Page 14 of Fauxmance in the City

In a swift movement, Sam scoops his hands under my thighs, lifting me off my feet, and presses me against the wall. My skirt bunches around my waist, my bag drops, and I gasp, gripping his shoulders for balance. My stomach plummets to the floor, and in its place is a frenzy of flapping wings.

God, he smells like sex in a bottle, all spicy and primal. I swallow, and the slight sound vibrates off the walls.

“Say it and I’ll stop right now.” His lips graze mine, his minty breath moist against my skin, weakening my resolve. I’m about to say the word and put an end to this diversion, but a burning need to gain control tightens in my chest, and I squeeze my thighs around his waist, my ankles locking behind his back, my hips crashing into his pelvis.

“Oh, fuck,” he grumbles against my neck, his knees faltering, before he slams his hand against the elevator wall, steadying us.

I tilt my hips, silently cheering, when I feel his hardened cock and hitch upward until I reach his tip. His joggers are thin, which leaves little fabric between us. I position my panty-clad sex over his swollen head and gravity takes over. I sink down until his tip spreads my lips apart, the material of his pants and my flimsy underwear shoving into me along with him.

“Oh God, baby.” His fingers dig into my ass, hauling me closer to him, my sex contracting around the small part of him that’s inside me. Fuck me, he feels good. Even with all the material, I could come in seconds.

My body screams at me as I lift myself up and off his tip. I’ve made my point.

I’m shaking, in shock that I just did that, but I keep it together, hiding from Sam how badly I want to continue. I slide down him until my toes touch the floor, and he exhales in stilted breaths, straining to get purchase. In two long strides, I’m on the other side of the car, and my skirt falls back to my knees.

A groan escapes his lips, his stare murderous. “What the hell was that?”

“That was me handling it,” I say.

The bell dings, and the elevator doors slide open. Patrick stands on the other side.

“Oh God, what did you do to him?” he asks. Sam is bent over, his face screwed up as he tries to calm his desire, which is on full display. “Are you guys playing weird sex games now?”

“Just showing him who’s boss.” I wink, grab my bag, and hurry down the hall.

Patrick scurries behind me, and Sam follows after him, staggering. With my back to them, I take a moment to mentally shake my arousal. It affected me way more than I want to admit. Damn. I need to get a grip.

“What’s wrong with you, Catie?” Patrick jokes from behind. “Father issues?”

“My dad died before he could do any damage,” I say, glancing over my shoulder.

Patrick’s ruddy cheeks pale.

“Don’t worry. It was a long time ago. This has nothing to do with daddy issues.”

“First love gone wrong?” Patrick tries again.

My heart seizes in my chest, but I force my feet to keep moving.

“Her heart’s a hot mess,” Sam says. “And her body’s a weapon of mass destruction.”

I reach the door to the test kitchen and turn around, pushing the door open with my butt. “Don’t act like you know anything about my heart.”

“I know a lot more than you think.” Sam raises his eyebrows, but he’s lost some of his fire after our tussle in the elevator.

He steps close and whispers, “And I know you were as turned on as me in that elevator. Your wetness stained my pants.”

I suck in a sharp breath and glance down, and sure enough, there’s a little damp spot next to his crotch. He smiles victoriously and pushes his way into the kitchen. Natalie’s hunched over a folder thick with recipes and notes, and Sam hugs her hello. A grin extends across her face as she melts into his embrace. Traitor.

“Have you narrowed down the menu?” Patrick asks.

Natalie opens the folder and shows Patrick several recipes. I motion for Sam to step away, remembering the call from Karen earlier. He eyes me warily, and I grab a white napkin and wave it in a truce.

“Can’t get enough,” Sam gloats.

My sex tingles, but I push my primal urges down and roll my eyes.

Real mature, Catie.

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