Taking Care of Business

“Stop! I can’t just do someone in the elevator.”

“Of course you can. You got condoms?”

Julie nodded. She’d bought them weeks ago, and they’d been burning a hole in her purse ever since. She wanted to use them. It was insane, but she’d been thinking about it for two months now. She wanted to stop the elevator, hand him the condom and let herself do what she’d been fantasizing about.

“Meanwhile,” Karen said with a heavy sigh. “I’ve got to get home. Tomorrow’s lecture awaits.” Thankfully, Karen also taught at the Chicago School of Design. The collapse of their company would require a box of Kleenex and another of chocolates, but she wouldn’t be out on the street. Julie, on the other hand, would have to sell her laptop to pay for the bus ride home.

“Hey!” Karen cried as she playfully swiped at Julie’s leg with her portfolio. “Don’t stay here all night stewing. Go find Elevator Man. Or someone else.”

“Karen—”

“Seriously. Something will come up. Just have faith.”

Would it? Julie wondered. And if it did, did she still have the heart to pursue it? Instead of answering, she gave her friend a warm smile. “You’re the best,” she said. “I’m glad I picked you to go belly-up with.”

“Three more weeks,” Karen returned. “We’re not done until the rent expires in three weeks.” Then she was gone, heading out into the darkened expanse of the downtown office building.

Julie didn’t speak as their suite door clicked shut. She couldn’t. Her throat had clogged up and her eyes were watering. Three weeks or three years, it didn’t matter. She just didn’t think she had the heart to keep trying. Besides, she told herself sternly, she wanted to go home. She missed her family. What she couldn’t get past was that she’d be returning home a failure. A bankrupt failure.

It was on her twelfth birthday that she’d started talking about making it big in the big city. Her two younger brothers had laughed. Her sister, too, right after she’d said, “Julie always tells stories.” Even her mom had patted her head as if to say, isn’t she cute, dreaming the impossible dream. Only her father had taken her side. He’d told her then she could do anything she wanted, even move to Chicago and make her fortune.

It had taken fifteen years to make her dream a reality—or so she’d thought. But now she realized that her sister was right. Web Wit and Wonder was just another story that never came true. Pushing away that morose thought, she turned to her laptop and started typing. She stayed at her desk for hours more, searching for something, anything, to tide them over for another month. She didn’t find it. No jobs for an ad agency. Nothing even for a talented copywriter. She was out of options and out of money. It was time to go home.

Glancing at her clock, she was startled to see that it was nearly ten. Way too late for Elevator Man. She would have to count on her own fantasies for relief tonight. Just as well. She was feeling much too vulnerable right then. She didn’t even have a plant to go home to. Nothing but the ever-present certainty that she’d failed.

She closed up her laptop with a definitive click. She didn’t have a coat today despite the early fall cold snap. She’d chosen instead a wrap sweater top over dress pants. It was soft and warm, a gift from her younger sister for her birthday. Wearing it felt like being wrapped in cashmere love, though it was simple cotton. And except for Elevator Man, it was the only thing that had caressed her in a very long time. She must have known this morning that she’d need a hug by night.

Her thoughts were getting too morose. “Tomorrow, I can begin again,” she said out loud as a way to bolster her spirits. She stepped into the dark corridor, locking the office door behind her. The building was designed like a big rectangle around a central courtyard complete with trees and a water fountain. Way up high, the glass-paneled roof let in sunlight by day. Tonight, a big brilliant moon pierced the darkness. Only the robotics firm on the top floor had lights on. Robotics, apparently, weren’t affected by the sluggish economy, unlike small advertising firms.

She walked to the elevator bank and pressed a button. Her thoughts returned to Elevator Man, and she sternly reminded herself not to hope. At this hour, he had surely gone home already. That left her free to imagine all sorts of wildly erotic scenarios. The elevator took a long time coming, so she was able to fully steep herself in her fantasies. She pictured him behind her and all of Paris spread out before them. She imagined the thrust of his erection, the caress of his hands on her body. She was a wild woman, desired by a hot guy and completely free to enjoy her body. No work, no cares, just a man taking her to the ultimate sexual peak. God, it was heaven!

