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“I said leave it, Miss Fisher,” Jack stormed into The Australian Building ahead of her. He could hear the familiar clicking gallop of her catching up to his stride on the marble tile as they entered the office building. That woman could be so… exasperating!
“Jack! If you could just hear me out!” she called behind him. She was hot on his heels as he made his way to the twin lifts. It was after normal business hours; the suits and skirts had cleared out for the evening. They had hoped to catch Mr. Griffin in the office. They knew he worked long hours, and according to the telephone call placed to his home, he should be in his office on the eleventh floor.
Jack pressed the button for the lift and turned to face her, “I’ve heard all I care to hear about this, Miss Fisher. It was reckless and… and unnecessary and… no. Just no.”
“But Jack,” she tried to reason, “if you could just—”
Ding. The lift announced its presence and the doors beside them opened. Jack raised his eyebrows toward her and waved his hand in an invitation to precede him into the ornate metal and wood panel box.
She huffed loudly, but turned on her heel and stomped into the lift. Jack rolled his eyes and followed her.
“What floor did you say Mr. Griffin is on?” she asked in an annoyed tone.
He glanced at the notebook in his hand, “Eleven.”
Phryne reached out a gloved finger and poked at the number “11” on the panel. This was one of the new fancy Austral Otis models that didn’t require an operator. She pressed the button, and then pressed it again… repeatedly in rapid succession until the machine started responding with an agonized series of “Ding”s
“Oi,” Jack admonished, “That’s enough. You’ll break it.”
Phryne shot him a look, “I won’t break it. It’ll help the lift get there faster.”
“It doesn’t work like that.”
“Well, it feels faster,” she pouted.
The doors closed and the lift car jerked into motion.
They stood on opposite sides of the small room. Phryne stood beside the control panel, body tense. Jack leaned against the opposite wall, his eyes never leaving dial which tracked their progress as they traveled up… and up… and up. 1. Ding. 2. Ding. 3. Ding. 4. Ding. 5. Ding. 6. Lurch.
They both stumbled slightly as the lift lurched to a stop.
“What the…” Jack looked up, and then at the control panel, finally at Phryne, “what did you do?”
“What did I do?!” Phryne looked at him in annoyance, “Is this my fault as well?”
“Phryne, don’t,” his warning tone was equal parts exasperated and exhausted.
“No, Jack,” she was frustrated with this same diffusing. He always did this. That man could be so… exasperating! “How is this my fault? Pressing that button?”
He straightened his spine, “Perhaps. You do this all the time,” he accused, “always jumping in head-first without even checking to see if there’s any danger.”
“All I did was press a button!” she threw her arms up, “But this isn’t about that, is it? This is about the other thing… from before.” She could tell by the twitch of his brow that she was correct. “You won’t even let me explain what happened, you are just going to condemn me without letting me plead my case.”
“What’s there to explain, Miss Fisher?” he waived his arm out to her, “This is yet another example of you turning the situation to your advantage… the rest of the world be damned.”
They both huffed out annoyance at each other and turned away.
Jack pulled out his notebook, studiously avoiding making eye contact with Phryne. For her part, Phryne studied her fingernails… and then the floor… and then the ceiling… and then repeated the cycle a few more times, glancing furtively at Jack as she went.
“Well, since we’re stuck here for who knows how long… you get the explanation anyway,” she announced pulling off her gloves after about two minutes of fidgeting.
Jack closed his eyes in frustration. He really didn’t want to hear it. Again. Once again, she’d done something dangerous. Something reckless. And he was angry. He hadn’t really been studying his notes. He just couldn’t look at her right now.
He couldn’t look—but he could still sense her. She was very distracting. She’d always been distracting, but since he now knew her touch, her scent, her taste… the distraction was sometimes overwhelming. He knew he was angry because she’d scared him. He was at least self-aware enough to understand that. They’d been intimate for some time now, and though it was hard to keep business and pleasure separate, it was important enough to both of them to try.
But then she had to go and do something foolish. Reckless. Thoughtless. He pinched his brow with his hand.
“Fine.” He turned to find she’d closed the short distance between them in the time he’d spent internally conversing with himself. Having her directly in front of him staring into his eyes, shooting quick glances at his lips, did what it always did to him. He felt his cock twitch toward her in recognition.
His throat went dry. “Fine,” he tried again, the pitch of his voice dropping with the arousal of her proximity, “explain yourself, Miss Fisher.”
She watched his pupils dilate as he realized how close she was. Jack’s ready arousal at her nearness was one of her favorite observations.
Phryne was prepared to defend herself, but something about Jack’s blend of arousal and anger was distracting her. He had always been distracting to her. The seriousness of his mood… the set of his jaw… his buttoned up armour of perfection… they all distracted her with thoughts of how she could unravel his façade and with it a layer of the mystery that was Jack Robinson. Since they had become lovers, she knew with certainty the gloriousness of Jack undone. It was an intoxicating aphrodisiac. She could feel a twist of arousal at her core. She would explain her actions, she promised herself, but her priority had shifted. She needed Jack—now.
