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“So take something off. Look, I’ll go first.” He starts unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a chiseled six-pack covered in tattoos and scars.
I can’t help but stare. “You’re just going to strip?”
He shrugs as a bead of sweat runs down his rippling muscles. “It’s hot, and we may be here a while.” He folds his shirt and jacket, setting them down in the corner behind him. “Your turn. You’ll feel better. Trust me.”
“I can’t,” I mutter, but the fight is fading from my voice.
“You can and will,” he orders, his voice becoming firmer. “Take off that jacket and undo your blouse now before you pass out.”
“No.”
He closes the space between us. “Fine, I’ll just wait until you faint and then strip you anyway.”
“You heard of consent, bud?”
“You heard of heatstroke? Remember, what happens in the elevator stays in the elevator. And for what it’s worth, I happen to like those curves of yours.”
“Oh, God,” I mutter, slipping off my jacket. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” At once, I feel better. I loosen a few buttons of my blouse, wafting it with my hand. The air is still stifling, but his approving smile eases my nerves.
“Good girl,” he says, taking my jacket from me. “Take that blouse off too. That’s an order, Isabella.”
I want to disobey him but I can’t do it. My blouse is off a moment later, leaving me in my bra. Despite the heat, my nipples harden under his hungry gaze.
Can he see them through the lace? Can he see the effect his naked chest is having on me. I picture him sweeping me into those arms of his, ripping my panties from my body before…
“Got any water?” I ask, hoping to splash it onto my face.
“Afraid not. Feel better yet?”
“Getting there. You know, I never guessed I’d spend my morning topless with the owner of the building.”
“You’re not topless. Not yet, anyway.” He takes a step toward me. “Take off your bra. Let me see those rock hard nipples of yours. I know you want to, Isabella. Stop fighting your desire.”
“Is that your chat up technique? Bit full on, isn’t it?”
He doesn’t smile. “Nice attempt at distraction. I’ve seen the way your pupils dilate whenever you see me. I’ve heard your breathing change when I stand next to you. I know you want me. Like I said, what happens in here, stays in here.”
“Take off your pants first.” I’m teasing him but he accepts my challenge at once. “I didn’t mean it,” I add but he’s already slipping them off.
“There,” he says with a flicker of a smile. “That feels better. Like being on the beach back at Portofino. Except without the sunshine.”
“Portofino? Where’s that?”
“Italy. Tiny little fishing village. It’s where I was born. Now, are you removing those pants or am I?”
I glance down. There’s a definite bulge in his boxer shorts. I feel a corresponding throb between my legs.
An emptiness that wasn’t there before. I want to reach out and grab that bulge. It’s filled more of my dreams than I want him to know about.
He’s right, of course. I do want him. I spend my nights thinking of him, wishing he would come in through my window and fuck me without saying a word.
I’ve been in this building once a week for the last three months. Every time, I’ve bumped into him in the line for the elevators. He’s never said a word, just stood next to me smelling of sandalwood and cigar smoke, making my clit throb with need.
Now we’re trapped together and I want him to take my V-card more than anything in the world. Just grab hold of me and take the decision out of my hands.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, lifting my chin with his finger. “Be honest.”
I blurt out without thinking. “That if this crashes and we both die, I go out still a virgin.”
