With Vance bitching for me to hurry up, I step inside. When Vance moves around my body, he freezes, and I bite back a grin. He’s teased me nonstop about me wanting to fuck Poppy, and now he gets to see why I want her so fucking bad. Her sweet scent fills my nostrils. She’s a ripe apple, begging for teeth to take a bite of her.
When Vance pushes into my back, forcing me toward her, I grunt and throw him a dirty look over my shoulder. “This is my best friend, Vance.” I nudge him in the ribs for rudely turning his back to her. His lack of manners catches me off guard, especially in front of someone like Poppy. I thought he’d be dripping his charm all over her, if for nothing else than to rile me up. He’s offered to fuck her for me countless times so he can describe in vivid detail what she tastes like, the fact that she works for me meaning nothing to him.
“I love your outfit,” she says to him, her voice warm and genuine, accompanied by a bright smile. However, her features are strained, like she’s trying to be happy but isn’t. When I look closer, I notice that her eyes are red-rimmed, making my stomach tighten with concern. Was this from her drinking? She was wasted on the phone call, or had she been crying? Is she okay, or do I need to kill someone?
Scanning down her cheeks to her pouty mouth and then to her neck, my dick twitches when I spot the marks coloring the skin there. I’d swear they were light friction marks from a collar or firm hand during rough fucking, if she wasn’t so innocent and her fiancé a waif of a man who would struggle to bruise a peach, let alone a woman.
“Thanks,” Vance replies through his mask. The bottom half is a long beard, the upper a devil-type mask that covers his eyes, complete with massive horns. His deep red jacket is open like mine, revealing his toned torso, peppered with purple bruises from the best fuck he’s ever had. His slacks hang low on his hips, and I see Poppy drop her eyes briefly to his crotch before sucking in her bottom lip and looking away. I place my fist to my mouth to stop from chuckling.
Vance, like me, is tall. He works out and has an aura that screamsI’m a good fuck. Women are constantly checking him out, and usually, he’s preening under their devotion until he has them on their knees, begging for him. It makes me wonder if he’s not paying her attention because he knows how much I want her and can't take her.
The elevator jolts before rising, making my stomach dip. I shouldn’t have drank before leaving the house.
“Oh, these are for you.” She shoves a glass jar at my chest, her eyelashes fluttering before she shrugs her shoulders. “I kinda stole them.” She places a finger to her puckered lips, blowing out a soft, “Shhhh.”
“Fucking hell,” Vance hisses under his breath.
“You got me candy.” Grinning like a Cheshire cat, I clutch the jar.
“Stoleyou candy.” she corrects as I notice a fancy hotel sticker on the jar. “Did Linda manage to finish decorating the tree?” she asks, her voice slightly shaky.
Cradling the jar, I roll my eyes, “She did, much to her frustration.” I reply, a teasing smirk tilting my lips. I wink down at Poppy, and her face lights up, blooming like a flower under the sun’s warm rays as she absorbs my attention. It makes me want to get her drunk on compliments and devotion, watch her blossom to her full potential.
A sudden kick to my shoe draws my eyes from Poppy’s lips to Vance’s devil horns. “Ow,” I scowl over my shoulder at him.
Vance grunts and shifts awkwardly next to me, his body tense and his gaze fixed on the elevator doors as he pushes the button for the thirty-sixth floor. “I don’t think we’re moving anymore.” He slams a palm against the control panel, as if he can will the elevator to move faster. Suddenly, it lurches, shuddering violently, and Poppy lets out a high-pitched screech.
We come to an abrupt halt, and the fluorescent lights blink out, plunging us into darkness. “Oh my god, what’s happening?” she gasps, her voice quivering with panic.
“It’s okay,” I try to reassure her, my own heart racing. I quickly pull my phone from my pocket, the screen’s blue glow illuminating our faces as I tap the flashlight feature. I shine the light on the panel, desperately searching for the emergency button and pressing it to call for help. A small, trembling hand curls around my arm, sending a jolt of protectiveness through me.
“I don’t like the dark,” she whispers, her breath coming in quick, shaky puffs. The urge to wrap her in my arms and comforther is overwhelming. It’s a shame that she doesn’t like the dark— it’s where I feel most at home.
“Here.” Vance hands her his phone with the flashlight glowing.
“Thank you.” She releases me and steps back, roaming the light around the small space as a voice comes through the speaker.
“There’s a power outage. Please bear with us while we try to get you out of there as soon as possible.”
“It’s fucking hot as hell in here,” Vance voices what I’m thinking as I yank down the fake beard and grab the Santa hat off my head, shoving them in my pocket before running a hand through my hair.
“This is just my luck. I must have really pissed someone off up there,” Poppy whines, pointing a finger upward.
“Or someone down there,” Vance pipes up, eliciting a laugh from Poppy’s lips. My rigid muscles loosen at the infectious sound, storing it in my memory for later.
“We’ll be out of here soon,”
I try to sound hopeful, but clearly, Vance can’t fucking help himself when he says, “Or we’ll plummet to our deaths.”
“What?” The light from the phone Poppy’s holding darts up to my face, stunning me.
“He’s joking.” I hold a hand out to stop her from blinding me.
“Is that a possibility? Oh god, I haven’t lived enough yet.” She clutches her neck, eyes wide as saucers. “One night does not count as a full life,” she mutters.
“Calm down, Poppy. We’ll be fine.”
“Oh god, oh god,” she cries. She’s spiraling, clutching her arms around her waist.
