POV: Jane
The emergency strobes slice through the elevator car like bleeding scalpels. Every pulse paints Brian’s sharp jawline in violent crimson. The siren isn’t just loud; it’s a physical drill vibrating against my skull, rattling the steel walls, syncing perfectly with the frantic hammering in my chest. My knees are still weak. My gray wool skirt is bunched around my hips, the cool air biting at exposed skin that’s still humming from his touch just minutes ago.
"Brian?" I choke out. The name scrapes my raw throat.
Before my bare heel can find purchase, his heavy arm bands around my waist. He yanks me flush against the rigid wall of his chest. The expensive wool of his suit jacket grinds against my silk blouse. Adrenaline and dark cologne flood my senses, instantly overriding the co
