What Goes Up

What Goes Up

Celia Kyle

Published: 2011

ISBN: 978-1-936950-44-7

Published by Summerhouse Publishing. Copyright, Celia
Kyle. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected
under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any
unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part
of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,
or by any information storage and retrieval system without express
written permission from the author.

Summerhouse Publishing

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Cover Artist

Celia Kyle

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents
and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are
not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or
persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

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To Mr. Kyle for his unwavering support and for being
the best real life hero a woman could ask for.

Chapter One

New Disc

She needed theme music. Something like “Mission
Impossible” but with a bit more sex appeal. That thought came to
Ashley as she tugged on the belt of her black trench coat for the
thousandth time. Nothing she could do about it now, though. Any
second, the elevator would begin its nightly climb to the thirtieth
floor, bigwig central. It would pick up its lone occupant for the
evening and then begin its descent to the first floor.
Because
what goes up must come down
. Of course, on its way down, it
would pick up one additional passenger.

The LCD panel above the elevator doors came to life,
slowly rising in number as the metal box made its ascent along the
shaft. Her phone buzzed against her hip and she pressed the Talk
button on her Bluetooth headset.

“Hello?” Ashley didn’t know why, but she whispered.
It wasn’t like anyone
else
was in the building this late at
night. Well, anyone but her, the man about to enter the elevator,
and Marlon.

“It’s going up.” Marlon, the building security
guard, had a penchant for stating the obvious.

“Yes, I can see that. Is our deal still in place?”
She needed to make sure, doubly sure, he’d taken care of everything
and wouldn’t allow her to be interrupted. Tonight was too important
for the aging man to suddenly gain a conscience or simply forget to
turn the elevator alarm off so that it didn’t notify emergency
services. She really didn’t want to explain her outfit to some
fireman or police officer. Really.

“Yep, long as you’ve got a place for me come the end
of the year.”

“I do.” The bribe hadn’t been a difficult one to
agree to, but she’d make sure he got what he wanted, without
fail.

“Then I don’t believe there will be a problem for
you this evening, Miss Ashley.”

“Excellent. Thank you, Marlon.” She pushed the
button again, disconnecting the call. During their brief chat, the
elevator had continuously been rising, passing floor after
floor.

The red numbers taunted her as they switched from
one number to another. As the elevator rose in its shaft, the bile
in her stomach rose toward the back of her throat. Nerves caused
the muscles of her abdomen to twitch and her belly to churn. Maybe
it had all been a mistake.
No
. She wouldn’t back out now.
Not after all the preparation she’d gone through.

Enough was enough. Trevor had brought this all on
himself, and she wasn’t about to let him get away with what he’d
done. She’d tried to be the sweet, submissive girlfriend and where
the hell had that gotten her? Thrown to the curb. Now, she’d get
her way and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. At least,
not while they were in the elevator.

The red lights showed the number thirty and Ashley’s
heart stopped. The elevator would be descending soon. Any second
now it would begin its way back to the lobby. Taking a deep breath,
she pushed the Down button and waited. Ashley had plotted, planned,
followed, and bribed people, okay,
a person
, for this
chance. There was no going back now.

Ashley pulled at the belt of her jacket, sliding one
end through the other as she untied the slipknot. She brushed the
belt ends aside and worked at the buttons, sliding them through the
holes with increasing speed as the elevator approached her
floor.

She let the coat slip from her shoulders, and the
fabric skimmed her arms as it fell toward the floor and pooled at
her feet. She hoped Marlon would remember to pick it up during his
rounds and keep it safe for her. The red LCD lights continued to
count down from thirty.

Twenty-nine…twenty-eight…twenty-seven…
One more
floor
.

The soft
ding
signaling the elevator’s
arrival echoed in the tile lined foyer of the twenty-sixth floor,
but she ignored the sound. Seconds ticked by as she waited for the
elevator to settle and open its doors. Her heart rate increased
with each passing moment until she felt her heart would burst from
her chest, and she thought it’d simply stop from overexertion
before she got a chance to finish what she’d started. Then…then the
elevator doors did what she’d been waiting for. They opened.

Trevor stood in the center of the elevator dressed
in his typical business suit with perfectly pressed, exorbitantly
expensive shirt and tie. He held his jacket at his side with his
fingertips, leaving his upper body clad only in his dress shirt.
With his promotion, he’d upgraded to Armani. And true to form, he
didn’t carry a briefcase as work was best done in an office and
never at home.

She made a note to tear the thing from his body,
popping off each and every twenty-dollar button she could find. Of
course, tearing the clothes from his back meant she’d get an eyeful
of his body. Not that she was complaining, of course. With lightly
tanned skin stretched over each rippling muscle, she’d be the last
woman to complain at having to stare at his bare chest and six-pack
abs.

