The Drive That Changed Everything
Just before the elevator doors shut, a hand slipped in to stop them—and Blake stepped in beside me.
He gave me a look that was impossible to read. “Didn’t think you’d sneak out without me.”
I smiled—barely. “Just heading home, Blake.”
He reached out to press the button for the basement, but before he could, I leaned in and hit it myself.
Our hands touched. Just for a second. Bare skin against skin. Nothing that would’ve meant anything to someone else.
But to me?
It was everything.
My heart skipped so sharply I thought he’d hear it.
He glanced at me and smiled. “Thanks, Troy”
The elevator started to hum downward. A soft mechanical lull beneath the silence that filled the space between us.
He shifted slightly, not looking at me as he asked, “Hey, do you need a ride home?”
I hesitated, caught off guard. “Oh. That’s okay. Mr. Blake. I’m good, really.”
He nodded, not pushing. But then again—he didn’t pull back either.
As the elevator slowed at the ground floor, I stepped forward, ready to leave and vanish into the night.
But his voice stopped me.
“You sure?” he said, and this time it was quieter. Gentler. “It’s late. And I’m heading that way. I'll drop you, don't worry.”
I froze, just slightly, before glancing back. The doors were open. The city waited. But the way he looked at me… steady, calm, that same restraint from earlier still flickering in his eyes… it pulled at something in me.
He nodded toward the exit. “Come on. I insist.”
There was something in his voice that made the answer come out before I could think it through.
“Okay,” I said. “Thank you so much Blake.”
We walked together down a quiet hallway I’d never used before. His keycard let us into the executive basement garage, and when his car chirped—sleek, black, and definitely out of my tax bracket—I paused for just a second.
He opened the passenger door for me, like a goddamn movie.
“Here,” he said softly. “Let me.”
I blinked, still unsure if this was happening. “Thanks…”
I slid into the seat, trying not to feel the way my pulse jumped. The leather was smooth and cool. The air smelled like his cologne—warm, spicy, expensive. Masculine in a way that clung to the back of my throat.
He got in on the driver’s side, started the car, and for a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
The silence was strangely comfortable.
He finally glanced over. “You live far?”
“Not really. Just west of the park.”
“Nice.”
The drive through the city was smooth and quiet. Streetlights painted gold across the dashboard in rhythmic flashes. The world outside blurred, but in the car, everything felt still.
“So,” he said, voice easy now, “what’s tomorrow for you? Big plans for Saturday night?”
I let out a small laugh. “Yeah, actually. My friend’s gender reveal in the morning. Her and her husband are going all out. Smoke cannons, cupcakes. I think a choreographed dance is involved.”
He chuckled. “Sounds… intense.”
“It will be,” I said, smiling. “But good intense.”
He nodded. “Good.”
By the time we pulled up outside my apartment, something in the air had shifted again. Not as sharp as before. But thicker. Heavier. Like a string that had been wound too tight and was waiting to snap.
I unbuckled my seatbelt but didn’t move.
The silence between us lingered, thick with something neither of us wanted to name.
I turned to him slowly. My heart was loud in my ears.
“I just wanted to say…” I took a breath. “I’m sorry about earlier, Blake. I misread things. Got caught up in the moment.”
Blake didn’t respond at first. His gaze was steady, fixed on me.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” I continued, softer now.
“I wasn’t thinking clearly. I just—”
I paused.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Maddox. Uh… Mr. Blake.”
The air felt different after I said it. Like something vulnerable had cracked open between us.
I expected him to give me a smile. Maybe a quiet it’s okay, or a polite dismissal to make it all go away.
But he didn’t.
He turned in his seat instead, slow and deliberate. His jaw was tense, and his eyes—God—his eyes were searching mine like he wasn’t sure what he was about to say.
“Actually, Troy…”
His voice had changed. Lower. Raw. Like something had broken loose inside him and he couldn’t keep it in anymore.
I held my breath.
His eyes didn’t leave mine. And even as he leaned in, he hesitated. His lips stopped just a breath away.
I could feel the warmth of him.
I could smell him.
He didn’t move further.
Not yet.
Then he whispered it.
“Fuck it.”
And his mouth found mine.
The kiss was immediate. Fierce. Passionate.
Like it had been caged behind his ribs for so long, clawing to get out—and now he was letting it all pour into me. The low sound in his throat. He kissed like a man on the edge. Like he was craving it.
