“How am I supposed to get in to that? I need a ladder,” she exclaims eyes wide, slightly stunned.
“Don’t worry, Angel, I’ll take care of you,” he smiles with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
John presses a bill into the valets palm as he leads Elsie around to the passenger side of the truck and opens the door. Before she even realizes what he’s doing, he lifts her up, as if she weighs nothing and sets her in the seat, pulls the seatbelt over her lap, and straps her in.
“There, Dollface, exactly how I want you,” he teases her as his hand glides up her thigh before he closes the door.
Holy shit, what just happened? She wonders watching him as he walks around the front of the truck, to the driver’s side, to get in.
Closing the door, he buckles himself in, and before pulling out onto the street, he turns to Elsie and finds her watching him.
“Where do you live, Angel?” he asks softly.
“Do you know the fountain on Market, at the roundabout?” she asks still not believing that she’s in John Wolfe’s truck, and he’s taking her home.
“Yes,” he answers, looking at the petite fairy sitting next to him, as warmth fills him.
“I live in the apartment building right there,” she says the words, but it doesn’t seem like they’re coming from her.
She feels detached, as if she’s floating in some sort of warm fog. The attraction to John is making her high, seeping through her, igniting her insides. They are saying one thing with words, but something else entirely with their eyes and their bodies. He smiles gently at her before turning his eyes back to the road and pulls out into the late night city traffic.
It’s Friday night, Halloween, one of the biggest party nights of the year. There is a lot of traffic and even more people than usual, walking along the sidewalks. Their laughter and the sounds spilling out of the bars lining the streets along with the cars, the occasional clomp of horse’s hooves from the buggies and mounted police officers make up the music of tonight.
Looking for a parking space next to her building takes longer than the drive there.
“You could have just pulled up out front and dropped me off, John.”
“Nope, Angel, I’m walking you to your door,” he replies firmly.
Truth be told, Elsie is ecstatic about his chivalry, although she wouldn’t admit it to him or anyone else. She’s so excited, she’s got butterflies in her stomach.
John keeps his hand on Elsie’s back as they walk down the sidewalk to her building. The night is comfortable, there’s a bit of a mist in the air and it shrouds the moon. Off in the distance is the sound of a dog barking and the faint noises of the partyers and the downtown traffic. The street they’re on is quiet with not another soul to be seen, it’s just them in their private little bubble.
Turning the corner at her building, John takes the keys from Elsie and opens the lobby door.
“How long have you lived here?” he asks, as they walk to the elevator.
Elsie is unusually quiet, the butterflies in her stomach are turning to nervous jitters. If she didn’t know any better she’d think this was the first time she was ever alone with a man. But it’s not any man, it’s John Wolfe.
“About five years,” and she wonders if he can hear the slight quivering in her voice. What the hell is wrong with me? I never get nervous, she thinks to herself.
“So you like it here,” he continues. It’s a statement, not a question.
“I travel a lot for work. Being in a building like this makes it easier for neighbors to check on my place while I’m gone.”
The elevator dings, announcing its arrival, and the doors open. They enter and he keeps his hand on her back, holding her next to him. His scent, his body heat, all of him fills her senses and causes her nerve endings come alive.
“What floor, Angel?” His voice is gentle and controlled. She wonders if this man ever gets flustered.
“Fourth,” to her ears the word sounds like a croak.
John, unbelievably, is a bundle of nerves as well. A woman never affects him this way, but Elsie is no ordinary woman. She is vibrant, she is seductive, and she could be dangerous for him. The energy between them is intense. The hand on Elsie’s back opens, making her back arch as his fingers spread to cover the entirety of it, from the curve of her ass up to her shoulder blades. His hand slides slowly up and it takes all of Elsie’s willpower not to lean into him, and all of John’s not to pull her to him.
The doors open. Elsie takes a deep calming breath before exiting, and walks to the end of the hallway to her door. John still has her keys in his hand, and he looks at them trying to decide which one it might be. He chooses one.
“The next one,” she tells him, her voice so quiet it’s almost a whisper.
When he turns the key in the lock he hears the deadbolt click and the door gives with a slight push. John waits for Elsie to enter, and for an invitation.
“Come in,” she says nervously.
He slowly enters and pulls the door closed behind him. They are standing at the door. The apartment is dark except for the dim light coming from a lamp on the table next to the velvet sofa. It gives the room a soft romantic glow filling it with warmth. The rooms are filled with deep rich colors, and feminine touches, with pearls, velvet, and satin. John didn’t notice anything other than the silence, as his eyes were glued to Elsie. It was quiet, the noise of the city below them forgotten, the only sounds are their breathing and the whir of the refrigerator.
A smile lifts the corners
