Going Down: The Elevator Series by Katherine Stevens Page A

laugh. He untied my wrap dress, and I said a silent prayer of thanks for Diane von Furstenberg’s contribution to fashion. Cole slid my panties down my legs, methodically kissing his way back up. “I pride myself in being very… very thorough.”
    I dug my hands into his hair, massaging his scalp. Cole paused in his ascent when he reached my bra. He pulled each cup down, taking time to lavish attention on my fully exposed breasts. “Speaking of thoroughness,” I half moaned. “Were you the one who synched my calendars to my phone yesterday?”
    Cole looked up from between my cleavage and smiled his patented disarming smile. “I did indeed.” He went back to the task at hand.
    I reached down for his belt buckle and asked between breaths, “When did you have time to do that?”
    He moved his concentration up to my neck. “In the afternoon, when I had you bent over your desk, if you must know. I’m a thorough multitasker.”
    His pants and boxer briefs pooled around his ankles, and I nudged him to lie on the credenza. “Damn, you’re gunning for employee of the month.” I awkwardly climbed on top of him and grimaced. “That looks uncomfortable. Are you going to be all right?”
    He slipped his arms around my back and pulled me closer. “I’ll suffer through it, trust me.”
    I nipped at his bottom lip. “Maybe I should put a couch in here,” I said absently.
    His hands slid up the back of my thighs, gently pulling me into alignment with him. “Brilliant. I’ll order one today, and you’ll have it tomorrow.”
    I stalled before lowing myself onto him. “I have to fill out a requisition form first. It will probably be a couple of weeks.”
    “Fuck that. I’ll fucking pay for it myself,” he growled.
    My delicate rose of delight must have had a thing for foul mouths, because I plunged down onto Cole before I registered my brain giving the order to do so. Mouths and hands were everywhere at once. There was no way I would last long at this angle. Not that I cared at that exact moment. Hell, I would probably cause Cole to slip a disk with the way I was riding him on this hard wooden surface.
    “Damn, baby this is amazing,” he moaned. “Fuck, yes.”
    My undoing was when he rolled my nipples. “Oh, yes! Oh, Ulysses S. Ass Slapping Grant!” He roughly pulled my hips forward, and found his release, cursing under his breath. I collapsed on his chest, wishing I could curl up there for a nap. It wasn’t until I heard voices on the other side of the door that I realized a nap would be inadvisable.
    “Ms. Carrington is right in here, Mr. Grantham. She’ll be so pleased to meet you.”
    Maggie.
    Cole and I jumped up simultaneously, only succeeding in cracking our skulls together. The Keystone Cops had nothing on us as we haphazardly tossed clothes back and forth. The thud of a small body colliding against the door caused us to freeze like deer in high beams.
    “That’s odd. I guess it’s locked,” Maggie said. She knocked ten times louder than she should’ve physically been capable of doing. “Cici, are you in there?”
    I’m so fucking dead.
    “I’m so fucking dead,” I whispered.
    Fabulous. My verbal filter has gone MIA again. I can’t imagine better timing.
    I smoothed out my dress and finger combed my hair. “Am I put back together?”
    Cole looked me up and down. “Yes, I think you’re good,” he whispered. He was on his hands and knees. “You have tiny arms. Do you think you can reach my shoe behind the credenza?”
    “How in the hell did you lose your shoe?”
    “Is that really an important question at this exact moment?” he whispered in a panic. “I only have one shoe right now, and this credenza is lined with granite, or something. I can’t move it.”
    “Cici, hello?” Maggie continued to thump at her barrier.
    I lay prone on the floor, reaching under the short legs of the infernal piece of furniture holding Cole’s shoe hostage. I was able to free it on my third