“Clear my schedule,” I call over my shoulder. “Forty-eight hours at least.”
“Seventy-two,” Will corrects.
“Seventy-two hours,” I say. “Hold all contact. No one gets through to me. No one.” I dig my cell phone out of my purse as we reach the elevator doors, and toss it at Tina. “Have Reggie meet us at the service doors.”
“Reggie?” Will asks.
“Driver,” I clarify for him. To Tina: “The Bar-A contract is on my desk, signed. Get things in motion. If it needs my attention before we’re ready to leave my apartment, set it aside, figure it out yourself, or move on and we’ll come back to it.”
Like the genius PA she is, Tina is taking notes on a legal pad while she has her phone to her ear, giving instructions to my driver even as she nods to indicate to me that she’s listening.
“You’re out of contact for three days, boss?” Tina asks. “Totally incommunicado?”
It’s unheard of. I haven’t been out of touch for more than a few hours—the time in Colorado was the longest I’ve been away from my cell phone since I first got one as a teenager.
“At least three days,” I say; Will’s eyes bore into mine; the elevator is taking too damn long. “Minimum.”
Tina’s eyes can’t get much wider, but they do when the elevator door whooshes open and Will bodily tosses me backward onto the elevator and up against the back wall; his hands claw around my hips, and he sinks to his knees as the doors close.
“Ho-lyshiiiit,” I hear Tina drawl. “I want that.”
“No kidding,” I hear another female voice say, and then I’m distracted by Will’s hands shoving my skirt up around my knees, to my hips.
“Camera,” I mutter. “Elevator…there’s a security camera.”
“Don’t care,” Will snarls. “Need to taste you.”
“Button.” I reach out a trembling hand over his back, straining to find the button to get the elevator going. “Lobby…”
Will twists, sparing half a glance for the bank of buttons, stabs the L with a violent jab of his finger, and then turns back to me. “How long is the ride down?” he demands.
“Two minutes? Three?” I gasp, squeaking as he reaches up under my skirt to yank my panties down. “Ohhh, oh my god.
“Will it stop for anyone else?”
I can’t think straight. “Um. No.” I bury my fingers in his hair as he laps kisses against my inner thigh. “No! God, yes!”
“Which is it?” he snaps. “Yes or no?”
“No, this elevator is express, and only for this floor. Private elevator for my office.”
“Nice.” He pauses. Stares up at me. “You have two, maybe three minutes to come, then.”
And with that, he buries his mouth against my core, and I immediately cry out. “Ohhhh god, oh god. I don’t—oh, ohwow, oh Jesus, Will…” I gasp, swallow hard at the wild assault of his tongue, the fingers curling inside me to find me wet and slick and already clamping around him. “I won’t need anywhere near that—LONG OH MY FUCKING GOD!” I shout, suddenly unable to stop the scream as he does something with tongue and fingers that has me writhing against his face.
His stubble is so rough, so prickly, so delicious, and his tongue is so skilled, so wickedly talented at knowing exactly how to touch me and where, how to make me scream. Will’s hand covers my mouth.
“Hush, babe.”
“C-can’t—” I gasp.
“Try.”
The floors beep, a countdown to the seconds before the doors open in the busy lobby of Dad’s building. Some part of my head is automatically counting—twenty, nineteen, eighteen…thirteen, twelve, eleven—
His hand is callused and scratchy and huge, and I bite down as the climax slams through me. I writhe, knees giving out, but he’s there, catching me, holding me up and continuing to assault my spasming core with his thrashing tongue, pushing me to orgasm and beyond, lashing my clitoris even when I can only sit helplessly on his shoulders and face and shake, too far gone to even have a scream left in my lungs, and then, too, he doesn’t relent, until I feel another climax building, and the floors are beeping at six, five, four, three…and I come again, breathless, unable to scream or gasp or shake any harder—I’m quivering madly, mouth open, eyes closed, a whistle of a shriek emerging from my throat as I’m ravaged by his tongue and the shredding orgasms racking me, wave after wave after wave of wild onslaught.
Out of control, riding his face, grinding against him, fingers tearing at his hair, thighs squeezing his head.
