The elevator doors slide shut with a soft hiss, sealing us inside the mirrored box that climbs toward Locke's penthouse.
I steal a glance at him, his broad frame filling the space beside me, his black t-shirt stretched across the hard planes of his chest.
The silence pulses in my ears, heavy and electric, until the words slip from my lips in a soft whisper. “Hey, handsome."
He turns his head, gray eyes locking onto mine.
I rise onto my tiptoes without thinking, closing the distance.
He moves then, backing me against the cool elevator wall. His hips pin me there, the hard length of his c**k straining against his jeans and nudging insistently at my thigh.
My legs part slightly as his free hand trails down my side, thumb brushing the underside of my breast before gripping my waist.