She was smiling as the metal doors parted, then she gasped in surprise. There, leaning back against the glass rear panel was Elevator Man. His usual coveralls were gone. Instead, he wore sneakers, dark jeans and a well worn cotton tee. The color was indigo fading to gray. Whatever image had once been there was now long gone, leaving little to distract her from the rippled shadows created by his sculpted torso. God, his forearms were nothing compared to the muscles across his chest.

Lifting her gaze a little higher, she saw his chiseled jaw, slightly darkened by five o’clock shadow. His eyes were at half mast as his nostrils flared. He was inhaling, his chest expanding as he clearly took in the scent of her. She’d started dabbing heavy amounts of sandalwood on her wrists ever since she’d noticed he took a deep breath whenever he was near her.

She didn’t speak. She couldn’t. He was lounging against the back panel watching her with a predatory expression. As if he’d been waiting for her. As if he’d known she was getting on the elevator right then and was daring her to step into his lair.

Karen’s words echoed in her mind. Just do it. Let yourself go for once in your life. Julie bit her lip. Could she? She had three weeks before she left Chicago for good. In three weeks, she would return to rural Nebraska and a wholly different life. Suddenly, three weeks felt like the perfect amount of time. Just enough time to revel in all her fantasies of the urban jungle. Three weeks to indulge however she wanted—passionately, frivolously, sexually—whatever she desired. Three weeks of time to be the wild woman she always pretended she was. After that, she would go home and start again.

All she had to do to begin was step through the door and let Elevator Man do whatever he wanted. Hell, she didn’t even need to wait for him. She could stop the elevator herself and let him know she was willing. That she’d wanted this for the last two months. Could she do it?

Yes. Tonight she was going to reset her qi because why the hell not? Tonight, she was going to do what she’d been fantasizing about for months.

With that thought in mind, she crossed the threshold. Then she did what she always did at the beginning of one of their encounters. She turned around to face the elevator doors, though her back prickled with awareness of him right behind her. She extended her hand and pushed the garage floor button.

The elevator hummed to life, the doors shutting slowly. But Julie didn’t let her hand drop away from the panel. Instead, her fingers hovered over the Stop button. Now, she told herself. Pull the Stop button now!

3

SAM FINN’S HEART—and dick—leaped forward, but he didn’t move off the elevator wall. He feared if he shifted at all, nothing would stop him from grabbing Miss Julie Thompson and dragging her back to his cave, so to speak. So he held himself still and gripped the railing until his hands hurt.

She had paused before strutting into the elevator, her pert chin lifted in challenge and her hips swaying slightly in anticipation. Was tonight the night? Finally? After months of foreplay, would he finally get up the nerve to push them to the next level?

Nearly two months ago, Sam had also stood at the back of an elevator while she sauntered in. Later, he learned what her name was. Later, he figured out that she was the owner and creative force behind Web Wit and Wonder. Later, he realized that she’d been in her “creative” mode, dressing and walking with a flair that he found especially sexy.

At the time, all he noticed was that she was a bright flash of yellow sundress, bouncy hair and strappy sandal attitude. All woman, very perky in all the best ways, and a night-and-day difference from the corporate stiffs he was about to face in his own boardroom. Then she had stuffed her delectable body close, he’d caught the exotic scent of sandalwood, and his dick had the normal, predictable reaction. He’d gotten a boner the size of the Sears Tower.

Nothing unusual there. Every male above the age of eleven had suffered through an embarrassing erection. But then she’d done the unthinkable. She’d pressed backward against him. Far from being shocked and repelled, she’d actually, swear to God, squeezed him. Well, that’s what his lower half believed. And then, while his brain was scrambling desperately to hold on to sanity, she had stepped away. Seconds later, she was off the elevator while he was harder than granite. He’d needed twenty minutes before he could face his employees.

