Excerpt from Short-Term Shag
excerpt from short-term shag
Levi
Fuck me, she’s hot. I’ve seen her in the building a handful of times over the last week. Tatted, ridiculously lush and curvy and dressed like a vintage pin-up girl. Her raven-black hair looks silky and impossibly soft, and I desperately want to sink my fingers into it. About the same time I sink my dick inside of her.
We’ve ridden this elevator together multiple times over the last couple of days, but I haven’t yet thought of a way to introduce myself.
It seems highly unlikely she’s single. She’s too damn beautiful for that. No, she definitely has a boyfriend. Maybe a girlfriend. I blow out a breath and try not to stare at her through the slightly distorted reflection in the elevator doors. But damn it’s hard to look away. She isn’t a small woman, and there’s nothing unassuming about her. She’s bold with her brightly colored tattoos and her fire-engine red lips. Her deliciously voluptuous body is only highlighted in the clothes she wears. Nothing too revealing that I’d noticed thus far, but everything molded to her plump curves as if tailor-made.
Today she’s wearing tight black pants with gold buckles across the shin-length hemlines. It’s the shirt accentuating her amazing breasts that keeps drawing my attention though. It’s black with a tie that goes around her neck. The plunging neckline gives me a fantastic view of her cleavage and the fabric is dotted with little red cherries. One green stem curls around her right nipple.
My cock stirs against my thigh and I slide my eyes closed to get myself under control. She makes me feel like a pubescent teen; she’s a wet dream come to life.
We’re going up, and I’m ready to get to my condo. It’s been a hellacious week at school and I have a stack of papers to grade. I’m not looking forward to that. Grading is, hands down, the worst part of being a professor. Taking on a summer term class makes it even worse. But this is the weekend to do it. We have a possible hurricane heading our way and I intend to use the bad weather to stay in and get the work done.
A loud popping noise sounds around us, then the lights go out and the elevator slams to a halt.
“Fuck!” she says. Her voice, smooth—yet rich—like expensive scotch.
A hand grabs onto my arm and nails dig into my skin through my tweed jacket.
“I’m sorry. Just not a fan of the dark,” she says.
“Not a problem,” I tell her.
“Whoa, are you from England?”
“Yes.” I do have that going for me. American women love my accent. It’s gotten me laid on more than one occasion. I reach into my pocket and pull out my mobile to flick on the flashlight feature. She stares back at me, all wide-eyed and gorgeous. I move over to the emergency phone and pull it out. It immediately starts ringing. My companion remains attached to my arm. But I’m not about to complain about that.
“Power’s out all over the city,” the woman’s voice on the other end of the line informs me.
“Any idea how long it’ll be until they can get us out of this elevator?”
“How many are there with you?”
“Just two of us.”
“Do either of you have a medical emergency?” the nasally woman asks.
“Uh, I don’t believe so.” I glance up at the pretty woman standing next to me and raise my brow in question. She shakes her head. “No, we’re both all right.”
“Very well. We’ll send someone out as soon as possible, but medical emergencies are our priority right now.”
“What should we do?” I ask her.
She releases a crusty cackle that says she likely smokes several packs a day and has for years. “I suggest y’all get comfortable.”
“Right. Thank you.” I hang up the phone and eye the woman I’m trapped with. “I’m assuming you heard all of that.”
She nods, then slides down the wall to sit on the floor, stretching her black-clad legs out in front of her. She digs around in her giant purse and pulls out her mobile. It’s an older model, but she pokes on the screen and then holds it up to her ear.
I can’t hear the person on the other end except to know that it’s a man’s voice. No surprise there. She’s far too hot to be single.
“I’m stuck in the fucking elevator at Stu’s building.” She nods while the man speaks.
I slide down the wall myself and take a seat. At least I stopped at the store on my way home and grabbed a bottle of wine and cheese and crackers for dinner.
“Won’t they turn on a generator or something?” She pauses. “I know that, dumbass, but we’re here in this elevator and it’s dark.”
Her voice shudders a little and I understand. I don’t mind the dark so much, but being confined into a small place with no way out bothers me a whole hell of a lot.
“No, I’m not alone,” she puts her hand over her phone and glances at me. “What’s your name?”
