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"Since you saw me, you’ve wanted to find out how it would be to have sex with me?" He drops his nose to the hollow of my throat and nuzzles me there.

I shiver.

"Give me what I want."

I will not.

"Say it." His voice drops to a hush.

A thrill of anticipation heats my blood. Would he be as demanding in bed? Position me as he wants, push me until I give him what he needs, allow him to possess me, dominate me… The elevator lurches. His body bumps mine. Chest to hip to thigh. All of my senses focus in on him. My nerve endings pop. "Yes."

"Yes, what?"

The elevator moves up, "Let me go, the doors will be opening soon."

"Not until you complete your sentence."

"But."

"You have less than thirty seconds."

"Wait…"

"Twenty-eight"

"Fuck."

"Told ya already, that’s not on the table."

"Asshole."

"Fifteen seconds."

My heart rate ratchets up, heat flares between my thighs. OMG, I can’t be turned on. Surely not. The thought of the elevator doors opening and my being discovered, has a sick kind of appeal. The hell is wrong with me? Apparently, I enjoy being the object of his single-minded attention, something I haven’t been at the receiving end of with anyone, definitely not with my jerk of an ex either.

"Five…"

"No, of course not, you asshole."

"See, that wasn’t so difficult, huh?"

The elevator doors slide open. He peels himself off of me, steps back.

I break away, step out of the doors, which begin to close. I angle my body toward him, "Aren’t you coming?"

He yawns, leans a shoulder against the elevator walls, "This floor is for plebs."

I open and shut my mouth. Did he actually say that? The doors close.

I watch the floors scroll up on the elevator’s panel. It stops at the floor marked 'A.' Does that mean only assholes are allowed there? I snicker, then turn and march toward the reception desk.

"I am here for-"

"The pitch?" The sleekly coiffured woman behind the reception desk looks me up and down. What?Do you have to audition with your superiority complex to be hired here?

"No, the fork."

She blinks.