Page 12 of Kiss Kiss Bang
She took another deep breath. “Yes. Thank you.” But still she didn’t step away, and neither did he. “You smell nice,” she whispered against his neck. She wanted to pull down his white crisp tuxedo shirt and lick his neck—an urge she’d never ever had before.
“You smell better. And fuck, you look good. I know I said that already but it’s worth repeating. You sure you’re feeling better? It’s going to be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.” His voice came out hoarse and sexy as hell.
“I know. I don’t know why I know that, but I do.” Her fingers slipped under the collar of his tuxedo shirt and his skin felt so good against her fingers. Maybe it was the two flutes of champagne or maybe it was the fear making her delirious, or maybe it was the fact she hadn’t had sex in a long time . . . but she wanted this man so badly. They were pressed close together and she was about ninety-nine percent sure it had nothing to do with being in the confined space.
“I’m picking you up tomorrow at seven,” he said into her ear, his nose softly caressing her skin. “God, Livie,” he growled, “I know this isn’t the appropriate time and this may scare you off, but, fuck . . . fuck.” He growled again. “I’m so goddamn hard, right now. I want you so motherfucking much.”
And she knew exactly how he felt. And appropriate or not . . . the feeling was mutual. “I know what you mean,” she said, running her nails along his neck.
Suddenly, the elevator began to move again, but then it jolted to a stop, causing them to stumble. Luckily, he was holding her as his back hit the wall. “Is your heart beating like that because you’re scared?”
She looked up and there was no doubt in her mind that he could see the lust in her eyes as she moved her head up and down and licked her bottom lip. “Yes. But not because of the elevator.”
“Why, then?” He moved his nose up and down her cheekbone and then to her neck, which she blatantly gave him access to by lifting her head up. “Why are you scared?”
“Because now I am suddenly scared that this elevator will open and you won’t have the chance to kiss me.” She’d never, not ever, been that bold, but there was an air of lust and sex in that small enclosure that was making her heady.
And his lips crashed down on hers, his cock pressed against her as he pulled her firmly against him with one hand and ran his fingers into her hair with the other, directing her head to where he wanted it. She’d known last night that this man would dominate her, take control, and force her to stop thinking and succumb to her desires. And she had not been wrong.
She moaned into his mouth and he grunted, a noise she’d never heard before. It was passion and lust and suddenly she wanted to rip her dress and give him full access to her. He trailed his palm down her neck and roughly pulled her chiffon top down, causing one of her breasts to fall out. “You’re not the kind of woman you fuck in an elevator, but Jesus, I want to fuck you,” he admitted. She wished he would. “I at least have to taste you.” He roughly cupped her ass as he moved down and sucked her nipple into his mouth.
Oh. My. God.
Her head fell back against the elevator wall. He wasn’t soft or delicate. He was biting and sucking like he couldn’t get enough. The elevator filled with crude slurping noises from him and mewling noises from her. She wanted to stop him. She wanted to feel ashamed—because what the hell was she doing in a service elevator with a virtual stranger? But none of that happened. She felt good and wanton and . . .
“Oh God . . .”
Between nips and licks, he said, in a raspy, almost unrecognizable voice, “I need to be inside of you.”
“Yes,” she hissed, and he pinched her nipple, sending a ripple of pleasure down her. Then the lights flickered again and the elevator began to move. “Fuck!” he growled as he let her go and rubbed his hand down his face in frustration. “Fuck!” She ran her hand down her gown, deftly lifted its top, and he adjusted himself.
“I don’t think I can fix this,” he said, reaching up to try and restore her hair.
“It was a two-hour hairdo, I wouldn’t know how to fix it either. Does it look terrible?”
He ran his palms down her arms. “Terrible? No. Not terrible. More like you were mauled in the elevator.”
She almost said I wish I was. But instead she giggled. She’d never done anything like this before. “I can’t believe that just happened. We’re practically strangers.” She pressed her forehead against his chest and he kissed the top of her head.
“We’re not really strangers,” he said, as the elevator doors opened. “And if we had been, we’re not anymore.”
A man she didn’t know was there, waiting. “Car’s here. There’s paps everywhere,” he said, and Joey pulled her along behind the guy as they walked briskly down the corridor to the back entrance.
“That’s Ben. He’s one of my guys,” he explained, then spoke to Ben. “What happened?”
“Some of the crowd got inside. Just rowdy protestors trying to get to the president. Everything’s under control now, but probably best to leave.”
“Head down,” he said to Olivia as Ben opened the steel door leading to the street. Immediately she heard the snaps of the cameras and the roar of reporters shouting questions as the lights from the flashes blinded her. Without hesitation, Joey put his arm around her shoulder, tucked her close, and shuffled her into a black SUV.
“Are you okay, Ms. Russo?” When she looked up, she saw Tom, her shitty security guard, seated in the front seat with Jax, who was driving.
“Maybe next time a smoking break isn’t such a great idea,” Olivia said.
“You think?” Jax said.
“Buckle up,” Joey instructed as the car began to move.
“Tom, did you see Mark? Is he okay?”
