“One sec,” Stu says as a young woman bustles over, followed by two other people. “Stu, the Galileo server shut down this morning…”
Great. Just what I need-extra time in an elevator. I swallow, ignoring the prickling on my skin. A panic attack will not make a good impression.
Stu takes his foot out of the door as the young woman opens her laptop to show him something.
The door snicks closed, and the elevator ascends. Just like that, I’ve lost my escort. So much for tight security.
I punch the number six button. I know where I’m going. The sooner I’m off this tiny box of death, the better.
We’re halfway up when the lights flicker. Once, twice, then off.
“What the…” I trail off to focus on breathing. I have about a ten second window before full on freak out.
The suit next to me mutters something. The light from his phone casts an eerie blue light on the walls.
The elevator car grinds to a stop.
Oh no. Here it comes. My heart slams in my chest; my lungs grab for breath.
Stop, I tell my panic. It’s nothing. The elevator will start up again in a second. You’re not stuck here.
My body doesn’t believe me. My stomach clutches, skin grows clammy. Everything goes dark. Either my vision has dimmed or the guy has just put his phone to his ear. I sway on my feet.
The big guy curses. “No reception in here.”
My heel twists under me, and I grab the rail, breath coming in quick gasps.
“Hey.” The guy has a voice to match his giant size, deep and resonant. I’d find it sexy under different circumstances. “Are you freaking out?” Slight disdain in his tone.
Not my fault, buddy. “Yeah.” I barely get the word out on a pant. My death grip on the handrail tightens.
Stay on your feet. Don’t faint-not now. Not here.
“I don’t like small spaces.” Understatement of the year.
Did the elevator just move? Or is my body reeling out of control? Old panic grips me. I’ll die in here. I’m never going to get out.
Two large hands push me back against the elevator wall, pinning me with pressure on my sternum. “Wh-what are you doing?” I gasp.
“Triggering your calm reflex.” He sounds calm, as if he shoves hyperventilating girls up against a wall on a daily basis. “Is it working?”
“Yeah. Having a strange guy grope me always calms me down.” I swore I’d hide my sarcasm until I landed the job, but here it comes, spewing out. Being seconds away from passing out will do that to a girl.
“I’m not groping you,” he says.
“That’s what all the guys say,” I mumble.
His short chuckle cuts off as soon as it starts. Almost like he didn’t mean to let it out.
Who is this guy?
My heart rate slows, but my head still spins. I’ve never had a man stand so close to me before. Not to mention touch me. A few inches over, and he’d be cupping my breasts.
Now, there’s a thought. Sensations I haven’t felt before outside the privacy of my bedroom thrill through me.
“Not that I mind you groping me,” I babble. “I just think you should buy me dinner first-”
His hands leave my sternum so fast, I lurch forward. Before I can fall, he catches my shoulders and flips me around. He locks his arms around me from behind, applying pressure to my breastbone again.
“How’s this?” He sounds amused. “Better? I don’t want my good deed to get me written up on charges of sexual harassment.”
God, his voice. His lips are right next to my ear. He’s not trying to seduce me, but, man oh man, just the words “sexual harassment” light my body up.
“Sorry.” My voice strangles a bit. “I didn’t mean to accuse you. What I meant was… thank you.”
For a moment, he doesn’t move, and I breathe into his firm hands, surrounding me, protecting me, keeping me safe. And all I can think is…damn. I thought a panic attack would be bad. Now I’m stuck in an elevator, wrapped in a total stranger’s arms. So. Very. Turned. On. It’s like my pussy is disconnected from my body. The rest of me is running around wringing my hands with worry, but my hooha thinks being manhandled by a stranger in a dark elevator is a good reason to get all excited.
“You should sit down.”
Apparently, I have no choice, because he lowers me to the ground with steady, inexorable pressure. Once there, he eases me against the wall, his firm, yet gentle hands maneuvering me like a doll. Sharp words dance on the tip of my tongue-I’m a grown ass woman, not Barbie-but sitting feels good. Despite his blunt caveman act, he’s taking care of me. I almost miss his hands on my sternum.
“Where’d you learn that?” I ask to distract myself from the fact I’m trapped in a tight rectangle of space with a guy who has no qualms about running his hands all over me. I am totally qualm-less about it, too, though I wish I could remember what he looks like. All I have is a vague impression of a rugged jaw and air of impatience. I was too focused on psyching myself up to ride the elevator to check him out.
“Years and years of terrifying women in dark places.”
Ah. A kindred spirit in dry wit. I like him even more. “Thanks,” I say after a moment.
He sits down next to me, his suit jacket brushing mine. “You’re still freaking out.”
“Yeah, but it’s better. Talking would help. Can we talk?”
“Okay.” He adopts a German accent to sound like Freud, “Ven did you first notice zee problem?”
~.~
Jackson
The beautiful human female’s laugh comes so hard, she almost chokes on it. She continues to giggle for a moment-somewhat hysterically. Little bubbles of laughter keep rising to the surface every time she tries to speak. Finally, she chokes out, “I meant talk to distract me-about something else.”