Chapter 15

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Calloway

Every step towards the elevator sends a ripple of anticipation through me. I can feel Michael's body beside mine, the heat of him, the gentle pressure of his shoulder brushing against me. The weight of his watch hangs from my wrist, and my bare, sensitive skin still tingles where he touched it.

What is happening to me?

It defies every rational thought. Things are as backward as the bloody shipwreck exercise. But with each flutter that begins in my abdomen, rippling down into the space between my legs, I surrender to it.

I can barely breathe as we pause and Michael presses the button, clears his throat softly. I stare resolutely forward. I don't think I could bear anything else.

But he has other ideas. He says, "Look at me."

Oh, fuck. Doesn't he realise how precarious this is, how it's taking every ounce of my self control already?

"Look at me, Calloway," he orders once more.

I obey. Tearing my gaze to meet his own. His eyes are dark with hunger, and something I don't understand flickers through them. Only when he reaches for my hand, do I realise it might have been nervousness.

He presses his fingertips softly to mine, gently as we wait. Plays with my fingers as he holds my hand. It's such a simple gesture — I've seen people holding hands plenty of times in my life. I never knew it could send jolts through my body, gathering between my thighs. I never thought my skin could burn with it, breathing could become so difficult. He's carrying his suit blazer in the other arm, and the sight of his flat torso in the shirt, hanging so gracefully from him, is only enhancing everything I feel.

Not to mention the way he'd unbuttoned the collar — maybe it's because Michael is always so put together. Always so flawless.

I have the sudden urge to mess him up.

The empty elevator door opens. His hand is still claiming mine as we get in. There's a moment of silence between us, of hesitation, before he steps in closer towards me, and the doors shut.

As soon as it does, he pins me back to the wall, blazer falling forgotten to the ground. I can feel the paneling pressed against my ass, my shoulders, as Michael splays his hands out either side of me, trapping me and pinning me there. Heat floods the nape of my neck, and an ache forms in my core, a needy and desperate feeling.

He brings one hand to glide down my throat, across my collar, the side of my body. My heart beats a little faster, and a small whimper catches in my chest. I can smell his clean cologne everywhere. I can feel him everywhere.

My eyes flutter shut and he leans into me, his breath tickling my ear. A flush of goosebumps sears across my spine. Every touch of his is teasing, pulling at the sensations already forming between my legs.

And then he says, "Do you want it?"

Oh my god. I release a soft groan. "Fuck you, Gray."

"However you like, sweetheart."

He presses his lips just below my ear, brushing the skin, trailing across my jaw. I feel it everywhere. I want to feel him everywhere.

The elevator begins to rise with a soft lurch. They're slow to operate, which is why I prefer the stairs.

With his mouth on me, I'm not sure I do anymore.

He reaches my lips and I whimper, bringing my hands to his neck, wanting so badly to taste him. But he teases me at the last minute, pausing, pulling away as he eyes flicker up and down my face.

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