.
The sounds of my arousal fill the car, accompanied every so often by Pierce’s murmured approval.
“Please,” I plead. “I need you, Pierce.”
Groaning, he gives two more thrusts before withdrawing his fingers, then with his hands, he nudges my legs further apart. He tosses my skirt up, leaving my backside exposed to him. “God, I envisioned doing this the minute I saw you this morning. This fucking dress.”
He’s referring to my black A-line flared minidress, and it might be the only thing I’ll wear from now on. Cool air hits my bottom, but only for a second, as Pierce smacks it away, making me cry out in shock.
He tugs my thong to the side, revealing my seam, which causes a guttural groan to come from his chest. Using his throbbing cock, he traces it, and it takes every ounce of self-control I possess to not press back against him.
Spreading me even further apart, until it feels like I’ll split, he nudges his tip inside. “Fuck, baby. You’re so slick and hot and wet. I’m going to go so fucking deep.”
I tremble, knowing he means every word. “Please, Pierce. Please.”
That proves to be his undoing. With one swift movement, he thrusts inside and, true to his word, buries himself as far in as is humanly possible.
A cry rips from my throat as he fills me to the brim, then pulls back just enough to drive back inside, hard and fast. I grip the handrail and push back to take him again and again.
He moves his hand from my hip to my clit, exerting just enough pressure to make me detonate.
As pleasure floods my body, my knees threaten to buckle, but Pierce holds me upright.
Seconds later, he follows with his own climax, his body shuddering against mine as he releases.
We collapse, spent—me against the wall, him against me. After we’ve both caught our breath and adjusted our clothes, we pick up our things, and Pierce pushes the button to resume the elevator.
Something occurs to me as the lift groans back to life. “Do you think that’s why it was so late earlier?” The thought of someone else doing what we just did in here makes me want to vomit.
“An interesting thought,” he says. “Who knows?”
The bell dings, and the doors swish open, revealing Mrs. Rodriguez’s cheerful smile. I cast a sidelong look at Pierce before racing out of the lift, determined to reach her with the coffee before he can offer up his croissants.