“Professor Levi Carlisle. I live in 6a,” I tell her. Her boyfriend is smart, asking about me to make sure she’s safe. She repeats my information, then says goodbye and hangs up. Why the hell did I give her my title? She doesn’t need to know I’m a professor.
A loud humming starts and then the emergency lights flicker on. We’re surrounded by a subtle glow, but at least we aren’t in complete darkness anymore.
“Thank fuck. That’s much better.” She gives me a saucy smile. “That was my brother on the phone. He’s an EMT so I figured he’d probably know what was going on.”
Brother? Not her boyfriend? That’s interesting. “And did he?”
She gives me a small smile—those red lips of hers are mesmerizing. I can think of all kinds of places on my body I’d like to see imprints from her lipstick. My cock stirs and I shift my position. The last thing she needs is to think she’s trapped in here with some sort of pervert.
“More or less he did. Basically, the storm has sped up and strengthened. It hit faster than anyone predicted, and it’s blown out the power for most of the city.”
“So we’ll likely be stuck here for a while then?”
“Yep.”
“At least we’re not in the dark anymore.” I give her a smile intended to comfort her. “Are you 6b’s girlfriend?”
She turns to face me and one perfectly sculpted black brow arches. “Nope.”
She’s playing coy and it’s so alluring. “I told you my name, might you tell me yours as well?”
Her eyes are light in color, though I can’t determine if they are green or blue. They’re pretty though. She’s pretty.
She holds her hand out to me. “Jillian O’Malley, but everyone calls me Jilly. Nice to meet you, Levi.”
I take her hand in mine, i’s warm and soft, but her grip’s solid. “A pleasure to meet you, Jillian.”
“Let me know if you get hungry,” she pats the bag at her side. “I work part-time in a bakery downtown and I always bring home plenty of leftovers.”
“Will do.” A bakery. That must be why she smells of buttery goodness. “So, if you’re not 6b’s girlfriend, then who are you?”
“Stu and I?” She chuckles. “We’re friends from way back. When he travels with his band, I house sit for him and feed his fish.” She shrugs.
I try not to notice how the metal walls of the elevator feel as if they’re moving inward, closing in on me. I keep my focus on her. “I beg your pardon if I’m staring. My reasons are twofold.” I hold up one finger. “First, you’re incredibly attractive.” That earns me a brilliant smile that punches at my gut, tightening my muscles. “Secondly, and I promise I’m not normally this much of a wanker, but I really hate being stuck here. Not that you’re not excellent company, but I have a thing about closed-in places.”
She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I get it. You already saw me freak out about the dark.” Then her face beams and she shifts her body so that she is sitting the other direction, facing me. “I have an idea.”
I nod.
“Let’s play a game to pass the time, keep our minds distracted from the situation.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve got Scrabble hidden in that bag of yours.”
She smiles but shakes her head. “Nope. But I’ll have to look for a travel version. I love that game.”
“All right, what did you have in mind then?”
“Do y’all play Truth or Dare across the pond?”
I bark out a laugh. Her accent is enchanting, just a hint of a south Texas twang. “I can’t say that I’ve ever played, but I’m familiar with the game. It is a teenage kissing game, yes?”
She claps her hands, then rubs them together. “Among other things.”
“Why do I feel like I’ve just agreed to something terrible?” Still, I smile at her. I push the black frames of my glasses up my nose.
“It’s too late now. But I will let you choose if you want to go first or second.”
“I’ll go first and ask you, truth or dare?”
“I don’t know you quite well enough for a dare just yet, so I’ll take truth.”
“Excellent. Are you single?”
“Very.”
That is fantastic news. “Your turn.”
“Truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
Her brows shoot up. “You’re either brave or cocky.”
“Well, there’s not too much you can dare me to do while we’re stuck in a metal box suspended by cables.”
She squeezes her eyes shut. “Perhaps not quite such graphic descriptions of our predicament next time. We’re trying to forget where we are, remember?”
“Right. My apologies.”
“Okay so I dare you to pull up your phone contacts.”
When I don’t move, she nods. “Go ahead, more instructions coming.”
I chuckle. I pull up my contacts and show it to her.