It could have been an isolated incident, the kind of random thing that sometimes happened in a city the size of Chicago. It probably would have remained an isolated event if he weren’t owner of the office building in which they both worked.

But he did own the building and he had access to all sorts of interesting security devices. Nothing intrusive, but it took less than a minute to learn everything official about Miss Thompson and her ad agency. And given that this was a building outfitted with the latest and greatest technology of the time, he could easily tie its security feed to his own laptop. There was no surveillance within her office suite. That would be a breach of privacy. But in the hallway outside her door? Absolutely. He knew when she came and went from her office, he knew what she wore, and most importantly, when she would be heading for the elevator banks.

So the stalking began. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. Had her caress been a product of his fevered imagination? Or would she welcome more? Could such a beautiful woman really want his touch? He had to know if he was imagining her response or if she was just into kinky, anonymous sex play.

It took nearly a week, but he’d managed to arrange to be in another packed elevator with her. His heart had been beating triple time, but after a week of fruitless speculation, he’d had to put the question to the test. He’d reached for the elevator button by way of her breast.

He’d tried to be subtle. If she started screaming, he could pretend he’d stumbled, it was an accident … He had an entire litany of excuses ready. He’d extended his hand, brushed across her breast and then pushed the button. And damn if on the way back, she didn’t “accidentally” fall forward enough that he was nearly cupping her.

He’d almost collapsed. He had nearly convinced himself that she would scream bloody murder. That he’d be facing a sexual harassment lawsuit. But when none of that happened, his mind had simply shut down with shock. That, unfortunately, gave free rein to his inner stalker.

He’d never gone for emotionless sex before. Never had an interest in casual hook-ups. His life was his robotics company, and his women had been relationships. He never guessed that he would spend two months trying to find a way to have sex with a stranger in an elevator.

But maybe that was the point. Maybe he was ready for sex without pretense. Forget a meeting of minds and life goals. Julie Thompson was a bright splash of color in his very gray, very robotic world. Why couldn’t he walk on the wild side for a while? As long as she was willing, he was game.

And best of all, he made sure he only connected with her when he was in his coveralls. He’d be damned if he let another woman have “sex with the billionaire.” He hadn’t thought there were that many money-hungry groupies in the world. Certainly not those who would go for a boring, nearsighted, robotics geek. But experience had taught him to be extra cautious about his identity. So, if Miss Julie Thompson wanted hot elevator sex, she was going to get it with a maintenance guy, not a CEO.

So the stalking began in earnest. He watched when she came and left her work. It helped that she was as much a workaholic as he was. Their hours matched up nicely. Morning elevator mash-ups allowed for discreet fondling. And at night, when he was all alone in his bed, he played out scenarios that appalled his rational brain.

But that was fantasy, and he was beyond tired of playing by himself. Tonight, she was here alone and he was more than ready to take it to the next level.

She had turned her back on him with a sexy wiggle to her hips. The scent of sandalwood hit him and his blood went straight south. If he were sticking to his usual pattern, this was when he would come up behind her and begin fondling. Her ass, her hips, her breasts—didn’t matter. She was fantastic all around. Curvy, athletic without being obsessive, and just the right height for him, especially when she wore heels.

But this wasn’t going to be a usual elevator encounter. It was late at night, they were the last ones in the building, and he had control of the elevator thanks to a new app he’d just installed on his phone.

The elevator started moving and he could see her body change. Her purse slid down her shoulder to land by her feet on the floor. Her shoulders opened up and her chin lifted slightly. And best of all, her hand hovered over the Stop button. Right there was the invitation he needed. She wanted more, just like he did. Was she going to do it? Was she going to pull the button?

Yes! She popped it out and a split second later, he initiated the app on his phone. Right on cue, the elevator jerked to a stop between floors, its security camera turning off at the same time. She gasped and stumbled, clearly surprised by the lurch. He caught her before she fell backward. His thighs braced her legs, and his arms went around her body, one over her right shoulder, the other curving around her lower ribs. She wore a soft sweater top that tied on one side. If he slid his hand across her belly, he could have her top undone with a flick of his wrist.

