Page 15 of The Promise Of You

“You’re a bundle of nerves. You sure it’s the elevator?”

“Happens every time.”

“Shit,” he whispers. He turns me to face him and places my hand behind his neck. “Hang tight. I’m gonna change your mind about elevators.”

His nape is corded and warm, his fabulous hair brushing against my knuckles as his face slowly tilts down to meet mine. Between the warmth of his body and his scent of spice and soap, I’m a melting mess. Taking hold of my free wrist in a firm grasp, he brings it up above my head, against the mirror, and growls as my breasts brush against him. He ropes his other arm around my waist to pull me tight against him, his whole, strong, warm body encapsulating me, begging me to surrender my need for control.

“You’re safe with me,” he says and brushes his full lips against mine, sending fire through my core. Needing more of him, and needing it now, I lift a leg and twine it behind his, and his hand on my back slides down to my ass to give me a lift. I give into my instincts and rub myself against his muscular thigh. God, it feels so good. “That’s it, baby. I got you,” he whisper-growls. “You can let go with me.”

My tongue wets my lips, and a slow whimper forms in the back of my throat as he leans into me, his gaze narrowed on my mouth.

Nothing exists except the two of us, his desire throbbing against my belly, and our impending kiss.

Until the lights flicker and the cab hiccups and stops amidst the terrible sound of machinery going dead.

Then all I hear is faint beeping in the distance and the thump-thump-thump of my heart.

Darkness shrouds us, except for the emergency light.

He tilts his head up, giving it a few seconds. Then a few more. Then he gives me a quick squeeze to the waist and lets go of me to reach for the call button.

Everything around me starts to sway, nausea grips my stomach, and as my legs give out under me, I slump to the floor, my heart pumping to fly out of its cage. I close my eyes.

Breathe in. My mouth is like sandpaper.

Breathe out? I have no air.

I breathe in again. And again. Still no air.

Warmth spreads through my back as his voice echoes in my brain. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s gonna be alright.” He leans into my space, the warmth at my back registering as his hand stroking me. Two fingers gently pull my chin up. “Open your eyes. Come on. Please. We’re gonna be alright. I’m here. Come on. Open your eyes. Clover…”

My eyes fly open at his use of the nickname my grandmother gave me.

His worried eyes are locked on mine. “Hey. Welcome back.” His hand locks behind my nape, bringing our foreheads together. “You okay?” His voice sounds distant, unreal, but his breath on my mouth warms me.

Then he starts kneading my skull. Ohmygod. I’ve never felt anything like it. It’s like his fingers know exactly how much pressure to add and where. The effects spread to my entire being.

It’s divine.

Yes, I’m going to be okay. Just keep doing that.

After a while he moves to sit cross-legged on the floor, and I lose the connection to his hand. My breathing becomes more difficult. I lean my head against his chest, grabbing his shirt for purchase.

His voice rumbles softly under my ear. “Wow, wow, wow, come here.” He lifts me and plops me on his lap, cradling me.

“I’m s—sorry,” I whisper.

“Shhh.” He rocks me in his arms, his warmth enveloping me, his scent of spice and soap comforting, his slow heartbeat a rhythm mine tries to emulate. He drops a kiss on my hair.

I relax, just a bit. Open my eyes and fix my gaze to the point where his shirt is open, revealing tattooed skin.

We’re still in a tiny, locked space, suspended midair… oh god. God. I shut my eyes.

He gives my whole body a squeeze. “Hey, where’d your mind go just now.”

I move my tongue in my mouth to try and get everything to work. “Here. It’s right here,” I croak.

“Okay then, let’s talk about other things. Tell me about you.”

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