His six pack led to his trim waist and in the front,
those lickable lines on his hips. In the back, an ass she couldn’t
wait to nibble…and bounce a quarter off of just to see if she
could. His legs were long, equally muscled, and also wrapped in
Armani. Scissors. She was sure the expensive tailored wool suit
would melt away like butter beneath a hot knife with her newly
sharpened safety scissors. That thought alone almost made her
smile.

The epitome of a man on the rise stood before her,
and her knees shook as the enormity of what she was about to do
landed on her shoulders like a grand piano. In fact, if she
listened hard enough, she was sure she could hear Jerry Lee Lewis’s
“Great Balls of Fire” echoing from the imaginary keys.

But fear had no place here. Nor did second guesses.
She’d started on this path the moment she had promised Marlon a
place at her Thanksgiving table later this year along with the rest
of her family, and she wasn’t going to back down now. She’d cajoled
the old man until he finally agreed to her plan in exchange for
spending time with her. Marlon just liked having a friend, and if
it got him to do as she asked, she wouldn’t tell him that she’d
planned on inviting him anyway. The old man was taking a risk. She
couldn’t tuck tail and run now.

On shaky legs, she strode forward, four-inch
stilettos colliding with the marble floor in loud clicks as she
approached the open doors. Trevor still hadn’t said a word. His
eyes had stretched so wide she could clearly see the whites from
five feet away, and his mouth hung open as if he were a toddler
waiting to be fed. She wasn’t surprised. He was seeing a new side
of her now and he seemed at a loss for words.
Good
. The
success of her plan hinged on him staying off-balance.

Ashley stepped over the threshold and didn’t stop
moving forward into the elevator until mere inches separated her
from Trevor. His eyes seemed glued to her cleavage and she knew
she’d captured his interest. Now, she just needed to capture
him
.

The soft
whoosh
of the doors closing
interrupted her thoughts on what was to come and she simply stood
there, stock still as she waited for the right moment. After a few
seconds, she eased her hand over the buttons on the elevator
control panel. From the corner of her eye, she spotted the bright
red button she searched for. With the tiniest bit of pressure, she
pushed the button and the elevator jolted to a stop, sending her
teetering back against the doors. They stared at one another, he in
shock and her in expectation.

What would he do?

*

What the
fuck
was he going to do? Trevor
stared at his fucking, walking wet dream and tried to snap back to
reality, only to realize
this was
reality. He was truly
stuck in an elevator with his ex-but-he-wished-she-wasn’t
girlfriend, Ashley. Not only were they stuck in the small space,
but she was dressed in the sexiest outfit he’d ever seen her wear
in the years he’d known her or six months they’d dated. Hell, all
of his fantasies and their role-playing had never conjured
this
.

Ashley’s long blonde curls were pulled into a tight
ponytail. Instead of relying on her natural beauty as she usually
did, her eyes were accented by a thin line of black eyeliner and
her lips… Damn, he loved those lips… Her lips were covered in
bright red lipstick. What he wouldn’t give to have them on his cock
right now.

Trevor shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking
anything about Ashley
or
his cock. He’d broken up with her
months ago for
both
their benefits. What the hell was she
doing?

More importantly, why the hell had she decided to
encase her curves in leather, lace, and thigh-high boots? Lord, he
really would lose his load in his pants. Damn. He hadn’t done that
since his teens.

Trevor took a closer look at his one-time love and
his dick throbbed in his slacks. Her breasts, large and pale, were
encased in a black leather corset. Laced tightly around her
abdomen, it pushed the luscious mounds high so they almost spilled
from the cups. He wanted to bury his face between them, licking one
side and then the other before capturing her nipples. And he
remembered exactly how much her nipples enjoyed his mouth.
A
lot
. Then he’d toy with the nubs and slip tiny clamps on the
hardened bits of flesh, just the way she liked.

The corset accentuated her waist and the flare of
her wide hips. How he loved to pound her from behind, gripping her
hips and smacking her ass as he fucked her. His now erect cock
jerked at the memory. Lace panties shielded the juncture of her
thighs from his view, but he imagined she still kept her lower
curls trimmed short.
Memories
…

Then her legs, ah, her legs were tied into
thigh-high boots with the highest heels he’d ever seen. His Ashley
had a great set of legs, too. Curvy and lush, but still toned. When
she wrapped them around his waist, he never once thought of her as
anything other than strong and fit, regardless of the extra cushion
she carried. Without it, she’d be a thin stick, and he loved every
single curve she carried. Well, only if every curve she carried
wasn’t
standing in front of him dressed only in leather,
lace, and a smile.