Intimate (7 page)

Caleb chuckled
warmly. So warmly that Marissa got nice, fuzzy feelings in her belly and,
contrarily, moved closer to him, so that her shoulder was rubbing against his
arm.

It had been a
strange evening, but Caleb was her best friend.

The weirdness
was probably exaggerated in her mind.

“The elevator’s here,” Marissa
called out from around the corner. “Are you coming or not?”

Caleb, who had
been rehearsing with three friends for a private trio performance in a practice
room at the university, where two of them were grad students, rattled off a few
more suggestions to the others and then hurried down the hall to where Marissa
was holding the elevator.

She had
unexpectedly dropped by a few minutes ago to persuade him into going to lunch
with her. Since he hadn’t seen her since they’d gone to the club the previous
weekend, he’d stopped the rehearsal earlier than he’d planned.

Of course, he
hadn’t told her that he’d rearranged his entire schedule because of her casual
invitation.

Thoughts and
fantasies about her had been distracting him all week. She’d been busy with
another big paper for the last few days. Four and a half days, to be precise.
She’d called him a couple of times, but she’d been too absorbed to talk much.

He was finally
starting to get used to lusting after her constantly, but he hadn't expected—and
he really didn’t like—the fact that he’d missed her so much this week.

He’d gone weeks
without seeing her in the past, and he’d never missed her this much.

Caleb made sure
he wasn’t acting unusual as he stepped onto the elevator with Marissa. He’d
made a mistake last weekend at the club. He’d gotten too eager about the new
possibility of a different kind of relationship with her and had gotten ahead
of himself.

If he kept
acting different, though, he was going to spook Marissa instead of enticing
her.

And that would
end up being counter-productive.

He didn’t
really have much of a plan at this point. He was just absurdly glad to be with her
at all, after missing her all week.

She was looking
at him strangely, so he schooled his expression so he didn’t appear quite so
excited.

“What’s going
on with you?” she asked, taking a step closer.

Pushing the
button for the ground floor, Caleb avoided her eyes and tried to act bland.
“What do you mean?”

“You’re all
wound up about something. Do you have some sort of delicious scheme in the
works that you haven’t told me about?”

He smiled,
finally pulling himself together enough to say convincingly, “I’m just restless
today, and I’m glad you stopped by. I’ve been working hard this week, and I
needed the break. Besides, you’re the one who looks like she’s going to explode
with excitement.”

She laughed and
reached over to give him a hug. “I’m just really proud of my paper. I think it
might actually be publishable.”

Before he could
respond, the elevator stopped on the next floor down, and the doors slid open. Caleb
saw a crowd in the hallway and recognized them unmistakably as students.

A class must
have just gotten out.

He hated
crowded elevators.
Hated
them.

He was tempted
to get off and take the stairs instead, but the students started pushing their
way in before he could react, so he and Marissa ended up trapped in a corner.

While the
students laughed casually about the tight quarters, Caleb shifted so that the
front of his body wasn’t facing Marissa. His body seemed to be basically under
control today, but he wasn’t going to risk rubbing against her.

He was
strangely attuned to her, though. He could feel her breathing against his
shoulder blade.

It was only a
short distance to the ground floor. He could handle the crowded space, and it
was nice to be close to Marissa without worrying about her becoming suspicious.

When the
elevator was between the next two floors, it jerked suddenly to a stop.

The lights
flickered a few times, until they finally remained on, but the elevator didn’t
start to move again.

There were the
predictable groans and grumbles, and someone reached for the emergency phone to
call down for help. After a brief conversation, the girl informed everyone that
help was on its way and that there was nothing to worry about.

A relieved
murmur followed this announcement.

Caleb, however,
hadn’t said anything.

He was starting
to feel overly warm, and for once it wasn’t from being too close to Marissa. He
hated feeling trapped, closed in, claustrophobic—and this was starting to feel
like a nightmare.

The elevator
was too crowded for him to move around. He couldn’t get off. He couldn’t
breathe anything but hot, stale air. And it could continue like this
indefinitely.

He really
wanted to get out of there.

He controlled
his expression so no one would see his reaction. The students were talking, but
he didn’t hear anything but a low, annoying hum in the background.

His ears were
ringing painfully, and he was now slammed with waves of intense heat.

He wanted to
scream. Wanted to hit something. Wanted to claw his way through the floor.

Then he felt something
move against his back.

Marissa.
Pressing up against him from behind. He could feel her soft breasts pushing
into his back, and her hand slipped up to his shoulder.

It should have
made it worse—should have made him even more trapped to have someone that
close, when everyone else was already way too close.

But her quiet
presence actually helped.

He knew she
wasn’t making a sexual advance or initiating anything romantic. She had either
sensed how he was feeling and was trying to soothe him, or she was silently
seeking comfort and stability herself.

The situation
wasn’t exactly scary. It was just very, very unpleasant. At least, that was
what it should have been for anyone who wasn’t suffering from Caleb’s
irrational panic.

The feel of Marissa’s
body distracted him enough to push aside his response to being closed in. Deciding
it would be foolish to waste such an opportunity, he turned around to face her,
trying to fight through the cloud of dizziness and think of a smooth way to get
her to recognize their physical compatibility. Without frightening her away.

It was a very
tricky balancing act, and he wasn’t really in the mental condition to think
clearly.

He knew
something had happened when she was a kid that turned her off sex, but in every
other way she was healthy and had things together. If she would just open
herself up to the possibility, he thought she might give sex another chance.

Hopefully, with
him.

Marissa was
standing in the corner, so when he turned around he was blocking her from the
rest of the elevator. Her cheeks were red, and she hadn’t lowered her hand, so
now it rested on his chest.

“All right?” he
asked, in a voice so hushed no one else would have heard it.

She nodded,
smiling a little. “Yeah. You?”

