Slaying Goliath

Chapter 2

The elevator was too damn small and hot, it was like a furnace in here. Sure, he'd pulled on every piece of clothing he had to hide himself from this woman but that didn't explain why his body was burning up with something he had no right to feel. He wanted to push her up against that wall and kiss her properly. Kiss her until she surrendered to him and wrapped her long legs around his waist and rubbed herself against the hard length that was tenting out his suit pants. He thanked the cold weather again, this time for making it necessary to wear this coat.

He was angry with himself. Why had he kissed her in the first place? Yes, he wanted to get out of there, and yes, he'd disliked the way that the college prat had spoken to her, but did that warrant him breaking his golden rule? No. For all these years he'd stuck to his own rules. He'd been disciplined. And in that one moment, he'd thrown caution to the wind and kissed her. Shit. He'd meant to brush his lips across her cheek, he told himself now, but who was he fooling.

The look she gave him afterwards would stay with him for years to come. He'd stood there like a mute idiot and she'd looked at him with her wide trusting eyes that yearned for something that he couldn't give her. He wanted to give it to her, slowly as he gradually introduced her to every inch of him until she encased the entirety of his length, but that wasn't how the world worked. She needed a man who would deserve a look like that, he wasn't that man.

And now she had to go and thank him? It took everything in his arsenal not to turn around and do something to deserve that gratitude. He dropped his head, cringed at the way that he was pressed against the zipper, wished there was some way he could adjust himself without it being obvious. He looked up to the slowly decreasing numbers above the door of the elevator and tried to think about something else. He needed to go home and break another one of his golden rules, unfortunately, this one involved a single-malt whisky rather than a long night of love-making.

Why wasn't she talking? If she started jabbering on, asking questions and making noise that would distract him, annoy him, and make it easier to say good-night when this torturous elevator journey finished. But she stood there in silence and that silence was the most erotic thing she could do in this small space. Well, maybe not the most erotic thing she could do, his mind started to catalogue all the things she could do to him in the remaining minutes they had left.

The ding of the elevator startled him. He pulled his coat together ensuring that all evidence of the effect she was having on him was hidden. Then he used his hand to signal that she should precede him, it was manners, and gave him one last look at those long legs and sexy sway of her hips. The coat she wore was department store, thin, only down to mid-thigh, and had plastic buttons. He wasn't complaining because it didn't disrupt the view, but it did raise questions as to who she was and why she was there tonight.

When they got to the door he handed the doorman his parking token and turned to her. She was pulling on her gloves and adjusting her scarf, not searching for the plastic disc. Was she walking?

"Where?" he forced the word out.

She looked at him and blinked with the same wide eye expression that made his blood boil. Then she smiled with a sad look in her eyes, before she looked at the gold embossed glass entrance doors and into the night, leaving his question unanswered. He wished he had brought something to write on. His voice wasn't cutting it. He wanted to communicate to her, to express himself, and the harsh noises he made weren't going to make her want him.

She looked back as his car arrived. He'd brought the Audi R8, black and sleek, it waited outside. The doorman handed him the keys as they both stepped out onto the sidewalk.