Chapter 11

Abby:

Paul sets me on my feet as he listens to Embry on the other end of the line, but his attention is still on my lips. I press my fingers to my mouth. My lips feel swollen and well-kissed.

“Is he on his way?” Paul asks. From the sounds of it, Embry must have found John, but I’m not ready to be done yet. I set a hand on Paul’s chest and skim my fingernails over the fabric of his shirt down to his waistband. His muscles tighten under my touch. When I get to his jeans, I press my palm against the bulge of his erection, and he sucks in a quiet breath and bites his lip, probably so he doesn’t groan in Embry’s ear. I move my hand up to his belt, and he swallows hard. Then into the phone, he asks, “Did he say how long?”

I can’t hear Embry’s response, but Paul’s answering expression tells me that we don’t have much time left alone before “help” arrives. Better make the most of it. I unbuckle his belt. His eyes widen in question, and I wink at him. I press my hands to his shoulders and urge him back against the wall behind him. Then I drop to my knees, flicking open the button on his jeans on my way down. I reach for his zipper slowly, giving him every opportunity to stop me, but he doesn’t. I pull the zip down and his cock springs free. He never was a fan of underwear.

“Shit,” he whispers when I wrap my hand around his erection. Then into the phone, “No, not you, sorry.”

I meet his gaze and lick my lips. He responds by thrusting into my fist with a shudder. Warmth pools between my legs as I dart my tongue out and lick him. His cock jumps against my tongue at the contact. When I place my lips over just the tip of him, Paul makes a choked noise and thrusts again. I bring my free hand up to press against his stomach, holding him in place as I slide him into my mouth. Paul makes a choked noise when his cock hits the back of my through, and I swallow around him.

“I need—Can I, mmph.”

I’m pretty sure Paul is trying to get off the phone with Embry but can’t quite get the words out. Each time he opens his mouth to try again, I swirl my tongue over him. Finally, he manages to say, “Gotta go.” He hangs up without waiting for a response and lets out a long low groan that borders on a growl. “Are you trying to kill me?” he asks me, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

I pull back and grin up at him. “How long till they rescue us?”

“Never, I hope,” he answers. Then he follows up. “John is on his way here now.”

At this news, I return my hand to his cock and give a few quick strokes. “Guess we better make it count.”

Paul sets a hand on mine, stilling me, even as he thrusts into my fist. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but we should stop.”

His words conjure an image of us the other night, of me ready to pleasure him and him turning me down. “Again?” I ask, my frustration evident in my tone. “Did you swear some weird no orgasm oath in the last three years or something? Or is it just with me?”

Paul looks down at me in surprise for a moment, then laughs. “Babe, I would love nothing more than to cum for you. I’m so turned on right now. But I meant it when I said John was on his way. And the last thing I want is for both of us to get fired because he caught us with our pants down.”

I relax a little with the knowledge that it has nothing to do with me, or us. “Well, technically, just you with your pants down. Mine are still right where they’re supposed to be.” I release Paul’s cock and rock back on my heels, push to my feet.

Paul grabs his erection and attempts to shove it back into his pants. “I would argue that I like your pants much better off your body.”

“I think we can probably make that happen.” I straighten my clothes while Paul zips his fly and pulls the hem of his shirt down in an attempt to cover his erection.

No sooner is he presentable again, than a clanging noise echoes through the metal elevator doors. “You guys okay in there?” John shouts.

“We’re okay,” Paul calls back.

“I’ve got maintenance here. We’ll have you out in a jiffy.”

Jiffy? I mouth the word to Paul, and he shrugs back at me.

True to John’s word, the maintenance guy has the doors pried open in just a few moments. The elevator isn’t quite to the second floor yet, so the two men have to reach down and lift me out by the arms. Once I’m out and on my feet, they do the same for Paul.

“Thanks, man.” Paul shakes the maintenance guy’s hand, then John’s.

“I’m just glad we were still around and you two didn’t have to spend the night in there,” John tells us.

“Definitely,” I agree. Not that I would have minded a little more time to finish what we started. I shoot a look at Paul, and his answering expression tells me he’s thinking the same thing.

John looks at his watch, then says, “You only have a couple hours left in your shift. Why don’t you guys go ahead and call it a day. After what you’ve been through, I’m sure you could use the break.”

Paul looks to me questioningly, and I nod.

“Thank you, sir,” he answers for both of us. “I’ll take Abby back to the office to log out.”

John pats Paul on the back as we pass him in aim of the stairs. “See you tomorrow, son. Good night, Abigail.”

“Night,” I answer and follow Paul into the stairwell. Our steps echo all the way down, and I avoid speaking until we exit on the ground floor in case our voices might carry back up and be overheard by John and the maintenance man.

Once we’re in open air again, I turn to Paul. “That was nice of him to give us the rest of the night off. I feel a little guilty letting him think being stuck in there was an ordeal when, really, we were…” I trail off and motion loosely in the direction of Paul’s fly.

He chuckles. “John is claustrophobic. I imagine he thinks it was an ordeal for us.”

“Makes sense.”

We walk in comfortable silence back to the Student Services building, and as if by unspoken agreement, we both pass right by the elevator and opt to take the stairs up to the security office. We make quick work of clocking out, and Paul waits at the door while I gather my purse from under John’s desk. Then we’re headed back down again.

In the relative privacy of the stairwell, I ask, “Want to finish what we started?”

“How is that even a question you have to ask?” Paul says in a husky voice, and then his lips are on mine and I’m wrapped in his arms.

He shifts our bodies until I’m braced against the wall with him surrounding me, then le places his hands under my ass and lifts me so I can wrap my legs around him. I lean into him hungrily, unable to get enough of his kiss, his touch. Paul rocks his hips, thrusting his erection against the place where our bodies connect.

“Have you been hard all this time?” I pant the question more than I speak it.

“I’ve been hard since the first day I saw you in the security office. God, Abs, you’re so fucking sexy.” Paul always had made me feel like the sexiest woman alive.

His hand slides under my shirt to cup my breast through my bra, and I arch my back, pressing myself into his caress and reveling in the pleasure signals it sends straight to my core. When he trails his kisses down my neck and lifts my shirt so he has access to my bra-covered breasts, I tip my head back and sigh with pleasure. And then my eyes land on a dark dome attached to the ceiling.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

Paul moans in response, likely assuming my curse was a good one caused by the attention he’s paying my nipple with his mouth right now. I wriggle, trying to get his attention, and he lets my nipple slip out of his mouth with a soft pop.

“Paul, cameras.”

He meets my gaze, and the haze of arousal is clouding his expression. I see the exact moment my words register though, because his expression clears, his eyes widen, and he drops my shirt like it’s on fire.

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” I answer. “Do you think they’re live?”

Paul sets me on my feet and backs away, adjust his clothes and his hard-on. “Probably.”

I giggle at the nervous way he keeps looking back up at the camera. “Come on, there are no cameras in my dorm room… unless you want there to be.”