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“This is insane,” she breathed. “Why does this feel so good? I don’t even know you.”
Untangling my hand from her hair, I let it coast slowly over the line of her arm, where she clutched my shirt until my palm rested on the firmness of her thigh. Slowly, I gathered up the material of her skirt, and she shivered.
Her skin was smooth and warm. My palm skated over her shin, her knee, the firm muscle of her thigh, and as it did, I sipped delicately at her lips, just the whisper of kisses, while she struggled to gain her breath.
“That’s why it feels good,” I told her against her mouth. “Our secret, Ivy. No one will know, and there’s something delicious about that, isn’t there?”
She nodded.
“You’ll go home after this,” I told her, using the edge of my teeth on her bottom lip. “And you’ll think about what we’re doing right now.”
My fingers tightened on her thigh, my thumb digging in just under the delicious curve of her backside.
“You’ll think about my hands,” I whispered into her skin, “and you’ll try to touch yourself in the same way, but it won’t work.”
“Oh,” she breathed, rubbing her nose along the edge of mine, our lips brushing against each other. “Please, Cameron.”
“Please what?” I nipped at her chin.
“Please touch me,” she begged.
“I am.” My thumb brushed her inner thigh, back and forth and back and forth, never moving farther, and she shivered again. “Have you ever done this with someone you don’t know?”
“No,” she managed. “I never do anything like this. Everything is … planned out. I’m always in control of what’s going to happen, always know what’s going to happen.”
“And you don’t now?” I asked.
She shook her head. In the weak light of the elevator, I could tell she had her eyes closed, and suddenly, I wanted them wide open. I wanted her to look, to see, to know exactly how important this was for me.
“Look at me,” I said, voice firm. Her eyes snapped open. “There she is,” I murmured. “What do you want to happen, Ivy? I want you to tell me.”
“I can’t,” she whispered. “I’ve never…”
My body stilled. “You’ve never… what?”
She smirked. “I’ve done that,” she said lightly, and my body sagged in relief. “Once.”
“With your would-be husband?” I asked. My thumb never stopped its soft brushes against her skin. Refusing to move closer to the heat between her legs.
Ivy shook her head slowly.
“Was it good?” I asked roughly.
Again, she shook her head.
“It would be with us,” I promised her. Then I kissed her, fierce and deep and hot. I poured my fucking soul into that kiss, making promises that I had no right to make—about how I’d make her feel, how I’d bring us both an unholy amount of pleasure if I got the chance. As I did, I tightened my hand on her thigh until I was sure she’d have marks. I broke the kiss and spoke against her mouth. “It would be good, Ivy. We’d both end sweaty and shaking and so fucking spent that we couldn’t move. I could make you forget your name if you let me.”
She sighed shakily, throwing her head back as she gripped my wrist under her skirt and tried to tug my hand closer to where we both wanted it.
Just as I started edging the lace underwear out of the way, our mouths working against each other in an erotic kiss that I very much wanted to recreate where my hand currently was, the elevator made a loud clanging noise, and another banging came from above us.
We both froze.
The sounds got louder. Closer.
“You two still all right in there?” a voice asked. “We found another engineer. He should have you out soon.”
“For fuck’s sake,” she whispered. “Are you joking?”
