"Hey, May . . . she free?" Stepping out of the private elevator, Whitney smiled cheerfully at the grey-haired woman sitting behind the massive oak desk.
"For you? She's always free," the administrative assistant waved an immaculately manicured hand at him in a dismissive gesture, "you know that, Mr. Fordman."
He grinned and leaned over to drop a kiss on her cheek. Placing a white box before her, he explained, "Thought you could use a treat. Putting up with my wife every day? Not the easiest job in the world. Perks are a must."
A woman in possession of a finely tuned sense of timing, Whitney's wife emerged from her office and leveled an annoyed look at May. "Lex called again?!" She demanded, resting her hands on her hips, completely missing the fact her husband stood next to her and trying very hard not to laugh.
In the midst of opening the box, May nodded.
"About the article in the Gotham Gazette?"
"Mmhmm . . . " Lifting her gaze to her employer, the administrative assistant smiled wryly, "Mr. Luthor seems to be under the impression you would kill the story for him."
Chloe Sullivan-Fordman, Chief Executive Officer of Wayne Publishing, snorted derisively. "Clearly Mr. Luthor's been imbibing in the special Kryptonite today. I already told him to forget it. The story's good. It runs." She took in the display before her desk and lifted one slim brow. "How come I don't get treats?"
Whitney laughed and leaned down to kiss her. "You do. Just . . . not here." He slipped an arm around her waist. "I've come to abduct you for lunch."
"Mmm . . . lunch." Grinning wickedly up at him as he pulled back, Chloe licked her lower lip. "May? Tell Bruce we can reschedule that lunch date. Something came up."
"Not yet," Her husband murmured into her ear, "but give it a minute or two."
She swatted his chest lightly with one hand. "Behave." Was her order as she ducked past him into her office, emerging with her coat and purse. "Come on, before someone attempts a hostile takeover and I have to, y'know, order someone's assassination. That takes forever."
Her melodramatic sigh was answered by Whitney laughing. "Anyone else hears that, they're going to think you're serious."
"What, you mean I'm not?" Feigning confusion, Chloe leaned over to hit the call button for the elevator again. "I could've sworn I had somebody shot yesterday."
"The printers for the Journal." May called from her desk. "And they caved before you got to the actual shooting."
"Oh, that's right." Chloe pouted. "I hate when they cave." She turned to let Whitney help her on with her coat. "You'd be surprised how bloodthirsty this business can make you."
"Make you?" His grin widening, Whitney freed her hair from beneath her coat collar and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Try that one on someone who didn't know you in high school, beautiful. I can remember just how 'not' bloodthirsty you were. Some of the guys from the team still cringe when they hear your name."
"They do?" Looking inordinately pleased at the thought, his wife started forward into the elevator almost before the doors were completely open. "Seriously? You're not teasing me, right?"
"Scouts honor." Whitney vowed, placing a hand over his heart and stepping in with her. "They quake with terror."
Chloe dropped down onto the plush seat, feeling the familiar little thrill as she did so. Bruce Wayne treated his executives well when they delivered and Chloe Fordman delivered like nobody's business. The fledgling Wayne Publishing was rising fast in the industry, rivaling competitors who'd been in the business for decades, and Chloe had recently begun eyeing the Gotham branch of the Daily Planet. It would make a ripe little addition to the business.
Pleased with the progress, Bruce had treated the company headquarters to a restoration job which pleased the employees to no end. To Chloe's glee, her boss not only treated the executives well, he made sure the employees all the way down the company ladder received equally generous benefits.
But that was irrelevant to the fact that Chloe really, really, really loved her personal elevator with its nice comfy seat and carpeting. The first few times she'd ridden in it after the remodeling, she'd kicked off her shoes just to feel the carpet.
The realization that her husband was watching her with more than a little amusement drew Chloe from her thoughts and she blushed a little. "Sorry." Moving over, she let him sit down next to her.
