I couldn’t see it, but I could feel him smiling at me.
Shaking my head, I said, “Okay, this conversation is just getting weird.”
“Just now getting weird? I believe this encounter started getting weird the moment you broke my eardrum.”
This whole situation was so ridiculous. Suddenly, I started to laugh. The metal balls slipped out of my hand onto the elevator floor and rolled away.
“You dropped your balls.”
The deadpan way he said it caused me to laugh even harder. He joined me, and we were both officially laughing hysterically. This situation was making us both delirious.
Eventually, we were sitting on the ground with our backs against the wall. A few moments of silence passed. It hit me that he smelled really freaking good. It was like a mix of cologne and a manly scent that was all his own. I wondered if he was even attractive. I had to admit, his voice alone was sexy as hell.
I finally asked, “What do you look like?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
“I’m just trying to make conversation.”
I could feel his words vibrating against me when he leaned in. “What do you think I look like?” His voice really was very arousing.
I cleared my throat. “You actually have a really nice voice, very mature. I kind of picture you as an older, distinguished man. Maybe you look like James Brolin.”
“I’ll accept that.”
“What about me?” I asked.
“Well, see, I got a look at you—from behind. So all I really know is that you have an amazing ass and nice teeth, since they’re practically glowing in the dark.”
My breathing was starting to become a bit labored.
He must have sensed my nerves acting up again when he chided, “If you’re about to yell like a hyena again, why don’t you at least yell for some help. Put that shit to good use.”
I got up suddenly and began to bang on the elevator doors. “Help! Help!”
My cries for help were to no avail.
“Okay, you can stop now.”
Rejoining him on the ground, I felt another wave of panic coming on. It was really hard to fight these feelings without any visual distractions. I had never had to deal with this in the pitch dark before.
“Can you hold my hand again?”
“Sure,” he simply said.
He tightly enveloped my hand in his. Without visual stimuli, I focused on the other senses, particularly smell and touch. Relishing the feel of his big, warm hand and breathing in his scent, I closed my eyes and tried to calm down.
He suddenly jumped and let go of me. “Light!”
My eyes flashed open to find that the lights in the elevator car had turned back on.
“Light!” I screamed.
When I turned to instinctively hug him, I stopped short, and my heart nearly skipped a beat. I took him in for several seconds. This guy was far more handsome than I could ever have imagined—to the point where I was now painfully embarrassed by everything that had ensued in the darkness.
He looked nothing like James Brolin. He was younger, hotter, more rugged. I’d put him in his early thirties.
My elevator mate had dark, inky-colored hair, long around the ears and buried under a baseball cap that was turned backwards. His eyes were a striking steel blue, and he was sporting just the right amount of chin scruff over his beautifully defined jaw.
The words wouldn’t come to me. I simply said, “Hi,” as if it were the first moment we’d actually met.
He flashed a dangerously sexy smile and winked. “Hi.”
Wow. My little ball player was quite the fox.
I’d only seen her from the back before the lights went out. Now, I was staring into her beautiful, big brown eyes, feeling like this elevator mishap wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
She cleared her throat. “The lights came back, but we’re still stuck.”
I clicked on some of the buttons. “Seems that way. But this is a step in the right direction. I bet this thing will be moving in no time.”
And by this thing moving, I do not mean my dick, although I could have sworn I felt it twitch when she just licked her beautiful full lips.
Do that again.
Fuck.
She is beautiful.
My eyes travelled down the length of her body then back up again, loving how the small buttons on her conservative blouse formed a path up to her delicate neck. I wouldn’t have minded sucking on that skin.
Maybe I could entice her to play hooky with me.
“Where are you headed once we get out of here?” I asked.
“The thirty-fourth floor,” she said.
What?
What is she doing going up to my floor?
I know she doesn’t work for me. I would have remembered that face, those eyes.
“What kind of business you have going on up there?”
“I actually have the pleasure of interviewing Mister Moneybags himself.”
My stomach sank.
Ohhhh.
This didn’t bode well for me.
I swallowed then cocked my head to the side and played dumb. “Who?”
“The elusive Dexter Truitt. He’s the CEO of Montague Enterprises. They occupy the entire top floor.”
Trying to seem like I was not seriously about to lose my shit, I asked, “Why do you call him Mister Moneybags?”
“I just picture him to be this crabby, money-hungry asshole, I guess. Sounds like a fitting name. Of course, I don’t actually know him.”
“Why do you think that way about him, then?”
“I have my reasons.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t assume the worst about people until you get to know them.” Even though I knew the answer, I asked, “Why are you interviewing him anyway?”
“I work for a business magazine, Finance Times. I was assigned to cover an exclusive we snagged. It’s about Truitt’s ‘coming out’ of sorts. He’s always kept very private after taking over the company from his father, not wanting to be photographed or interviewed. His ability to keep himself pretty much a mystery has been impeccable. When I found out that we would be granted his first interview, I jumped at the opportunity to volunteer.”
“Why is that? I mean, if you don’t like the guy…”
“I think it will be fun to grill him.”
“You don’t strike me as someone who typically gets off on making other people sweat, especially considering your panic issues.”
“Well, believe me when I say I will get my shit together for this. I am not letting this opportunity pass me by.”
“You know you really shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. You’ve already determined that you think this guy is an asshole, and you’ve never even met him. Just because someone is rich and powerful doesn’t make them a bad person.”
“It’s not just that.”
“What is it, then?”
“Let’s just say, I’ve done my homework for this interview, and I have first-hand knowledge the guy’s an asshole. It’s too much to get into.”