Jack watched as Phryne’s gaze dipped to the front of his trousers in admiration. He used to be good at hiding his arousal, but she had lately taken an interest in honing her innate sense of his level of interest. Her admiration only served to make his need more pressing.
She reached out her hand to take his tie, sliding her fingers suggestively down the tie as she pulled herself slightly closer.
“Well… first of all,” she said in a sultry tone, “it wasn’t unnecessary. If I hadn’t done it, we might be having this conversation in hospital or not at all.”
His breath was getting heavier as she drew nearer.
“Perhaps,” his voice was soft and low now, “but it was still reckless.” He knew she was right, at least in part. He also knew his anger was entirely his fear. It had been close. Too close.
It was, of course, something that he’d just have to learn to live with or give her up—again. Now that he knew her so intimately, the latter wasn’t really an option.
Her lips had moved even closer to his. Close enough to kiss her excuses away if it came to that. His senses were becoming overwhelmed with Phryne.
“It wasn’t reckless. Precipitous perhaps,” she conceded with smirk, “but I wouldn’t call it… mmm”
That was enough of that. The nerve of her. His hand was on the back of her head. He’d used it to pull her just that little bit closer to stop her from her latest excuse. He didn’t care right now. She was alive; he was alive. Nothing else really mattered except affirming that fact.
For her part, Phryne was happy with this turn of events. One of her hands found its way to the nape of his neck and the other pulled him closer by his arse as she enthusiastically returned the kiss.
Jack slid his hand down Phryne’s back, giving her bottom a squeeze before bunching the fabric of her skirt in his fist. He tried pulling at the skirt so that it hiked above her hips. He released the back of her head to let his other arm join the effort. She slid both her arms around his neck to keep his lips fastened to hers.
With both arms free to pull her skirt up, the job went much faster. He reached for the globes of her arse feeling the silk tap pants slide sensuously over his palms. He wanted more. He needed Phryne—now.
He swung them around so that her back was pressed up against the wall of the lift.
Jack pulled away from their kiss, Phryne moaning at the loss of his lips, and dropped to his knees in front of her. The swiftness of the action causing his hat to fall off his head. He didn’t even notice.
Phryne inhaled sharply as he looked up at her with hungry intent. He slid his hands to the band of her undergarments, following it around to the front where his long but nimble fingers made well-practiced, quick work of the tie at the front. He slid the pants down her legs, coaxing one foot off the ground, and then then other.
Before Phryne could put her foot back down, Jack slid his hand up her stockinged leg. He bent her leg at the knee, placing it over his shoulder as he kissed her inner thigh.
He pulled his mouth away, admiring the taut muscles of her thigh. His eyes drifted to the damp curls tantalizingly close. Her natural honey scent always complimented, but now dominated, her usual French perfume.
“Jack,” the low sultry voice above him commanded his attention. His eyes locked with hers as she moved her fingers into his hair.
He smirked at her, “Precipitous, you say.”
She grinned at him in return, “Dizzyingly so.”
“I always knew you were going to be my downfall,” he chuckled.
“I’ve always thought of myself as uplifting,” she sassed back.
She laughed lightly with him and then inhaled sharply as she felt his lips latch onto her the nub of her clitoris. “Oh, Jack! Yes!”
His tongue darted out to flick gently at the sensitive nub. Phryne gripped the back of his head, gently directing him where she wanted his attention. He’d always been a quick study of her anatomy.
Phryne let out a low moan of approval. He grinned against her sex.
“Jack… more,” she pleaded with him, “I need more.”
He brought both of his hands up to join the exploration. One arm wrapped around the thigh on his shoulder, anchoring her. His forearm held her skirt off his face and his hand moved to the top of her curls to begin rhythmic massaging of her mons pubis. His other hand came up under his chin. He swirled his finger at her entrance, pulling his face away to look up at her. Her head was thrown back, her body arched with shoulders pressed into the wall of the lift car. One of her arms was solidly bracing her against the wall next to her while the hand of the other arm clutched at his hair. When she realized he’d pulled his mouth away from her sex she looked down her own body. Hazy, lust-filled eyes met his. He smirked at his effect on her, and withdrew his finger, and then sucked it into his mouth—both to lubricate it and revel in her Phryne flavor. He pressed harder on her mons pubis and inserted his moistened finger into her passage.
“Better?” his deep baritone floated up to her. Watching her tension build before release was one of his favorite observations. She moaned out a roughly affirmative sound as he began pumping his finger in and out of her faster. Between the pressure of the massage and the thrusting of his finger he could tell she was getting very, very close to release.
The leg that was draped over his shoulder pressed fiercely into his back. The leg still bearing much of her weight was starting to shake. Loud mewing moans were escaping her lips as he continued to massage and stroke. Her fingers curled harshly into his hair. He felt a sharp sting of nails and hair being yanked as he worked furiously toward her release. The grip on his head tightened as she tried to steer his mouth back to her sex. He got the hint immediately, plunging his tongue between her folds. The pumping, the swirling, the massaging were all too much. Phryne came with a throaty yell. Her inner walls clamping and pulling at his embedded digit. Her thigh spasmed against his cheek. Her supporting leg started to give out.
