by Ember Flint
Damn, her breaths are coming too fast and close to each other.
I need to calm her down a bit.
I grasp both of her trembling small hands in my much larger ones and stroke my thumbs over her delicate fingers gently. “Okay, Ivy. I’m going to teach you something that might help you a little before you pass out, alright?”
Ivy nods fervently and I can feel her pulse thumping wildly even in the back of her hands.
“I need you to focus on your breathing very closely, okay? Breathe in and out very slowly and fully about sixty times and try to keep your attention on the air as it gets into your lungs and then leaves them… you with me?”
She nods and puffs out her cheeks, starting to breathe more slowly in and out.
I look down at her, trying to make her face out in the darkness. “That’s it… now: clear your mind and stay focused on your breathing, Ivy… just… like… this… you’re doing great.”
I once more clutch her to my chest, trying to sync her breathing with mine.
It takes us a couple of minutes, but her shaking finally lets up a little and she’s taking full, calm breaths now.
She pulls away a little.
My eyes are getting used to the darkness and I can see she’s smiling a bit.
“Feel better?” I ask.
“Lots… what was that?”
“It’s called mindful breathing and can be a huge help when you have a panic attack.”
“Where did you learn that?”
I gulp, looking away as I feel the familiar surge of shame, but I push it down, remembering what has been drilled into me for years: there’s nothing to be ashamed of for being suffering the consequences of traumatic events. I can tell her. “In… in therapy. It’s… I… I’ve been struggling with PTSD and I’ve picked up a few techniques to deal with it over the years.”
“Because of your time in the Marines?” she asks, looking up at me with luminous eyes brimming with concern and tears.
I nod, giving her a tight smile. “How do you know about that?”
She looks down. “Office gossip… it must have been so terrible, I… —her voice catches— and… and here I am being all scared to be in this stupid elevator. I’m so sorry…”
I shake my head. “You have nothing to apologize for, Ivy, I mean it. And we’re going to be just fine, you’ll see. We’re going to get out of here in no time… now, let's get some light, I can’t even see you properly like this.”
I fish my phone out of my pocket and turn on the flashlight.
Ivy gulps and then looks down at her messenger bag, still hanging from her shoulder. She opens it and picks up her own phone. She turns on a flashlight app as well, but hers is multicolored and it makes me smile a little.
I move her backward until her back gently hits one of the walls. “Why don’t you sit down for a little?”
She nods mutely and just lets her body slide down until she’s sitting on the floor, her knees pulled up in front of her.
Her bright green eyes are normally large, but I’ve never seen them so wide, not even the night of the Christmas party when that sick bastard tried to get his dirty hands on what’s mine.
She must be really scared.
I touch her cheek to get her attention, trying very hard not to let the softness of her skin sidetrack me and she jumps, gasping.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, taking my hand away.
She shakes her head. “No, it’s… it’s not your fault. I’m just… just a little jumpy, I guess.”
I nod, giving her as much of a reassuring smile as I can muster. “I’m going to take a look at the panel, okay? See if I can do something…”
“Good idea,” she gives me a little smile in return, but her face is starkly pale and her hands are still shaking.
I huff, shining the phone’s flashlight over the panel and press the last button I saw light up before the blackout.
“Sometimes if you press the button of the floor you’re stuck at, it might unjam the doors,” I explain.
She’s breathing very fast again and I need to keep her focused on my voice before I lose her.
I push the seventh floor’s button once more, but nothing happens and then I press the emergency button, but I have little hope it’s going to work.
I flash the light sideways, in between the doors.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she asks.
I turn to smile at her. “I’m trying to see if we’re stuck in between or if the car actually stopped at a specific floor. Because if we’re on an actual floor, then I might be able to pry the doors open safely…”
She nods, hugging herself, head on her knees. “Can… can you see anything?”
I shake my head. “It’s too damn dark: I can’t tell for sure, Ivy…”
“Dammit,” she grumbles and then she gasps. “Oh! Sorry, Mr. Cox… I didn’t mean to swear.”
I chuckle, while I take a look at the stop button to see if it’s stuck, but it works just fine. Shit.
“Don’t sweat it. Chances are you’re going to hear me swear a blue streak before we get out of here, my sister tells me I’m worse than a sailor on his worst drunken day.”
She giggles and I smile at her.
Here goes nothing. “And call me Truman, please.”
I’ve already slipped and called her Ivy more than once: no point in denying myself the small pleasure of hearing my name fall from her pink, kissable lips.
I press each of the buttons, but it’s no use.
For some reason the emergency generator is not kicking-in, or maybe there’s electricity everywhere in the building and it’s just the lift that’s fucked-up.
“Did you try the emergency button with the tiny bell?” she asks.
I sigh. “Yes…”
I see her face fall and feel like I want to kick myself for disappointing her hopes, no matter how irrational it is. “Let me try again…”
I press the button once more, but nothing happens.
Fuck this.
I sift one hand through my hair. “Alright… let’s try with our phones,” I say and go take a seat near her; legs stretched in front of me.
“We’re calling 911?” she asks.
