The next point on my little list was a little tricky. “I’m twenty-two, and yet I’m a virgin,” I said before I could stop myself.
“Maybe you never found find the right person, or the right situation,” he whispered after a slight pause.
I laughed, fighting the need to elaborate. “You have an excuse for everything, don’t you?”
“I’m just a realist.”
“Or an optimist.” With a sexy voice, and a sexy body, and a face I couldn’t remember. Too bad we were about to suffocate, or else I might have found myself just a little bit drawn to this one.
The darkness before my eyes began to spin. If it weren’t for his strong arms around me, I would have dropped to the floor, too weak to sit up straight. “I might need to cut to the last point on my list,” I said. “And it’s a big one. I have carried it all my life.”
“Hold on to me,” he whispered.
I was. More than he’d ever know.
“Someone died because of me.” My voice came so low and faint, I wasn’t sure he could hear me. “I’ll never be able to live with myself.”
Silence. For a second, I wondered if he had even heard me.
“I’m sure it wasn’t like that. It was an accident,” he said at last.
No hesitation.
No blame.
No mistrust.
Either he was a good person and believed in the good in people, or he was trying to keep the conversation light because of our situation, and then sprint for the nearest exit—if we ever made it out alive.
I shook my head. “You don’t know me. You know nothing about me.”
Another pause. A few seconds passed, during which I could hear his breathing, slow and steady, but slightly labored.
“Lay down,” he whispered. “The air’s cooler on the floor.”
Didn’t he hear what I’d just told him? He tugged at my hand, and I did as instructed.
His arms wrapped around me and he drew me to his chest. I nestled in his arms.
The minutes passed, and the alarm continued to blare. With every second, breathing became harder. If out of a lack of oxygen or something else, I couldn’t tell.
“No one’s coming for us, are they?” I whispered inaudibly, my face buried against his strong chest. He smelled so good it was impossible to resist his scent.
“We should do something to take our mind off it,” he whispered. His voice had become quiet, shaky, heavy, and—was that fear?
“What?”
“I could kiss you,” he whispered.
His hands cupped my face. I looked up, my gaze searching him in the darkness, when I realized that this might just be our last moment.
I might die with a stranger.
“Laurie?” he asked, his voice drawing me to reality.
“I don’t even know your name,” I whispered.
He chuckled. “It doesn’t matter now, does it?”
No, not really. “I want to kiss you, too.”
In a bold moment, I raised my mouth to meet his. He ran a thumb across my lips before our mouths connected, warm and tender. For a second, I could sense his hesitation, and then his lips opened to claim my mouth with a hunger that took my breath away.
The sound of an alarm continued to carry over, but I didn’t care. All I wanted were this stranger’s lips on mine and the hot waves of want he sent through me, helping me to forget, keeping me alive—on the brink of sanity—with nothing but a kiss. I had never felt this way before. I had never been in such a state of fear and gratitude that I wasn’t alone. Then again, I had never been so close to dying.
My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, our mouths meeting once more, when something hard crashed against the walls, resulting in a loud thud. I turned my head toward the door.
A shrill noise, like metal scratching against metal, echoed, followed by the sound of a different alarm, the noise increasing in volume. I pressed my palms against my ears, and watched how something pried the door open.
“They’re here for us,” I said, relief streaming through me. He didn’t say anything.
“Did you hear what I just said?” I asked again, touching him. “You were right. They came back for us.”
Suddenly, a bright light blinded me. I raised my hand to shield my eyes from the blinding brightness.
Arms wrapped around me and pulled me to my feet, and something cold was pressed against my face. I inhaled automatically, then with more fervor as I realized someone was holding an oxygen mask against my mouth and nose.
“I’ve got her,” a male voice yelled in my ear, the sound almost as loud as the blaring in the background. “We’re coming out now.”
My head snapped back toward the elevator, in the stranger’s direction, and I opened my mouth to speak. To my dismay, I realized he wasn’t behind me, or maybe I couldn’t see him through the thick curtain of charcoal smoke that had filled the hall.