Chapter 2 | Mr. Kilborne, I presume?-1
845 Words
Chapter 2 Mr. Kilborne, I presume?
Ines thought it was rather nice of Kilborne to let reception know she was coming. Encouraged, she felt some of her nervousness falling away as she walked to the elevator. Maybe by the time she met him, she'd be able to speak in complete sentences again.
Alone in the elevator, she used the scant time she had before she got to the 22nd floor to rehearse her pitch. She tried to, at least. She couldn't get past practicing her introduction.
“Mr. Kilborne, thank you for seeing me,” she said, nodding and smiling at an imaginary Jamie Kilborne.
She could see herself reflected on the polished walls of the elevator car. Too enthusiastic, she thought. Was it better to seem less needy?
"Mr. Kilborne." She let the corners of her mouth turn up a bit in a half-smile. "Thank you for seeing me."
Too stand-offish? she wondered.
The elevator doors opened.
She stepped out of the car, her heels clicking on the hardwood floors. Her jaw dropped as she surveyed the enormous living room. Daylight poured through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, illuminating the cream carpet and leather furniture. A steel spiral staircase in the corner led up to a loft. Imposing dark marble columns flanked the far corners of the space, right behind a twelve-seat dining room. There was a door on the side, leading to what looked like a library or office.
There was no one in sight.
“Mr. Kilborne?” she called out.
No answer.
It was quiet, but she could hear the straining of metal from somewhere outside. To her right, there was a glass sliding door opening to an outdoor space. Was he on the balcony?
“Hello?” She walked through the door. A few feet away a man was doing pull-ups on a bar, his back toward her.
His shirtless, sweaty, muscular back.
Grunting with effort, he lifted his body up and down with his arms. His movements were graceful, perfect. And in breathtaking slow motion, too.
Although on second thought, that may just be her.
She tried to find her voice, but it was lost somewhere between his narrow waist and the curve of his backside.
He let go of the bar and landed neatly on his feet. He grabbed a towel from a nearby table. Mopping his face, he turned to face her.
“Who are you?” he said.
The deep tones of his voice hit her somewhere in her core, and she felt her knees wobble under her.
“Mr. Kilborne,” she said breathlessly. “Uhm... Mr. Kilborne.” Oh s**t. Did she just repeat his name? Her brain functions seemed stuck.
His eyes narrowed as he looked her over. “How did you get up here?”
“I, uhm...” She took a step back as he moved closer. “I was... uh, told you were expecting me.”
He narrowed the distance between them in a matter of seconds, and soon he was disturbingly close. Her eyes fell lower to stare at his chest. In such proximity, she could see the fine dark blond hairs matted in a sheen of sweat. Mesmerized, she watched the rise and fall of his perfectly sculptured chest.
“Huh?” she said. Did he say something? It was a few seconds before it occurred to her that she was blatantly staring at his body, and her eyes shot upward to meet his gaze.
Kilborne's eyes burned with barely concealed annoyance. “I said...” He spoke slowly, as though explaining to a rather stupid child. “... there has been a misunderstanding.”
He smelled of sweat with a slight hint of aftershave. Her thighs pressed together involuntarily in a vain attempt to suppress the sudden dampness in her panties.
“Are you listening to me, Ms...”
“Andrada,” she said, feeling a wave of relief that she had discovered her voice. “Ines Andrada. But Mikey said —”
“Mikey,” he said, his voice thick with disdain, “was mistaken.”
He wrapped his fingers in a steel-like grip around her upper arm, cutting off any further argument.
For a moment she thought she saw his eyes darken and his gaze burn a path from her face down to the low neckline of her dress. She was suddenly very aware of how her breasts heaved with every breath she inhaled. He was pulling her dangerously closer. Her body ached with the promise of being pressed up against him, her n*****s stiffening against the hardness of his...
“Hey!” she cried out as he led her roughly by her arm back inside. “Mr. Kilborne, Mikey said you knew I was coming. I was supposed to give you—”
He smirked. “My apologies, Ms. Andrada, but I'm afraid I'm not interested in anything you have to give me.” He brought her to the elevator and pressed a button.
“I'm sorry. I thought you were okay with me coming to see you.” Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. Or could it be because he was still touching her? She wasn't sure. His hand was still firmly clamped on her arm, and his touch sent hot sparks up her spine. “Mr. Kilborne, I—”
“No apologies necessary, Ms. Andrada.” The elevator doors slid open silently, and he all but shoved her inside. “And tell Mikey I don't want him pulling a stunt like this ever again.”
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- Writer