Caleb tried not
to cringe and tried not to think about all of the other people imprisoning him
in this tiny, hot space. “Fine.”

“You sure? I
know you don’t like to feel trapped.”

He had no idea
how she knew that. He had certainly never shared his phobia with her. “Who
does?”

“No one,” she
agreed, stretching up so she could talk closer to his ear. “But some people like
it even less than others.”

She looked
concerned. About him. Which wouldn’t do at all.

“I’m fine,” he
insisted.

The students
were having a loud conversation about how and when they would be rescued.

At hearing the
talk, the panic returned in a rush. He really needed some space and fresh air.
He closed his eyes briefly and tried to process his reactions—tried to reason
himself out of his growing alarm.

He didn’t want
Marissa to see how panicked he was.

He knew she
liked to take care of people, but he would prefer to take care of her.

She rubbed his
chest gently, the sensation of her hand through his shirt pleasant and
soothing. He hoped she couldn’t feel his heart drumming painfully.

“Try to think
about something else,” she said. “If you pass out, you’ll smush me, and there’s
no room in here to lay you down.”

Caleb knew she
was using humor to distract him, but the evidence of her concern made his chest
hurt, made it feel like it was ruthlessly squeezed in a vice.

The hand on his
chest stopped moving. Then she pinched him hard on the sensitive flesh of his
lower side, causing him to grunt in surprise. “I mean it. Think about something
else. Fantasize about your next concert. Or your next fuck.”

“Marissa,” he
said, an edge of warning in his voice.

“I don’t care
what you think about. Just think about anything other than where you are now.”

She was right.
It was a good idea. He didn’t think he’d be able to do it, though.

She was
standing so close he could feel the warmth of her body, and occasionally her
breasts or hips would brush lightly against him.

He thought with
a sting of humiliation about his miserable failure last weekend at the club.
He’d genuinely thought that all she would need was a little push in the right
direction.

She had issues
about sex, but she’d also never had any good sexual experiences. He wanted to
give her that.

He knew how to
seduce women, but she hadn’t even known what he was trying to do. Since she was
smart and perceptive most of the time, he had to assume she didn’t recognize
his advances because she wasn’t interested in them.

She hadn’t
wanted him, so she hadn’t put the pieces together.

It wasn’t a
pleasant thought.

No one had not
wanted him before.

This was
working. He was thinking about something else, and it was distracting him from
the panic. If only he could think about something less painful.

Marissa had
reached up and was massaging the back of his neck, resting her cheek against
his shirt. It was intended as a comforting gesture, but it caused her whole
body to align with his.

He couldn’t
help but react to the delicious press of her body.

Fighting to
hold himself still and not slide his hands down to her ass and press her hips
closer, he breathed deeply.

He was getting
hard now—from the feel of her, the scent of her, the touch of her, the sweetness
and generosity that shaped everything she did.

Adjusting
slightly, he eased his pelvis away as much as he could.

She didn’t
resist the move, but she also didn’t stop massaging the back of his neck, as if
she could make things better just by the touch of her fingers.

She was always
trying to make things better for him. It was part of who she was.

A part of her
he wanted desperately, just as much as her lush little body.

The surge of
emotion didn’t distract him from his physical response, but rather heightened
it. He was really hard now and having trouble not acting on it.

He wanted to
push her back against the wall, rock his arousal into her. He wanted to make
her come with his hands, his mouth, his cock.

He closed his
eyes. Tried not to move. Tried not to breathe.

The elevator
started up again with another jerk, causing him to open his eyes.

“Thank God,” Marissa
said softly. “Are you all right? You kind of zoned out, and you got so tense.”

“Fine.”

He was
embarrassingly hard now. He turned his body strategically to make sure she
wouldn’t come into contact with it.

The other
people in the elevator were moving around in relief, and one of them
accidentally knocked against Caleb. He was pushed toward Marissa, but managed
to reach out and grab her by the shoulders, keeping her body safely away from
his.

So far, she had
no idea how aroused he was right now. Unless she brushed against him or stared
at his crotch, she would continue not to know.

She didn’t look
at his crotch. Just kept peering at his face.

Finally, the
elevator doors slid open on the ground floor. They had to wait until everyone
else got off, but then they were finally free.

He stepped off
quickly, sucking in a deep breath of fresh air.

But he wasn’t
safe yet. He was still in a very awkward physical condition.

He ducked into
the men’s restroom without explaining.

It was several
minutes before he came out again, feeling much more like himself and again
composed and controlled. The first thing he saw when he walked out was Marissa
seated on the floor in the hall, propped up against the wall across from him.

She smiled
cheerfully when she saw him. “All right?”

He returned her
smile, pleased that he could do so easily. “Just fine.”

She heaved
herself to her feet. Then she reached out and took hold of his shirt before he
could make his way to the door. “Seriously, Caleb. You scared the shit out of
me. You’re sure you’re all right?”

She
had
been
scared. Was still scared, if he could judge by the lingering anxiety in her
eyes. “Yes. It was just a random panic thing. Nothing to get worked up about.”

“I know you
have to be all stoic and unflinching, but there’s nothing wrong with telling me
how you feel. I won’t think less of you if you admit to not being fearless. And
it might have really helped. For a minute there back in the elevator, I thought
you were actually going to explode.”

Caleb choked on
an ironic laugh. He’d been pretty close to exploding—that was true—just not the
way she imagined.

“All better
now. Let’s go to lunch.”

Marissa nodded,
silently complying with the end of the conversation. She brushed at the back of
her pants. “Is there anything on my butt? I’m not sure that floor was entirely
clean.”

Since she
offered her ass up for his inspection, Caleb had no choice but to look. He
didn’t, however, allow his eyes to linger very long on the delicious curves.
“Your ass is fine.”