“Are you all right?” he said, his voice low.

“Y-yes,” she stammered, turning her head. They were nearly nose to nose. He could smell the herbal scent to her hair and even his bad eyes could see the dark rich black of her eyelashes. “I, um, must have missed and hit the wrong button.”

“Nah. We’ve been working on the elevators,” he lied. “It’s been acting wonky all day.”

“Oh,” she said softly, as she lifted her face to his.

“That’s too bad.”

Now was the time, he told himself, and without thinking twice, he simply went for it.

SHE’D DONE IT. She’d stopped the elevator and now she had to follow through. She was trembling, her belly shivering where his hand held her so solidly. And his eyes were the most wonderful color of brown. A rich, dark chocolate that tempted her to dive right in and lap up all the goodness that he alone could give her.

His mouth touched hers, all warm and seductive. He brushed his lips across hers, teased her with his tongue.

“We’re in no danger,” he said, his voice a deep shiver across her skin. “I think I can start it up again,” he continued. And while his mouth continued to tease hers, his hand skated over her belly and tugged at the tie of her top.

She gasped. Her lips felt incredibly sensitive, but nothing could top the knowledge that he was starting to undress her. Was she really going to do this? His kiss deepened, his tongue thrusting into her mouth as she opened to him. And she felt the tie of her sweater pull loose.

She broke the kiss. Not because she wanted it to end, but because she needed air.

He pulled back enough to look into her eyes. She saw his question clear as day. Would she allow him to take it further? Did she want this? Karen’s “just go for it” words echoed in her mind.

Rather than answer, she stayed with the nonsensical chitchat. “I was working late. Big contract just fell through,” she said. Then she gasped as his hand worked between the loose folds of her top to touch her bare skin. His fingers were calloused, the texture as erotic as his slow slide across her belly.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“So am I.” She was still half reclined in his arms, and the position was a bit awkward. So she straightened, and he supported her, taking the opportunity to slide his other hand down from her shoulder to slip underneath the back of her top.

“I could call someone, if you like,” he said, his voice a heated brush against her ear. He was giving her the opportunity to say no, to end things right now. But she didn’t, firmly shaking her head.

“There’s no need to bother anyone else.”

As she moved, his hand on her belly flowed with her, rubbing across her abdomen, making her muscles tremble. And all the while, his other hand continued to whisper up her back to the clasp of her bra. She closed her eyes, her body tightening and her breath shallow.

“I’ll fix the elevator as soon as you want,” he said as he thumbed the catch on her bra. That was his way of telling her they could stop at any time.

“Not yet,” she whispered, stunned by her own audacity. She had just said it. She had just told him that she wanted more from him. And sure enough, he took the invitation, moving both hands around her until he cupped her breasts.

God, yes! His hands were so large, he easily surrounded her, and his callouses provided just the right friction as they slid across her skin. She felt her back arch and her head drop back. His body pressed up against her, his heat warming her back. She leaned into him, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. She wanted to touch him, to feel his muscular strength. Her hands were down by her sides, so she reached behind her to stroke his thighs. God, he felt good. His thighs were corded, powerful with almost no give.

“I’m Sam,” he said, his mouth against her ear.

Finally, she knew his name. “Julie,” she gasped, and the movement thrust her breasts deeper into his palms. He was kneading her flesh, rolling her nipples slowly between his fingers. She moaned softly, the sound rumbling through her body into his. He brushed his jaw across her temple.

“I love the way you smell,” he murmured. Then he shifted and nipped the curve of her ear. She shivered at the touch, surprised by the intensity of her reaction. Sex had never felt this way before, never this thrilling. Even more surprising was the way she reacted when he began to explore. It was as if her body had a whole new set of responses to his touch, and she was learning them at the same time he was.

When he squeezed her breasts, her breath eased and her skin heated. When he rolled her nipples, she moaned low and deep. But when he pinched them, especially when he accompanied that with a nip on her ear, she gasped and thrust backward against him. She didn’t control her reactions, didn’t know what was coming next. She just let herself feel while her body’s hunger grew and grew.

