Chapter 8 - Trapped in the Private Elevator: The Night the Lines Completely Blurred
The following Monday evening, a severe thunderstorm battered downtown Chicago.
Sheets of rain slammed against the glass tower of Reed Global, and the executive
floor had emptied out hours ago.
Graham and I stepped into the private executive elevator at 8:30 PM after
finishing an emergency audit of the European accounts. As the doors slid shut,
the lights flickered violently.
A loud mechanical groan shuddered through the shaft, followed by the screech of
metal brakes.
The elevator lurched violently, dropping three feet before grinding to a dead
halt between the 42nd and 41st floors.
The main lights instantly died, plunging the small brass cabin into darkness
before the dim red emergency lights flickered to life.
“Graham!” I gasped, losing my balance.
Graham’s arms were around me in an instant, catching me before I hit the floor
and pulling me securely against his chest. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Avery.
Don’t move.”
His voice was steady, but I could hear the rapid thrum of his pulse against my
cheek. He reached over with one hand and pressed the emergency intercom button.
Nothing happened. The line was dead.
“The main power grid took a direct lightning strike,” Graham muttered, checking
his phone. “No signal inside the shaft. The auxiliary generators will kick in
within twenty minutes.”
I stood pressed against him in the narrow, dim red light of the cabin. The storm
raged outside the concrete shaft, but inside the elevator, the world had shrunk
down to just the two of us.
I looked up at him. His tie was loosened, his collar unbuttoned, and his eyes
were dark with an intensity that made the small cabin feel overwhelmingly hot.
“Avery,” he whispered, his thumb lightly tracing the curve of my lower lip. “If
we stay like this… I’m going to lose my control.”
“Who said I wanted you to keep it?” I answered, my voice barely above a whisper.
Graham groaned, a sound that was pure surrender, and crushed his mouth down onto
mine.
The kiss was desperate, hungry, and full of the raw desire we had been denying
for months. He lifted me effortlessly, sitting me on the handrail of the
elevator, his hands gripping my hips as he pulled me flush against his body. I
wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my hands in his thick hair, matching
his feverish intensity.
Every boundary, every rule, every lie of our fake marriage evaporated into the
heat of that elevator cabin. There was no Marcus, no board of directors, no
ten-million-dollar contract. There was only Graham, claiming my mouth with a
passion that took my breath away.
When the emergency power suddenly surged and the bright overhead lights
flickered back on, Graham slowly pulled back, his forehead resting against mine,
both of us breathless.
May you like
“That wasn't for the board,” Graham whispered, his eyes blazing into mine.
“I know,” I breathed, resting my hand against his cheek. “That was for us.”
