Tuesday, February 24, 2015

The Elevator Scene Chapter 2 of REVIVAL, erotic romance by @MKGilher

I push through the revolving glass doors and enter the impressive high-rise Jackson Building. Sleek steel fixtures combined with white accent furniture really do tell a person the rent is high. Uncle Bernie knew his clientele would need the assurance of money and power, and as far as I was concerned, this lobby did just that. I scan my badge with security and head in the direction of the multiple, chrome-plated elevators. 

When the elevator arrives, I use proper etiquette and shuffle toward the back. I maneuver my way as close to the rear of the elevator as I can, trying not to disturb the row of people already there. I swivel around toward the front and watch the last few people bobble in like eager sardines. 

The elevator doors shut and the up arrow turns green as a ping penetrates the awkward silence of our enclosure. I feel a moment of weightlessness as the floor lurches upward. A smile creeps across my face as "Motivation" by Kelly Rowland shuffles over. Thank god no one can hear my music right now, because it's a dirty little song and I love every minute of it. 

I look down at my phone to check the time. Jeez, this elevator. Come on, come on… I should've taken the stairs for some exercise. But instead, I'm stuck in the back of this slow moving elevator. Smart thinking, moron. You're going to be late. 

I look down between my feet and notice a sleek pair of men's black Italian leather shoes behind me. Wow. Those are some nice shoes. Maybe a size 13? Size 14? My mouth waters as I remember what they say about men with big feet. Oh, you need to get laid, Summers. 

The stranger's presence oozes affluence, power, and arrogance, just from wearing those thick-stitched leather shoes. Get it together, Summers. You've only seen his shoes. You're totally losing it. 

Maybe I should turn around? But once I see him, I may turn into a giant puddle of horny goo. For all I know, he could look like a hobbit or an ogre or some other disturbing imaginary creature from a land far, far away. 

As I muster up the guts to turn around, the doors slide open and more passengers enter the elevator. I can't believe how many people are trying to jam into this elevator just to avoid a little exercise. Well, I guess I did too, but that's not the point. 

I'm feeling claustrophobic. I wish I could just yell, Get off this elevator and take the dang stairs, people! Since I can't, because it'd be rude, I close my eyes and picture a beach with loud crashing waves. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. A little better. And again. Okay, much better. 

I open my eyes just as the last couple of people turn to their sides and scuffle their way onto the elevator. The ripple effect forces me backward, pushing my bottom right into the Italian-shoed stranger. 

Well, this is a great first day back, Summers. You're gonna be late, have a panic attack, and rub yourself up against a stranger with gorgeous shoes. Perfect. There should definitely be laws preventing me from leaving my apartment on certain days. 

I hear a weird creaking noise and the lights flicker. I'm jostled about before the elevator jerks to a halt in mid-flight and the lights go out. My fellow elevator patrons gasp and grumble. Random lights appear as people pull out their cellphones. In the commotion of the crowded elevator, I'm heaved back onto my Italian-shoed stranger even more. I feel strong hands wrap around my hips. I'm so close I can feel his chest rising and falling on my back. 

Oh. Sweet. Jesus. 

I can't fucking breathe. I can't fucking breathe. 

His breath is steady and calm on my neck, almost as if he's enjoying watching me struggle for my self-control. The cat pinning the mouse down by the tail as the mouse struggles to get away. 

Should I pull away from him? The Slut Ivy on my right shoulder rolls her eyes and says, Duh, no silly. Stay right where you are. The Feminist Ivy on my left shoulder is scowling at me. Just get your ass to work on time, woman. The truth is I couldn't move an inch even if I wanted to. Which I don't. 

Time seems to have stopped. All I know is he's holding me to the heat of his massive male frame. I can't stop the images of this stranger's tongue casually licking its way down my entire body. I haven't even seen this man. But I am a shoe whore, and his shoes were fabulous. 

I feel an uncontrollable electrical pull toward him. Synapses are firing between our bodies creating sparks that would light up even the darkest of nights. 

He intensifies his hold on my left hipbone, his fingers digging in, while his other hand drifts up my back to my right ear. He softly pulls on the cord to my earbud, and all I can concentrate on is his warm, ragged breath on my neck. 

He leans in close to my ear, and I hear a sucking sound. What the hell? I feel a warm sensation as he trails the tip of his wet finger from my shoulder up to my right earlobe. 

Holy shit. 

My breath catches, and a low chuckle vibrates against my skin. Prick. I smile to myself for mentally insulting him. He flexes his fingers and glides his large palm across my cashmere-covered abdomen and presses lightly on my belly. He's trying to help me slow my breathing. Bringing me back to the present… with him. 

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. 

He pushes on my abdomen and forces my backside right onto his rock hard erection. Just kill me now. I'm good. I could totally write my obituary after this experience. Dead from feeling Italian-shoed stranger's erection against my ass. What a great way to go. 

I can feel his breathing speed up just below my right earlobe, matching mine. Is he just as affected as I am? He reaches for my right wrist and pins it behind me on my lower back. Great, now I can feel his rippling hard abs along with his swelling erection. His grip is arduous, strong, and unforgiving. But damn, does it feel good. Like home… with apple pie baking in the oven. 

The elevator jolts as if we're all on a roller coaster ride. His hold deepens around me, bringing me relief and comfort. I must be insane to think he's bringing me relief and comfort. I'm in this pitch-black elevator, stuck on god knows what floor, and I'm having an erogenous affair with a stranger. Yet, somehow, my soul knows I'm safe in his arms. It's nothing like I ever felt with Kevin or any of the others before him. The lights flicker again, but remain off, leaving me to wonder if I'm in a dream. A sweet dream I hope I never wake from. Just induce this coma, please. Thanks doc, I won't be needing to call you in the morning. 

He uses his foot to part my feet and pushes one leg between mine. His sturdy thigh nudges against my bottom. He gathers my hair and moves it to my right side, baring the left side of my neck and my left shoulder. Thank you, cashmere tunic. He runs a fingertip from my ear, over my clavicle, to my upper arm, and I'm done for. This is how I'm going to die. Yep, this is it. Just put me out of my misery, please. 

A ping fills the dark space and the emergency lights flicker on. The elevator lurches upward and the passengers sigh in relief. We come to a stop again, and the doors open to a landing full of building security. I have no idea what floor I'm on or what the hell my name is. All I know is this stranger still has me powerfully imprisoned up against him. He lets go of my hair, and I hear a sharp intake of air next to my right earlobe. 

He hisses, "I love that fucking song," and pops my right earbud back in. The strong hold around my abdomen vanishes.
REVIVAL Book One in the Return to Us Trilogy

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