She plucks it out of my hand and scrolls through. Then she looks up at me, her eyes bright and shining with mischief.
Goddamn she’s attractive.
“I dare you to tell me the sexiest thing about,” she glances back down at my phone, “Florence Brickman.”
I bark out a laugh. “First, that is my great aunt, second, she’s eighty-seven.”
She tsks her tongue and shakes a finger at me. “A dare is a dare.” She leans forward, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Accept or answer an exceptionally hard truth.”
“Jillian, you are quite the ball-buster, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea.”
“I suspect I’d very much like to, love. Now then, ask your hard truth as I won’t be thinking of Aunt Florence in any of those terms.”
“Fair enough.” She bites down on those blood-red lips. With her leaning a little closer to me, I can see she has a tiny diamond on the right side of her nose and a tiny mole dotting the spot right above the bow of her lips. “What non-erogenous part of a woman’s body do you find the sexiest?”
“I’m fairly certain that every part of a woman’s body is erogenous, but to be fair to your question I’ll say ankles. And for the record, you have exceptionally sexy ankles.”
She doesn’t even glance down at her feet, which I know to be covered in red strappy sandals. “Are you flirting with me?”
“I sincerely hope so. Unless you don’t want me to be, then I am being nothing but respectful.” I nod once to give her reassurance. With the #metoo movement, I’m careful about how I speak to people. Having a job with authority, you have to be careful that people never misinterpret your words or intentions.
“I’m the one who suggested we play dirty Truth or Dare.” She winks at me.
“I think I missed the part where it was supposed to be dirty.”
“Nah, I just didn’t tell you.”
I laugh. “Please tell me you aren’t a student at the university.”
“Nah, I didn’t go to college. Too busy partying.”
Something in the way she says it makes me think that’s either not the full story or simply not the truth. Still, I nod.
“Why, are you some fancy college boy?”
“Professor, actually.”
She groans. “So British, intelligent,” she ticked off the words with her fingers, “glasses, that bow tie… you are delicious.”
My heart pounds at her words. “It’s my turn. Truth or dare.”
“Dare,” she says.
“You know me well enough now?”
“Not really, but I’m hoping for a good dare.”
“I dare you to come over here,” I pat my thighs. “Kiss me.” And fuck me if she doesn’t get up on her knees and crawl over to my lap, settle herself astride me and kiss the hell out of me. I grip her hips, my fingers biting into the plump flesh of her ass. I slant my mouth and deepen the kiss, stroking my tongue against hers. A hard knob strokes me and I pull back.
“Jillian,” I breathe. “Is your tongue pierced?”
She slides her tongue out and shows me the simple metal ball pierced through the middle.
Immediately I imagine that running up the length of my cock and I groan. “You are sexy as fuck.” I pull her face back to mine and kiss her again. We kiss like that for a long time, me holding her face and her blowing my goddamn mind with her pierced tongue. I’ve never felt anything like it, and I’m hard as a pipe. I break the kiss and lean my forehead against hers to take several breaths.
“I don’t do this,” she murmurs.
“Do what, love?”
“Hook up with strangers in elevators. I mean I know I look like I probably do, but?—”
I lean back and meet her eyes. I still can’t tell precisely what color they are because of the weird yellow haze of the emergency lights. “We don’t have to do anything. And for the record, I’ve never hooked up with anyone in an elevator either.” I lick my lips and search her face. “I’ve seen you here, several times. Not to sound like a fucking creeper, but I’ve watched you. You’re so beautiful, it’s hard to look away.”
She swallows visibly and for a brief moment I see a slight dent in her bravado, letting me know that some of that is a shield.
“I don’t think that makes you a creeper. I’ve noticed you too.” She has a ghost of a smile on her lips. “I have a weakness for men in glasses. Smart men, actually.”
“We can do this the proper way; I can take you out. We can have a nice dinner. Let me treat you like a lady instead of attacking you like a caveman.”
“I’m pretty sure I started all of this. We’re obviously attracted to one another and have been for a while. Maybe it was bound to happen.”
“Inevitable.”
“Something like that.”
And then, as fate would have it, the emergency generator turns on and the elevator moves. Just like that, the moment is over.
We gather our belongings and I follow her out of the elevator.