Only nothing boring would come to mind.
The doors slid closed and the elevator began to rise at what seemed like a snail’s pace. Ethan took a step towards me. I couldn’t help taking another one back—though there weren’t many places I could go in such a confined space. I pressed my back against the cool steel wall and watched him almost breathlessly. Anticipating his touch, even though common sense suggested he was only teasing. After all, there wasn’t much he could do in an elevator in the space of ten floors.
Was there?
He moved closer. My breath stuttered to a brief stop. Like a rabbit caught in a spotlight, I watched as he bracketed his hands on either side of my head. Then he leaned forward, sending my senses into a spiral of delight. My nipples hardened, as if reaching out to brush his body. Which they couldn’t, because he wasn’t that close.
Part of me wished he was. Wished I could just melt against all that warm, hard flesh and allow my fingers the freedom to roam. But that would only be asking for more than I could probably handle.
So I raised a hand and simply pressed it against his chest, stopping him from coming closer. Even through the soft silk of his shirt, his muscles felt like iron under my fingertips, and my skin itched with the need to feel, to caress.
“Don’t,” I said. Unfortunately, my voice came out husky and that only ignited the spark in his eyes all the more.
“Don’t what?” he said, his breath a whisper across my cheeks. “Do this?”
His weight pressed against my hand, a gentle force I suddenly couldn’t stop and couldn’t resist. My aching nipples finally came in contact with the softness of his shirt, and something akin to electricity shot through my body. Lord, it felt good. And he was so close, so tempting, and his lips there, right there, right within tasting distance.
Oh, how I wanted to taste them.
And he knew it, damn him.
“Or this?” he added, then brushed his mouth across mine.
It felt like the touch of fire. Or maybe it was only me who burned, not him. Not his delicious lips.
“You want me, Ravioli,” he murmured. His lips moved from my mouth to my chin then my neck, tasting, teasing, arousing. I closed my eyes, savoring the heat zinging across every fiber of my being.
“Go on, admit it.”
I didn’t have to admit anything, especially when the scent of my arousal was so damn obvious.
“How can I want a man who can’t even remember my name?” I somehow managed to say.
His lips brushed the pulse point at the base of my neck, sending a tremor through my limbs, then continued down, following the V of my shirt. I closed my eyes, torn between the sweet desire of his kisses, and the knowledge that I needed to push him away before this got out of hand.
And it would get out of hand. He was a werewolf and an alpha, and the wolf within me just couldn’t help reacting to the power and masculinity of his presence. Not to mention his sheer, must-have-you-now sexiness.
“Ravioli suits you,” he murmured. His teeth grazed a nipple. I shuddered, and barely resisted the urge to arch into him. To offer myself to that tantalizing, tempting touch.
“So does my name.” My voice sounded as liquid as I felt. “Which is Grace Rioli, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“I haven’t.” His lips trailed fire back up my neck. When his tongue flirted with my ear, my knees threatened to buckle. “But ravioli is my favorite food, and this particular dish is one I’ve longed to taste more fully.”
If he kept this up, he’d be able to drink me, because I’d be little more than a puddle at his feet.
“So basically, you’re saying I remind you of a small square pasta?”
His chuckle vibrated against my neck, and my toes curled in delight.
“You may be small in height and waist, Grace, but you’re sure not small in other departments.”
His tongue alternated with his teeth against my ear, teasing the exact right spot, and my body vibrated with the force of pleasure shooting through me. God, why was the elevator taking so damn long to climb ten floors?
This had to stop. Not the elevator—him. Or I wouldn’t want to. I squeezed my other hand between us, and pushed with both. Not too much, just enough to remove the heat of his lips from my neck. “So now you’re saying I’ve got a fat ass? Charming.”
His gaze scorched mine, blue eyes rich with amusement and lust. It was the same sort of lust that pounded through me—the hot, let’s get down and dirty, right here, right now, type of lust.
Damn it, why couldn’t I find that sort of intensity with someone I didn’t work with?