“Yes, but let’s try the reception desk first. The boys from security are around…”
She nods and I pick up the phone to try and place a call, but it doesn’t even ring.
“Fuck, my phone is out of range…”
Ivy looks at the screen of her cell and her eyes brim with tears again. “I have no signal as well…”
I feel like an invisible fist is clenching around my heart and before I can talk myself out of it, I pull her to my side, giving her a one-armed hug.
“It’s okay, Ivy. It doesn’t matter. Worst case scenario, we’ll end up being here for the night and we can talk, play some games on our phones, maybe you can draw something and then tomorrow—”
“Tomorrow is July 4th, Truman,” Ivy says, her voice croaky as she looks up at me.
I push her round glasses back on the bridge of her lovely little nose and then let my fingers stroke her soft coppery waves away from her stunning face.
I squeeze her tighter. “Yes, but my brother and sister will see I didn’t make it home and they will come looking, especially if they can’t get a hold of me over the phone. Don’t worry, okay? Everything is going to be fine…”
Fucking peachy.
If they don’t come and get us out of here, we’re facing a possible night-long stay in this box of steel with no water, no food, no bathroom and not even a working A/C system.
Of course, I’m not going to tell her this: no sense in worrying her pointlessly when we could very well end up being out of here in a matter of minutes.
She bites into her full lower lip.
“It’s fucking 95°F out there, Truman and this stupid lift is all steel: we’re going to boil in here. It… temperature could go easily ove
r 100 and we have no water, no sources of calories to keep us going and… and the oxygen could...”
I sigh as she starts to inhale and exhale at a worrisome rapid rate again.
So much for keeping her calm and in the dark, but I should have known her mind would immediately go there: she’s too smart for her own good and too damn scared.
I kiss the top of her head, caressing up and down her arms slowly and can’t help but get a whiff or her unique scent and fuck me: she’s not only so beautiful it’s fucking painful, she even smells wonderful: fresh, comforting and sweet like peaches and summer rain.
I feel a decided tug below the waist at her closeness and I fucking despise myself for it. This is so not the fucking time to get aroused.
“We have hours to go before worrying for something like that, Ivy, and as far as the oxygen’s supply goes, we’re never running out of it, don’t worry: there are vents in place just for this type of situations.”
Ivy takes a shaky breath. “Are you sure?” she asks in a little, squeaky voice.
I nod, hugging her closer to me. “I am. I promise: we’re going to be just fine, baby.”
It takes me a second to realize I’ve let the endearment actually escape my lips.
Shit. It’s only that I’m always calling her that in my head, it came out naturally.
She just looks up at me, eyes large, saying nothing and looking so fucking gorgeous it steals my breath.
I clear my throat, looking away.
I need to focus: no time for monkey business.
“Now… let’s see if we have a working 4G at least.”
I fiddle a little with my cell as Ivy does the same.
“I’m not getting anything,” she mutters after a while, slapping her phone over her knee as she also distends her legs in front of her.
I see her wraparound dress ride up and expose the creamy skin of her thighs and I immediately look away, once again directing my eyes to the screen of my phone.
The last thing we both need right now is for my dick to go full-mast.
“No luck with my cell either. I can’t even connect to the main wireless system…”
She sighs. “So it could be that there’s no electricity at all in the building?”
I nod. “Yeah, but it could also simply mean we can’t get a connection because we are in this stupid shitty metal box. Lifts tend to block that type of signals. I’m going to try and send a group text to my siblings and my cousins: it’s gonna be stuck in my outbox for now, but it will get sent immediately if my phone picks up a signal even for a second…”
Ivy smiles in between short breaths. “That’s a… a good idea. I’ll send one to my friend Ava.”
I can see she’s trying very hard not to panic and it breaks my heart.
“Good thinking. It’s better if we have more than one option.”
I quickly send out the text and then I take a look at my battery percentage. Twenty-nine.
Fucking hell.
I pull her even closer. “Ivy, baby… don’t panic, alright? I’m going to have to switch my flashlight off, okay? If I don’t: my battery will deplete much sooner and then there would be no way for this text to get delivered.”
She tenses all over.
“How much battery do you have?” I ask.
She hands me her phone without looking. Her cell is in an even worse place, sitting at twelve percent.
I kiss her temple, pulling her close again. “I’m afraid it will turn off soon, Ivy…”
She lets go of a long, ragged breath. “O-okay…”
I remember she never leaves her tablet behind. “What about your iPad?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “It doesn’t come with a flashlight and… and I actually forgot to charge it and I’ve been drawing on it for hours with the screen at full brightness.”
By the time she’s done talking, tears are rolling down her cheeks and she’s hyperventilating again.
“Baby, listen to me: everything is going to be alright, okay? Don’t you trust me to keep you safe? I’m the head honcho of security around here, after all,” I say, trying to lighten the mood as I grasp her shoulders.
She swallows hard. “I… I know I’m safe… but I’m scared. It’s… it’s stupid to be this scared when you know you’re safe, isn’t it?”
Her words are like a punch to the stomach. I understand only too well how she feels.
