Page 17 of Ask for Moore
“Regents Dispatch, what’s your emergency?”
Waverly slumped against me as I replied, “Yes, hello. We’re stuck in the elevator in the county courthouse. We were headed from the third to first floors, and I believe we’re between the second and first. The lights are out, and the open and alarm buttons aren’t functioning.”
“Okay, sir. We’re going to get emergency personnel out there, okay?”
“Please tell them to hurry,” Waverly urged.
There was an edge of hysteria in her voice, and it finally dawned on me—Waverly was scared shitless. I didn’t want to draw attention to her fear since that might make it worse.
“Is anyone injured? Experiencing any health issues?” the operator asked.
When Waverly didn’t answer, I said, “No, there are two of us, and we weren’t hurt when the elevator stopped. But it’s pitch black in here, which isn’t the most pleasant experience.”
“I understand, sir. I’ll be sure to share that information with emergency personnel.”
I noticed that she didn’t say how long they’d be, but I didn’t draw attention to her omission. I didn’t want to add to Waverly’s anxiety. There wasn’t anything I could do to get us out of the elevator, but I could at least try to distract Waverly from her fear.
I set my briefcase on the floor and suggested, “How about we get comfortable?”
“Do you think it will take them a long time to rescue us?” Waverley's voice trembled at the end of her question, so I placed my hand on top of hers on my arm.
I didn’t want to lie to her, but I was careful with my words as I answered, “They'll probably send a crew from the fire station, but most of those guys are volunteers. I'm not sure how fast their response time is when there isn't an actual fire.”
“Just my luck,” she muttered. “I couldn't get stuck in an elevator in a town where the fire station was next door.”
“Maybe not,” I conceded. “But at least you have good company while you're in here, if I do say so myself.”
My self-deprecating quip earned me a soft laugh from Waverly. “I suppose you have a point there. At least I’m not alone. If you weren't in here with me, I’d probably be banging against the doors and screaming for help until I lost my voice.”
“You’ll be relieved to know that I take my role as your stranded elevator buddy seriously.” I patted her hand before tugging her purse and briefcase from her shoulder. “No need for you to hold these while we wait. And you might want to consider kicking off those killer heels that you're wearing.”
“You noticed my shoes?”
I had done a fuck of a lot more than notice them, but now wasn't the time to share with Waverly that I had pictured her pointy heels digging into my ass while I fucked her hard. She was already freaked out enough. I didn’t need her to feel as though she was unsafe with me in here. “They do amazing things for your legs, but they didn't look comfortable.”
“I spend more than half my day in heels like this, so I’m quite used to them. But you're probably right.” She let out an adorable huff of frustration. “We might as well get as comfortable as we can.”
“If it makes you feel better, I'm kicking off my shoes too,” I confessed.
“It actually does, thank you.” Waverly let go of my arm, and I heard a faint rustling noise. I realized she sat down when her voice came from the floor as she said, “I never thought I’d say this, but it’s a good thing the lights are out.”
“How come?” I asked, crouching low to take a seat as well.
“My…uh…skirt wasn’t designed with sprawling out on the ground in mind.”
I bit back a groan as my cock pressed against my zipper at the mental image I had of the soft, black material inching all the way up her creamy thighs. Before I acted on my urge to devour my opposing counsel, I murmured, “Burkhart made the right call switching to your firm for this case. My motion to dismiss would have been granted if Mike had still been representing him.”
“Mike?” she echoed.
I inched backward until my back hit the elevator car wall. “I spent ten years at Crock, Taylor, and Schmidt in Indianapolis.”
“Ahh, I see.” Her foot brushed against mine as she settled across from me. “I'm guessing Mike is the lawyer who represented Burkhart Development prior to me?”
“He is.”
“And you spoke with him about the case?”
She couldn’t see it, but my lips curved into a smile. “Am I being deposed, counselor?”
