Riding Out the Storm

By: Emma Jay

A hungry sound came from the back of his throat and his kiss became more urgent, more demanding, tongue stroking, lips pulling, fingers twining in her hair. She answered the demand move for move—how awesome that she could read his intentions this soon in their relationship—but he still didn’t touch her where her body craved his touch, didn’t kiss her anywhere but her mouth. God, she’d forgotten how hot kissing could make her.

Just when she was about to grab his hands and put them on her ass, he lifted his head, breaking the kiss. His breathing was heavy, his eyes dark, but his willpower was apparently greater than hers. After a moment, during which she longed for him to kiss her again, he grinned.

“Think that’ll hold you until tonight?”

Her body screamed, “No!” but her mind savored the buzz flowing through her blood. Anticipation was an excellent drug.

“It might,” she replied, when she could trust her voice. “But I probably shouldn’t know you have a key to the supply room.”

“Our secret,” he said, reaching for the door handle.

Oh, she hoped so.


March 6

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: We have to stop meeting this way.


How did you know I’ve always had the elevator fantasy? Too bad Mr. Strait was in the lobby when we got off. You looked very thoroughly kissed. And you blushed. Drove me out of my mind.



Jill blushed again, reading Ethan’s email. He’d been waiting for her in the lobby when she arrived at work, holding a coffee carrier and a small paper bag from her favorite bakery. She hadn’t seen him in a whole seven hours, so when the elevator door had opened, and no one else had joined them, well…

His hands had been occupied, so she was more than happy to do all the work, pressing him into the corner, sliding up his body to capture his mouth, her hands trailing down his chest to tease his erection through his slacks.

Last night had been the first time she’d touched him, stroking him just enough to make them both crazy before he’d pushed her hand away and said good night. He was being very patient with her, understanding that she wanted to wait to make love until the one-year anniversary of her celibacy. She wasn’t sure he knew just why she’d decided to be celibate for a year, but he hadn’t questioned her.

She’d fully intended to get him off last night, but he hadn’t wanted that.

“When I come, you’re coming with me,” he’d said against her mouth, his fingers strong around her wrist, stopping her movement.

But she couldn’t resist teasing him just a bit in the elevator, when he couldn’t do anything to stop her unless he wanted to spill the coffee.

And then the elevator had stopped. She barely had time to extricate herself before the doors opened and they were face to face with their boss, Mr. Strait.

Who ended up with her coffee because she’d panicked and thrust it at him, hoping to throw off his suspicion.

It didn’t matter. She and Ethan had another date tonight.


The Spanish music piped in overhead was loud enough to discourage eavesdropping, but not so loud Ethan couldn’t hear Jill as they sat together in a high-backed booth at his favorite Mexican restaurant. She was always gorgeous in her work clothes, but tonight she wore a peasant blouse that kept slipping off her shoulder, and while it hid her curves, it also promised easy access. And her golden blonde hair, usually twisted up and pinned at the back of her head, fell loosely about her shoulders, framing that girl-next-door face that hid the playful, sexy woman he’d discovered the past few weeks.

He would be almost satisfied to look at her all night. She took a swig of beer from her long-necked bottle and he watched the movement of her throat. Almost.

“So, this celibacy thing.” Ethan took her hand and turned it palm up. “What’s going on with that?”

Jill’s gaze fell to watch his fingers tracing circles on the inside of her wrist and her lips parted, just a little. “What, do you mean why am I doing it?”

“Sure. I mean, I was celibate for a year, but I was married.” And hadn’t that been the longest year of his life? He’d done everything he could think of to try to revitalize their sex life, but had lost Kit anyway. He snorted a laugh and lifted his own beer. “Once the divorce was final, I waited a few months, found someone else, but that didn’t work out. So I can’t imagine choosing celibacy, you know?”

“A year ago, that touch wouldn’t have turned me on.” She motioned to his casual caress on her wrist. “I needed to go to extreme measures to get turned on, to get off. I was going out with Zach Purser and we were—adventurous, I guess you’d say.”

His lips thinned. He knew Zach—and liked him—but the man had a reputation as a man-whore. The fact that he could picture Zach and Jill together too easily didn’t sit well with him. “Zach Purser. From work.”

She stiffened at his reaction and withdrew her arm, squaring her shoulders. “We dated a couple of months. Well, were lovers a couple of months. Is that—a problem for you?”