Cat and Mouse
984 Words
The elevator doors slide shut, trapping you with him.
Liam Cole leans against the mirrored wall, tie perfectly knotted, eyes like a storm. The scent of his cologne—smoke and citrus—floods the cramped space. You jab the button for the 30th floor. *Too slowly.* The numbers climb, and his silence is a live wire.
“Late night?” he drawls, nodding at your coffee. His voice is a blade sheathed in silk.
You sip the bitter brew, refusing to flinch. “Not all of us need beauty sleep to compensate for a personality deficit.”
He barks a laugh, sharp and unexpected. “You’re *charming* before caffeine. Noted.” His gaze drags down your pencil skirt, lingering on the slit at your thigh. “Though I’d argue you’re overdressed for a war.”
The elevator stutters. Halts.
The lights flicker.
You slam the emergency button, panic rising. “You’ve got to be joking.”
Ethan doesn’t move. “Relax. It’s a thirty-second fix.”
“Says the man who probably sabotaged it.”
He steps closer, crowding you against the panel. “If I wanted you trapped, sweetheart, I’d have done it somewhere with a bed.”
Your laugh is all edge. “Dream bigger, Cole. I don’t do *boring*.”
The lights die. Pitch blackness.
His hand finds your waist in the dark. “Careful,” he warns, voice low. “Your pulse is doing that thing again.”
You shove him back. “Don’t—”
The emergency lights click on, bathing him in crimson. His smirk is feral. “Don’t what? *Touch you?*” He advances, backing you into the corner. “Or don’t remind you how much you *like* it?”
Your heel catches the edge of the rail. He catches you, his palm scorching the bare skin of your back. Your breath tangles. His eyes drop to your mouth.
The intercom crackles. *“Maintenance here. Sit tight.”*
Ethan doesn’t let go. “Seems we’ve got time to kill.”
You curl a finger in his tie, tugging him flush. “What’s the matter? Scared of a little darkness?”
He grips your chin, thumb brushing your lip. “You’re the one trembling.”
*Liar.* But your skin betrays you, pebbling under his touch. The elevator groans, swaying slightly. His other hand splays over your hip, anchoring you.
“Admit it,” he murmurs, lips grazing your jaw. “You’ve thought about this.”
“Only to laugh.”
His teeth scrape your earlobe. “Liar.”
The elevator lurches. You gasp, clutching his shoulders. He takes advantage, slanting his mouth over yours. This kiss isn’t like the terrace—it’s slow, deliberate, a masterclass in ruin. His tongue teases yours, coaxing a moan you swallow too late. He smiles against your lips.
“There she is,” he rasps. “No barbs. No games. Just *you*.”
You bite his lower lip, hard. He growls, pinning your wrists above your head. The mirrored wall bites into your back. His hips grind against yours, and the ache between your thighs turns vicious.
“Still laughing?” he breathes.
The intercom blares. *“Moving now!”*
The elevator jolts upward. liam releases you like you’ve burned him. You stumble, lipstick smeared, blouse half-untucked. He adjusts his cuffs, flawless again.
“Tick tock, Aria,” he says as the doors open.
---
The boardroom is ice to your fever.
You present the merger proposal, voice steady even as his gaze lingers on the bruise blooming above your collar. When you finish, chloe nods. “Liam? Thoughts?”
He steeples his fingers. “Brilliant. If you ignore the gaping liability in clause 12(b).”
Your nails dig into your palms. “Which you’d know isn’t applicable if you’d read the addendum.”
“I did.” He tosses a stapled document on the table. *Your* document, annotated in red ink. “Your solution is a Band-Aid on a bullet wound. Try again.”
The room empties, leaving you seething.
He looms over the table. “You’re welcome.”
“For what? Humiliating me?”
“For saving you from your own mediocrity.” He grabs your annotated proposal. “You’re better than this. Or did last night scramble your brain?”
You snatch the papers. “Says the man who almost *f****d* me against an elevator wall.”
He stills. “Careful.”
“Why? Scared the interns will hear how desperate you are?”
In three strides, he’s around the table. You stand your ground, tilting your chin up. His hand cups your neck, thumb pressing your racing pulse.
“You want desperate?” he whispers. “I’ll show you desperate.”
His mouth crashes into yours, frenzied and raw. You claw at his hair, his belt, the table digging into your thighs. He lifts you onto it, scattering files. His teeth find your throat, and you arch—
The door clicks.
liam tears away, but not fast enough.
Jenna freezes, coffee tray rattling. “I—I’ll come back.”
“No need.” liam straightens his tie, the bastard. “We’re done here.”
He leaves without a backward glance.
You collapse into a chair, trembling. His pen rests by your hand, gold initials glinting. *L.C.* You snap it in half.
---
He texts at midnight.
**Unknown Number**: You left your panties in my desk.
You throw your phone across the room. It buzzes again.
**Unknown Number**: Red. Fitting.
You reply before you can stop yourself.
**You**: Burn them.
**liam**: Come burn them yourself.
**liam**: Unless you’re scared.
You stare at the screen. The city glows outside your window, restless as your pulse.
**You**: Address.
His response is instantaneous.
**liam**: [Location pinned: 2 miles away]
**liam**: Bring the rest of that lipstick.
**liam**: I’ll do the rest.
---
I HATE HIM !!!!
- Writer