I move around her so she’s sitting between my legs and I can completely surround her with my body. “No, baby, it’s not stupid. If you’re afraid, you’re afraid: there’s nothing stupid about it. But listen to me: I want you to repeat to yourself that everything is going to be okay, nothing is going to happen to us.”
Ivy turns to look at me, eyes even wider and bright with tears, her breaths coming out in shallow, short pants and then she stands up abruptly.
“I… I know that, I do… b-but… I… I don’t want to be here, Truman; I feel like I can’t breathe… like… like the walls are closing in on me, like…”
She’s really getting a panic attack, shit.
If she doesn’t calm down a little, it’s gonna be impossible for me to reason with her and with this heat, hyperventilation is really going to put a strain on her resources.
I need to stop her and I do the first thing that comes to mind: I stand up as well and interrupt her mid-ramble by cupping her face and tilting it up as I plant my lips on hers and kiss her hard, fast and deep.
For a moment she just freezes in shock and then she whimpers into my mouth, her little tongue answering the twirling movements of my own and right then and there I fucking forget about everything that’s happening around us.
The world just falls away and I’m not kissing her to calm her down, we’re not trapped into this stupid elevator and there’s no reason for me to keep my love away from her: we’re just a man and his woman sharing a soul-burning kiss and I know I’m never going to be the same after tonight.
Ivy was already painfully entrenched into my heart, but now that I’m finally sampling the sweet taste of her lips in this mind-blowing kiss, I feel my love for her soaring even higher until there’s nothing but her in every inch of my mind and soul and in every drop of my blood.
I clutch her to me and pick her up, guiding her legs around my hips and then I move us backward until my back hits the wall.
I slide down, lowering us back to the floor and groaning in her mouth as she moans softly, her sweet voice going straight to my cock and hardening it further.
Now I have her in my lap, legs spread on either side of my body and dress up around her waist. My hands knead the hot, supple flesh of her bare thighs and her firm, curvaceous bottom as she grinds down onto my hardness and I feel pre-cum streaming all over my sensitive tip, painfully confined in the now too tight fabric of my slacks.
I feel my balls draw-up and I growl, biting her full lower lip as she rocks against me, my hands gripping her curvy hips just so I’m not tempted to rip her panties off and let her drive her naked cunt against my length.
Shit, I can feel her heat seep into me even through her panties and my slacks as she humps me wantonly, her back arching as the battery on her phone dies out on us, plunging the lift into total darkness.
Ivy doesn’t even notice, though; her hands gripping my shoulders desperately, her lower body pushing against my groin as she climbs to her release, pressing her large breasts against my chest.
If the idea of her coming apart on top of me as she rubs onto my cock could by any chance be not enough for me to lose it, there’s also the thought that she wants this, me, so much that she has completely forgotten about her fears, that nearly makes me cum on the spot.
I press her down even more on my rock-hard erection, breaking the kiss and making her moan my name softly as I start to trail my lips up and down the side of her slender, creamy neck; one hand moving between us and to her big, firm breasts, cupping and kneading them in t
urn while the other strokes her outer thigh.
Her softness feels so good and makes my cock jerk and throb achingly in my pants so fucking hard, it could be dangerous to my health.
And then all of a sudden, the lights are back on, the elevator’s doors are swooshing open and there’s a small crowd of people staring at us.
I scan them briefly, while Ivy gasps and hides her blushing face in the crook of my neck: a couple of firefighters, a cop, security guards, one member of our maintenance crew and oh… my cousin Jefferson standing there with his jaw on the floor.
Ivy pushes away from me, embarrassed and probably terrified by the intensity of my feelings for her.
She scampers backward and grabs her things, running out of the lift and down the hall before I even have time to sit up —so much for being trained to react immediately!— my cock is so hard and I’m breathing so rough and ragged I can barely stand.
Jefferson clears his throat, looking away from the huge hard-on tenting my pants and the other men do the same, all looking up and around: basically, anywhere but at me.
He gives me a little tight smile. “Well, I guess that’s a way to do it and it was about damn time, Truman.”
Chapter 4
IVY
I yawn, covering my mouth with the palm of my hand. I feel totally crappy right now.
Last night I didn’t sleep a wink. My brain just couldn’t turn off. As I lied in my tiny bed, staring up at the discolored ceiling of my room, everything kept replaying in front of my eyes.
How nervous I was about getting into the lift when the doors opened at my floor and I saw that Truman was inside, the ice that slithered over my heart at the way he ignored me, looking sternly above my head, the scare I got when the lift stopped and the lights went off and the confusion mixed with sweet relief I felt when Truman started to act just like he did in December: all caring and protective, actually asking me to call him by his first name and making sure I didn’t slip into a full-blown panic attack when he helped with my breathing.
The way I wanted to just burst into tears when he told me he’s been struggling with PTSD from his years in the Marines and then the pure excitement and frantic joy cursing through me when he grabbed me and kissed me; the way I lost control while we touched and rubbed against each other and finally the complete and utter embarrassment of being discovered by the company COO with my dress around my waist as I straddled his cousin and rocked on him like a wild cowgirl.
