I blew out a sigh and glanced at the clock. Five fifteen. I’d built in the extra quarter of an hour so as not to get stuck riding in the elevator alone with Evie, and it was finally time to go.
I packed up my briefcase and snagged the file I’d barely gotten anything done on due to my distraction, vowing to catch up over the weekend. With one last glance at my desk to be sure I hadn’t forgotten anything, I swept out of the office and down the hall.
“Hey. No overtime on a Friday,” Evie murmured in a low voice as she stepped up beside me with a smile.
She matched her stride to mine as we walked toward the elevators, and it was all I could do not to turn and snarl at her like a cornered dog. Did she have any idea what she was doing to me?
I shot a glance her way only because I couldn’t seem to help myself, and swallowed a groan. She’d clearly made plans for after work, because in place of the fitted blazer she’d worn to the office that morning, she had on a peach cashmere sweater. It hung saucily off one shoulder, revealing about five inches of creamy skin that I wanted to lick more than I wanted to take my next breath.
Her glossy peach-colored lips were tipped up in a smile as she cocked her head. “You okay? You look . . . weird,” she said, her brow furrowing.
I had to bite back a bark of laughter at that. Weird, you mean like all I can think about is fucking-your-brains-out weird?
But what I actually said was, “Nah. Just been a long week. Ready to get out and get the weekend started.”
We slowed in unison in front of the elevators and both reached for the DOWN button at the same time. Our fingers brushed, and she jerked back like I’d burned her.
“Sorry,” she squeaked. “Go ahead.”
I punched the arrow and then shot her another quick look. I should have resisted the urge, because what I saw only made my struggles that much worse. All week long, I’d been caught up in my own misery. On the occasions I hadn’t been able to avoid seeing her face-to-face, Evie had seemed like she’d gotten past what had happened between us in Paris. But now, watching as a flush stained her cheeks and her pupils dilated, I wasn’t so sure.
It was one thing for me to manage my own desire. It hadn’t been easy, but I was getting by, albeit pathetically.
Now, though? Seeing that look on her face and realizing that, just maybe, she still wanted me too? Hard didn’t even come close to describing it.
My cock took on a life of its own. Swelling and thickening in my pants like an entity entirely separate from my body.
We both stood stock-still as we waited for what felt like a year until the elevator dinged. When the doors finally opened, I waved her in, catching a glimpse of hard nipples poking against that cashmere sweater. My throat went dry as I stepped in beside her, making sure to keep a solid two feet between us.
The second the door closed, the tension grew even thicker.
People fucked in elevators all the time. Not just in porn or in movies, but in real life too. In my mind, Evie took one big step forward, smashed her hand over that red STOP button, and then walked right up to me. She crushed her lithe body against mine, covered my cock with her hand, and said, “Take me, Smith. Fuck me until I scream.”
In real life, though, none of that happened. We stood there with only our combined labored breaths filling the tiny space until finally, the torture box stopped moving.
God damn it, this is frustrating.
When the doors slid open, we both practically dived out of the elevator and mumbled quick good-byes. It wasn’t until an hour later, behind closed doors and the safety of my apartment, that I finally got some relief from the agony she was putting me through.
I stood in the shower, water rolling off me as I gritted my teeth, my cock in hand. I could have blown in two strokes, I was so hard and wanting. Instead, I drew it out, imagining Evie was in the stall with me. On her knees, droplets of water shimmering on her naked flesh as she sucked me. That long honey-colored hair wet beneath my hands as I used it to work her over my shaft. Slow and easy at first, then long and deep. Until the head of my cock butted against the back of her throat.
My dream Evie didn’t pull away. She pulled me closer, murmuring encouragement, taking me deeper. She rose up higher on her knees, and her slick, wet breasts grazed my thighs as she bobbed rhythmically up and down.
“Ah, fuck,” I groaned.
I was coming. I could feel the hot liquid pooling in my balls, making them achy and heavy. One more firm stroke, and then it was over. I jerked, my legs quaking as every nerve ending came to life in a rush. Hot cum jetted out onto the dripping tiles, painting them glossy white as I sucked in a shuddering breath.