Jack steadied her with his anchoring arm and removed his hand from within her to steady her further. He lapped up the extra moisture that had appeared with her release.
She looked down at his glazed mouth and chin. “Up,” she commanded, lifting her leg off his shoulder. She grabbed him by his lapels, yanking him to his feet. As soon as he was on her level, she grabbed him with both hands, fingertips pulling him close by the base of his skull, thumbs on his cheekbones and plundered his mouth with her own. She wanted that intoxicating taste of her own honey with his Jack flavor.
His hands dropped to her bottom as he pulled her close, she could feel his straining cock underneath his clothes.
Jack was momentarily stunned when Phryne moved her hands to his shoulders and shoved him away from her. She pushed off the wall behind her with her foot and launched with him the short distance to the opposite wall. His back hit the wall with a thud. “Phryne, what? Mmm…”
Before he could say anything else, her lips had latched back onto his. He could feel tugging at his waist, and realized that Phryne was trying to set him free. Her expert fingers had his trousers unfastened and his smalls unbuttoned in record time. Jack breathed in deeply as the cool air of the lift hit his now exposed cock. She took ahold of his shaft and began tugging firmly at the silken skin already pulled taut over his thick erection. “My turn,” she said in a sultry tone. She began sinking to her knees, but he caught her by her shoulders before she could, shaking his head at her.
“Inside you,” he demanded breathlessly. She nodded quickly. Her skirt was still bunched around her waist, so lifting her stockinged leg to hitch it around his waist wasn’t difficult. He took ahold of his shaft and guided it into her soaking core. As she sank onto his rigid cock, she gripped him tightly with her leg around his waist, and arms around his neck. He pressed his forehead to hers and breathed deeply trying to maintain control.
“Mmm. Jack,” she hummed with pleasure as she slid shallowly up and down his shaft. Her slick, warm walls enveloping his cock as she slowly bobbed up and down were a delicious torture. The angle left him almost no control. His shoulders were pinned against the wall while Phryne slithered up and down his mostly clothed body. Phryne dipped her head in for another kiss.
It was too much for him. He picked her up by her ass, “My turn to be uplifting, Miss Fisher.”
He forced himself away from the wall with the strength of his powerful shoulders and legs.
Phryne got the idea immediately. She hopped slightly to bring her other leg around his waist, never letting his cock leave her warm embrace… clenching her pelvic muscles to hold him in place.
Jack groaned as her inner walls clamped down on his member. He stumbled slightly catching her fall against (now the third) lift wall. This angle worked much better for both of them. With Phryne pinned against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist, Jack was able to get more leverage. His muscular thighs helped him push deeper and faster. His powerful thrusts lifted her up the wall and gravity slammed her back down on his cock. Jack’s hands were occupied with keeping Phryne up. His strong fingers gripped firmly into her bottom. He was strong enough to be able to keep her against the wall without her really holding on. She held on with one arm looped around his neck, whilst the other arm snaked between them help herself reach another peak.
They were both very close.
Lurch.
“Jack?" Jack kept thrusting, "Did you feel that?”
Ding
“We’re moving again… hurry, Jack!” her eyes watched the dial while Jack continued to thrust.
“Fuck. Phryne… I’m close.”
“Keep going, Jack!”
7.
Her hand on her clitoris moved faster, she could feel her release starting to build rapidly.
Ding.
“Fuck!” Jack shouted and swung them around ramming into her as they hit the lift doors (and their fourth wall of this lift) nearly breaking though.
8.
“Jack… Jack… I’m coming… “ waves of pleasure cascaded through her. Her walls pulled and tugged at his cock, rippling, massaging pleasure. Just two more thrusts…
Ding.
It was enough to cause his hips to stutter and his own release was triggered. He half collapsed against her as her still quivering inner walls milked his cock.
9.
She dropped her feet to the floor as he released her. His cock sliding from her. She pushed him away slightly, then dropped to a squat to quickly clean his cock with her mouth.
Ding.
He helped her up—reaching for the clean handkerchief in his breast pocket as he did.
10.
He handed her the handkerchief for her to clean up the moisture and evidence of his release.
"Why were we fighting again?" Jack asked aloud as he handed the cloth to her.
Ding.
As she cleaned herself. He tucked himself back into his smalls and trousers. "Literary device," she responded to his query.
11.
"Ah, I see." he claimed, but didn't.
Lurch.
They’d reached their destination, Phryne dipped quickly to retrieve her purse, shoving the damp handkerchief into it. She quickly pushed her skirt back down into place… realizing that her knickers were… Jack realized at the same time and stooped quickly to grab them and his hat off the floor where he’d left them. He shoved the pants into his pocket and his hat on his head as the doors opened.
A portly, grey-haired man was standing on the other side of the newly opened lift doors.
“Mr. Griffin!” Phryne chimed brightly, “Just the man we’ve come to see!”