“A sprain then,” I lie. Ordinarily, I’m a facts only kind of man, but the falsehood slips off the tongue easily. As long as it makes Kayla feel better, I could write papers about how the sky is green and the grass is blue.
“I need to get out of here.” She struggles out of my arms. I let her go, and she races to the closed doors. “I can’t be in here. I can’t breathe in here.” Her fists strike impotently against the heavy metal. “Help us. Help! There’s someone stuck in here,” she yells.
I reach past her to flip open the telephone door. There is a small blinking light. It’s not much, but my eyes are adjusting quickly to the darkness.
“There’s a telephone in this elevator?”
“It’s for these situations,” I explain. I wait for a ringtone, but it doesn’t come.
“Well?” I can hear the hope in her voice.
“The university doesn’t maintain its buildings well,” I reply and return the receiver to the cradle.
“No. That’s not an acceptable answer.” She pulls out her phone, her hands shaking as she unlocks the screen. “Dammit. There’s no service in here.” Kayla shoves the useless piece of electronics back in her purse. “What am I going to do?” She draws in a quavery breath. “I’m sorry,” she tells me. “I’m usually so much more put together than this. It’s just…”—gasp—"that I don’t like”—gasp—"dark”—quivering inhale—"places.”
There’s a susurration, and then the space beside me becomes empty. I reach down and find the top of her bowed head. She’s collapsed to her knees. I drop my briefcase and shrug out of my coat, whipping it around her shoulders. Lowering myself to my knees, I draw a shuddering Kayla to my chest. Her small hands curl in my shirt. I hear a sniffle and a caught breath. Her tears wet the expensive cotton. Anxiety roils through me at her obvious terror, so I do the only thing I can think of to take her mind off this situation. I kiss her.
I tuck my thumb under her chin, tilt her face back, and claim her mouth. She parts her lips in surprise, and my tongue sweeps in to taste her. She freezes at the intrusion, and so I pause too, thinking this was the wrong move, but then her hands drag me closer. Our mouths fuse together, and her tongue licks over mine, sending a bolt of electricity from my mouth to my cock. The damn thing springs to attention and pounds against the zipper of my trousers. It senses the wet heat of her cunt is only a barrier or two away.
I jam my hands into her hair and angle her head for a more thorough claiming. Her fingers busily unbutton my shirt. With her help, I strip off my shirt and let her hands explore my bare skin. I plant my ass on the floor and stretch my legs out, pulling her onto my lap so she can straddle me. The heat of her cunt arrows through the layers of fabric as she rocks against my hard shaft.
I slide one hand down to her ass to pull her closer, letting my hand ride her hip while she works herself against my cock. Desire storms through my veins. I should take her now. I should pull off her pants and impale her on my cock, driving her down my turgid length time and again until she’s creaming all over the elevator floor. I circle her waist with my hands and then dip my fingers inside the waistband of her pants, ready to finger her sweetness when the fucking lights turn on.
Her head comes up, breaking our contact. The next sound is a sharp piercing noise followed by a high-pitched voice. “Dr. Amherst, is that you?”
My head drops back in resignation. “Yes,” I answer wearily. Why’d they have to save us? We’re adults. We can save our own damn selves.
“I’m so sorry. There was a slight malfunction, but everything is working, and you should be able to get to the parking garage with no problems.”
“Thanks,” I answer sourly. I help Kayla get to her feet. She doesn’t look at me while I button my shirt. I’m fully clothed by the time the elevator reaches the parking lot level.
“I’ll hand in my resignation tomorrow, Dr. Nathan Amherst,” she tells me as the doors slide open.
Four
Kayla
What is wrong with me? I crawled up my boss like he was a freaking tree. Before we’d even gotten on the elevator he’d made it clear that he didn’t want to go anywhere with me. In a small space of time we went from going to have dinner together to him trying to get away from me as quickly as he possibly could. So much so that he tried to close the elevator doors on me. I’m not really sure why his demeanor changed. The only thing I do know is that I am crushing on him. Hard.
I must have done something, and he picked up on it. He probably wanted to make sure we weren’t blurring any lines and that we remained professional. I’m guessing his attitude change was his way of drawing the line in the sand. It was abrupt, and I couldn't fight the sting I’d felt when he made it clear he didn't want me to be in a small space with him.
He had the foresight to see that I would attach myself to him given the chance. I’ve lived up to that. I clung to him in the dark. It’s a silly thing to be afraid of, but I could never shake the fear. I still leave a light on in my bathroom with the door creaked an inch at night when I go to bed.
How am I going to tell my mom about this? She gave me a pep talk this morning knowing that I was nervous for my first day. I have no doubt she’ll be calling me tonight to get all of the details. We talk most nights. We’ve been doing it since I moved out on my own a few months ago. I didn't have to, but I thought it was the next step in my life.
All through college I worked and saved. My nest egg isn't giant, but it allowed me to get a studio apartment over this cute bakery. If Mom were home right now, I’d drive over there and confess everything, but she’s not there. She’s on a ship out in the middle of the ocean on a month-long cruise with her friends.
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Nathan,” Dr. Amherst says very close to my ear, sending a tingle down my spine. I turn around and run right into him. I start to fall backward, but he grabs me and pulls me into his body so that I don’t hit the ground. My fingers dig into his shirt as I gaze up at him. His brows are furrowed together like he’s studying me and I’m some creature he can’t figure out. “Say it. I want to hear you say my name.” His hold on me tightens.
“Nathan.” I can tell that he’s still turned on. I know it’s the normal human reaction for a man to have when a woman humps them. The body readies itself for sex. “I’m sorry.” I try to wiggle out of his hold, but I get nowhere. His cock jerks against me.
“You’re not quitting.”
“But—”
“This isn't up for discussion.” His hold on me loosens some so I can take a small half step back. “I’m hungry again.” I furrow my eyebrows because this man is giving me whiplash.
“I should get home.” He doesn't look happy with my answer. “I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say.
“Stop apologizing,” he orders. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I’m sorry; it's a habit.” I gasp, putting my hand over my mouth. I’m sure he’s not surprised by my nervous rambling. I’ve pretty much done it all day. He lets out a small, surprising chuckle. I drop my hand from my mouth, my eyes going to his. It’s still a touch red from our kisses. I wonder if mine looks the same. “I know I made you…” I glance down at his cock.