His hand came up fast—fingers strong and commanding, cupping my jaw, thumb anchoring just beneath my cheekbone. The way he held me there… it made something twist deep inside me. Like he was claiming the moment. Like he needed me close or he might lose control.
I kissed him back without a thought. Desperate. My whole body lit up as if something had just snapped loose in me.
And then—God—his fingers slid into my hair gently, threading through it like he’d been dying to do it for ages. He gave a gentle pull, just enough to tilt my head, to expose me to him. I moaned. It spilled from me, soft and involuntary, before I could stop it.
He kissed me harder after that. Like he liked the sound. Like it flipped a switch.
His lips moved over mine with fire, open and wet teasing me. I could feel the tension in his jaw, the heat of his breath, the way his chest rose and fell against me. I didn’t pull back.
I leaned in instead, my palm sliding up the front of his chest. His shirt—dark green, fitted, soft cotton—was warm from his skin. I could feel the hard cut of his body beneath it. Pecs. Shoulders. He was solid, carved like something purposeful. Like he belonged in this kind of moment.
My fingers drifted over the curve of his collarbone, and he let out a quiet groan that made my knees go soft. That sound—it sent heat pulsing low in my belly.
I shifted closer, pressing my thigh between his. He didn’t stop me. His other hand moved low, landing at my waist, then slowly sliding around my hip, pulling me flush against him. I felt the outline of his cock—hard, unmistakable—pressing through his jeans against my thigh. My breath caught.
Still, we didn’t stop.
We didn’t even try.
We kissed like we were trying to make up for every second we’d wasted pretending we didn’t want this all week. Breath hitching, hands roaming like we needed more, and then more again.
His mouth left mine only to kiss down the line of my neck, then behind my ear, kissing gently at the skin there. My head dropped back with a gasp, giving him access. I felt his lips graze me. I shivered.
My fingers gripped the front of his shirt, desperate to keep him close. I didn’t care if we were in his car. I didn’t care about anything except the heat spreading between us, the way his hand had crept beneath the hem of my tshirt, warm fingers now tracing the bare skin at my lower back.
I wanted him.
God, I wanted him so bad.
All of him.
But eventually, finally, he slowed.
He pulled back—just enough for his lips to hover above mine. His breath was fast. His eyes searched mine.
His hand stayed on my cheek, thumb stroking lazily across my jaw.
“I wanted to do that,” he said, his voice rough with need.
“Then why didn’t you earlier?” I asked, barely able to speak. My lips were tingling. My whole body was trembling.
He looked away for a second. Not coldly. Just… grappling. Then back at me.
“Because you’re my intern,” he said. “And because I don’t usually do this.”
I swallowed, trying to catch my breath. My skin buzzed where he’d touched me.
His thumb kept moving, slow, hypnotic. He was still touching me like he didn’t want to stop.
“When you leaned in earlier… I panicked. I thought maybe I was imagining it. And I didn’t want to cross a line.”
“And now?” I asked, my voice low.
His eyes darkened—lust and hesitation, all tangled together.
“Now I’m wondering if I already did.”
The silence that followed was thick. Not awkward. It was electric—charged and unfinished.
I could still feel his kiss on my lips. Still taste him. Still feel the hard press of him between my thighs.
And even though he hadn’t said it outright, I could see it in his eyes.
He wanted more.
So did I.
So, I went for it.....
“Would you maybe…” I hesitated, nerves hitting me all at once. “Would you wanna come in? I mean, if you’re not rushing anywhere. You could… stay the night.”
The second it came out of my mouth, I looked away. Embarrassed. My ears burned hot.
He didn’t respond right away.
Then, gently—too gently—he said my name.
“Troy…”
My heart sank the moment I heard it in that tone.
“I should go.”
I nodded quickly, trying to pretend that didn’t sting. “Right. Yeah. Of course.”
But he didn’t turn away just yet.
He looked at me again, longer this time. Then reached over one last time, his fingers brushing lightly down my arm.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Okay?”
I smiled, small. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”
I opened the door and stepped out, legs a little shaky as I closed it behind me.
And as I walked toward my building, keys in hand, I could still feel his kiss on my lips. His breath on my cheeks.
Like it hadn’t really ended.
Like maybe—just maybe—it was only beginning.
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