“You are so hot,” he said against her ear. She whimpered in response. One of his hands left her breast to brush down her belly. He paused with his fingers on the catch of her dress pants. “One look, and I can’t think of anything but this. You’ve been driving me insane for two months.”

Her breath shuttered to a stop, her mind making a desperate bid for sanity. He was going to open her pants, he was going to slide his fingers … Before she could finish the thought, he popped the button on her pants and slid down the zipper. She felt the rrrrr of the metal teeth as her trousers fell open and his fingers slid down over her thin panties.

She was so hot there and wet. And she couldn’t think beyond the pressure of his fingers and the desire to finally feel him inside her. This was just like her fantasies. Better even, because the heat between them was so much larger, so much more powerful than even she had dreamed.

Then he did it. He slid over her mons and thrust his finger between her folds. A second later he was pushing ever so slowly inside her. She felt surrounded by him, held in place and caressed in the most intimate ways.

He was supporting most of her weight as her body arched into his caress. He thrust deep, impaling her with precision, before slowly pulling out, the length of his finger rolling over her clit. Her legs trembled and weakened. She had nothing to hold on to. Her hands kept sliding over his thighs, but he was too large for her to grip with any strength. She felt suspended in pleasure, adrift in sensation as he pinched her nipple while thrusting back inside her.

Her muscles gripped him, and her breath came in short gasps. Her body shuddered, her mind too splintered from the sensations to do more than experience. He was toying with her nipple, lengthening, squeezing, even twisting. While below, his tempo began to increase.

Her belly began to tighten, and her heart was pounding in her ears. “Oh! Oh!” She was keening softly, her word more like a high gasp. He played her masterfully, bringing her to the edge then holding her off. God, she was so close! Just a little more, a little more, and yet she wanted it to last forever. And then she couldn’t stop. He thrust into her again and she met him, arching into his hand. And …

Yes!

4

JULIE FLOATED BACK FROM BLISS with a reluctant sigh. Which was rapidly followed by a burning flush of embarrassment. Was she really still standing? And had she really just let Elevator Man—Sam—finger her to orgasm?

His breathing was deep and even against her back. He was supporting her still, one hand on her hip, the other arm wrapped gently around her. God, he was so solid! She got the impression he could hold her like this all night if need be.

“Wow …” she began, unsure what to say. “What a great end to a sucky day.”

She felt his chuckle rumble through her spine. “Building maintenance is a service-oriented field.”

She laughed, really laughed at that. But there was only so much humor she could cling to before she became excruciatingly aware of her position. Shifting awkwardly, she reached down and pulled up her pants. He let her go, stepping back to a polite distance. She felt her face heat. Was there a polite distance after what they’d just done?

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “It, um, doesn’t have to end right now. We could go out for a drink. Have dinner—”

She abruptly spun around and pressed her fingers to his lips. “I can’t,” she said. “I mean …” What should she say? That she was leaving the state in three weeks? That there wasn’t time to build a relationship, so why start? “Oh, God, I’m horrible,” she murmured to herself.

He gently pulled her hand from his mouth. “Service-oriented industry, remember? Whatever you want is fine.”

“I doubt this was exactly what the janitor’s union had in mind,” she returned drily.

He let go of her hand to stroke her face. It was a soft caress with the pad of his thumb as he swept past her mouth up along her cheekbone. And damn if she didn’t lean into the caress because it was just so wonderful. She searched his expression, the warm chocolate of his eyes were completely open and non-judgmental.

“It doesn’t have to be dinner,” he said. “There’s coffee upstairs in the robotics lab. Or ice cream sundaes down the street.”

“I’m leaving,” she abruptly confessed. “The state. In three weeks. I don’t want to lie to you—”

He kissed her. It was swift, it was deep, and it was thrilling. His hands delved into her hair to cradle her head, his tongue thrust into her mouth. She arched into his attack, trying to tease him with her tongue, and loving that he took control. He was powerful, her Elevator Man, and she reveled in it.