“We’re having coffee, Elliot,” I say. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
“Good.” I square my shoulders as I try to hold my smile; I like this game.
He steps forward and I step back, his hands above my head on the wall behind me. “You know, I could just hit the stop button . . . deliver your coffee right here.”
My eyes widen. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He chuckles as his lips take mine. “Oh, but I would.”
“Elliot,” I whisper.
The elevator dings as we reach our floor.
He smiles against my lips as the doors open. “Saved by the bell.” He bites my bottom lip and then takes me by the hand. We’ve arrived in what looks like a private reception area. A large, round table with a floral arrangement on it sits in the middle; a huge, abstract painting in reds and black is hanging on the wall. Elliot puts his hand over a scanner and the door clicks as the lock releases.
We walk in and my breath is instantly stolen. Glass from ceiling to floor, showcasing a magical city view, bright city lights twinkling in the distance. The ceiling is so high and I look up in awe; I see a grand staircase in the middle. “Your apartment is two levels.”
“Uh-huh,” he replies casually as he leads me into the kitchen, takes my coat, and sits me up on the countertop, then stands between my legs.
The kitchen is white and modern and I look around. “Wow . . . This is beautiful.”
“Who cares about my house, let’s talk about the coffee.” He bends and bites my bare shoulder.
I giggle. “Okay . . . we could do that.”
His eyes rise to mine. “How do you like it?” His hair is messed up and his eyes are wild.
“My coffee?”
“Yeah.” He smiles and drops his lips to my breast and nips me through my dress.
“Ow . . .” I giggle.
“Cappuccino, long white, short black . . .” He whispers as he goes through the options.
“Straight up sounds pretty good.”
He drags my hips toward him in one sharp movement, spreads my legs a little further, and slides his hands up my bare thighs. “Risky,” he murmurs as his eyes follow his hands.
“Risky?” I whisper as his thumbs dust my sex through my panties.
His eyes darken. “Easy to get injured with a straight up.”
We stare at each other as the air crackles between us. “Well, what do you suggest . . . to lessen the risk.”
His fingers move in a circle. “Sugar.”
“Sugar,” I whisper as his fingers slip under the leg of my panties; he circles them through my wet lips and my insides begin to quiver.
“Sugar always helps with a straight up.” He slides a finger in deep and we both inhale sharply as we stare at each other, his jaw ticking as he clenches it. “Especially if the cup is so tight and small.” He slides another finger in and we let out a collective gasp.
His lips take mine as he kisses me. My legs are wide and his strong fingers begin to work me.
With every lash of his tongue, his fingers get stronger and I can hardly keep my eyes open. The sound of my arousal sucking him in echoes around the room. “This is excellent coffee,” I whisper, my hands in his hair.
He smiles. “This is sugar . . . coffee . . .” His eyes flutter closed as he temporarily loses control. “Fuck. Coffee is close.”
“Percolated,” I breathe.