Page 40 of Kiss and Make Love

The Exhibitionist

The exhibitionist loves to flirt with shame.

-Mason Cooley

James touched me today. The guy in my building I’ve been swooning over for agestouchedme. I barely know him, but I know I liked it.

When I entered the elevator on the fifteenth floor, he lifted his head, and we locked eyes. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. The other three people in the lift faded away. We didn’t break our gaze until I turned to face the doors, giving him my back. His dominating presence filled the space behind me. Heat knotted in my stomach, spreading through my arms and into my face. Thank goodness he couldn’t see how red my cheeks were.

I have to admit, I’ve fantasized about James more than once on lonely nights in my studio apartment. His broad shoulders, his dark hair, his perfect jawline. Maybe he knocks on my door late at night for a cup of sugar, and I invite him in. He backs me against a wall and kisses his way up my neck. I ask him to join me in my bedroom to fix the ache between my thighs. The sugar was just a ploy, he admits, telling me he’s been wanting to fuck me since he first saw me. After entering my room, I relinquish control to him. He bosses me around, and I gladly do every dirty deed he demands.

Was it possible he knew how much I wanted him? We’ve had a casual hello in the lobby, a flirtatious wink by the mailboxes, and an appreciative glance when we see each other in the building. I swear there was a spark between us, that my hunger was mirrored in his eyes. But nothing serious or substantial had ever happened—until today.

The elevator came to a stop. Two more people stepped onto the elevator at floor thirteen. The residents shuffled to make room as I sidled backward, closer to James, pressed into the back corner of the elevator. The hair on my arms stood up, and I knew he must be watching me. I was infinitely glad he couldn’t see how flushed my chest was.

Another stop. Floor eleven. A woman I’d seen around the building a few times squeezed into the last bit of free room in the already cramped box, barking orders on her phone. The morning work rush was in full swing.

James’ hands seized my hips, and he pulled me against him. The air in my lungs caught, and I couldfeelhim. His hot breath tickled my neck, and I couldn’t ignore the unmistakable throbbing between my thighs. Surprised, I tipped my head back to look at his face. He smirked and tilted his chin up toward the doors, gesturing for me to keep my eyes forward. I obeyed. How did he know an assertive man was one of my weaknesses?

His right arm snaked around my waist, holding me close while his left hand slipped below the waistband of my skirt. I glanced around the elevator to make sure no one was watching, panic and desire rising in my chest.

I moved my purse to the center of my body, doing my best to disguise what was about to happen. The angry lady on the phone yelled about a misplaced order. James paused, just above the top of my thong, waiting for my permission. Already growing wet with anticipation, I made sure no one was looking and nodded. A low hum of approval sounded from his throat when I inched closer to him.

His hand slid down, and his fingers brushed inside my folds, gliding in circles on my clit as I stifled a moan. I bit the inside of my cheeks to silence my cry. The arm around my waist tightened, and I could hear his quiet breathing quicken. My panic evaporated, and pleasure flowed in its place. I allowed my eyes to close and kept my head down, my hair hiding my face. His dick was firm and pressed against my lower back. The familiar pull of my orgasm rose as he stroked and pressed on my clit, my body desperate for a release at his hands, lost in the moment.

The sharp chime of the elevator brought me to my senses. The doors opened as James skillfully removed his hand from between my thighs, releasing his arm around my waist at the same time.

We were already on the main floor? My pussy pulsed with need, and my face burned as residents flooded out into the lobby. Too stunned to move, I watched James follow suit with a quick wink over his shoulder.

What just happened? Sure, I didn’t get a release, but I wasn’t about to complain. The rush. The exhilaration. The riskiness of it all. He’d lit a fuse in me I didn't realize existed.

As I looked up and saw James exit the building, the elevator doors slid shut. A bashful beam spread across my already pink face, and I leaned against the wall and exhaled. He would be back for more. I could feel it.

Over the next week, I saw James a handful of times. We shared flirtatious, knowing looks when crossing paths in the building. At the mailboxes, he ran his fingers through my hair and whispered in my ear that he’d been thinking of me. In the lobby, he full-on kissed me in front of everyone coming and going. Nothing like what happened in the elevator, though. Nothing with the same amount of adrenaline.

God, it replays in my dreams every night. I desperately hoped it wasn’t a one-off. Every night, I closed my eyes and craved his touch. Mine isn’t enough, even though I stroke myself on repeat to the memory of his fingers.

Yesterday, he caught me as I left for work and asked me to come to his place tomorrow night for dinner. The way my heart almost leapt out of my chest as I accepted. Then he told me to take the stairs. If it were anyone else, I would’ve thought it a strange request, but he had a look in his hazel eyes that told me I should say yes.

Secretly, I wanted another repeat of the elevator. I wanted him to make a move where we could get caught. I would’ve said yes if he’d asked me to meet him on the freaking roof. So, taking the stairs? Yeah, I was going to do that, no problem.

I brushed my hair and left it down, adding in some loose curls. Some simple black eyeliner and mascara, a little clear lip gloss, and I was ready to go. I left the rest of my face fresh and bare.

Earlier, I’d selected an emerald slip dress to wear. Maybe it was a bit formal, but it hugged my hips just right. No shame in showing off my best assets. Not to mention how low-cut it was. So I wanted to get his attention—who wouldn’t?

I left my apartment and made my way to the stairwell. Would we have supper and that’s it tonight? Did he cook for me or order in? Did he want to touch me again like the first time? God, I hoped that was it. He could make me burnt macaroni, and I wouldn’t give a damn as long as his hands were on me at some point this evening.

I startled at the sight of James waiting for me on the landing of the sixteenth floor, leaning against the back wall.

A tailored black dress shirt hugged his chest, his dark hair was tousled, and his gaze was intent on mine. I raced up the final two steps. He grabbed a fistful of my dress and pulled me against him.

“I missed this soft skin. This red hair. This tight ass,” he whispered, his voice husky in my ear.

My nerve endings lit up at the sound of his voice. I breathed in the heady aroma of his aftershave—warm and rich like amber and polished leather.

“Have you been thinking about me?” he asked, running his nose up the side of my cheek.

“You’re all I can think about,” I murmured, transfixed by his confidence.

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