RAW DESIRES:{50 Stories of Passion}
His laugh was easy, disarming, and I found myself relaxing against the wall, my bag slipping down my arm.
By the time we passed floor 10, the conversation had turned personal, about favorite spots in the city, the best way to unwind after a long day. His eyes held mine when he spoke, intense, like he was memorizing every word.
Then, between 15 and 16, the elevator jolted. A sharp grind of metal echoed through the car, and we both grabbed the handrail. The lights flickered once, twice, before steadying. But the numbers stopped climbing and the doors didn't open.