Immediately, Whitney shifted his body to lean against the wall and pull her into his arms. Any chance to hold her was one he wasn't going to miss. "Hard to believe, huh?" He mused, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke. "That this is normal for us?" Both spouses worked for Bruce, Chloe running Wayne Publishing, Whitney in charge of his personal security. "Never would have thought this was where we were headed back in the day, hmm?"
"Never." She agreed, snuggling back into his arms. "Me? Running a business? The words yeah right would have definitely crossed my lips if someone had suggested it. Me, working for Bruce Wayne? Living in Gotham City...married to the high school quarterback?"
He laughed. "Please tell me the fact you're married to a former quarterback is not the most incredulous part of that sentence."
"Oh but it is." Chloe turned in his arms, grinning wickedly at him. "Throw in happily and it's downright unbelievable." She kissed him again. "Not that you'll hear me complaining. I love this...and you. Definitely with the loving you." Another kiss and her grin widened a little. "Now...what was that about a treat?"
Whitney lifted a brow. "Here?"
"Well, we haven't broken it in yet, have we?" She shrugged out of her overcoat and leaned over to hit the stop button. Bruce, at her request, had asked the workmen to add a stop button that was not an emergency one. Chloe'd handled more than one business emergency from the elevator and, well, sometimes she just wanted to scream and her nicely soundproof elevator was perfect for the job.
Reaching for her husband's tie, she idly wondered if, maybe, subconsciously, this was what she'd had in mind all along. Elevator sex? Definitely not a bad thing.
"You're bad." Whitney accused without irritation, his own fingers busily working on the buttons of her blouse.
"Horrible." She agreed, leaning into kiss him again. "Better punish me."
Breaking the kiss, he moved his mouth to the soft skin of her neck, reacquainting himself with that oh so sensitive place behind her ear. "Mmm...nah. Better idea."
A sound suspiciously resembling a purr emerged from his wife's throat as she opened his shirt, slipping her hands beneath it. "Oh yeah?" She managed after a moment. "What?"
"This." Whitney slid his hands beneath her skirt, rucking it up about her hips, in search of her underwear.
Chloe let out a surprised gasp as his fingertips brushed her clit through her panties. "Oohhh....ok." She sighed out, moving against his fingers.
Intimately familiar with his wife's body, Whitney knew what to touch, stroke and tease to bring Chloe to an orgasm which left her shaking in his arms. Brushing a kiss across her forehead, he cuddled her close, one hand going to her hair and stroking through it gently.
"Mmm..." Stretching, Chloe lifted her gaze to her husband's face and took in his features. "See what I mean?" She asked, shifting her body and turning to trace her fingertips over his chest in a nonsensical pattern. "Elevator good."
A lazy grin found its way onto his face and he dropped his head to kiss her again. "Elevator very good."
"Give it a minute," Sitting up, Chloe shed her panties then attacked Whitney's belt. Pulling it fro his body, she reached for his zipper with a gleam of mischief in her eyes. "Good won't even come close."
He watched with anticipation as she lifted herself up and settled down on him. Tight, hot, very, very wet and absolutely fantastic. Whitney groaned quietly in satisfaction, his hands landing on her hips and moving her on him.
Chloe was content to let him control the motion for a while, her body going with the pace he set. Then when she was ready, she halted their movements and, before Whitney could protest, she kissed him. Whatever words he would have spoken were lost in the intense kiss. When Chloe finally broke it, she replaced her lips with her forefinger. Silently, she began to move. A slow, grinding, maddening rhythm which seemed to drive him deeper with every lazy rock of her hips.
She was absolutely trying to kill him, Whitney decided when she tightened and ground herself down hard. His brain was going to blow right out of the top of his head. Driven by the steady, unrelenting pressure building in him.
Stoked steadily by the nymph moving on him.
Whitney pushed his hands into Chloe's hair, curling his fingers into the silky mass and pulled her mouth back to his. He kissed her fiercely, a messy kiss with teeth, tongue and pure emotion pouring from him to her. Chloe matched it point for point as when she returned the kiss, curling her hands into his shirt and moving into him.
If anyone had told him fifteen years previous he'd be married to Chloe, working for Bruce Wayne and having sex in an executive elevator, Whitney would have fallen over laughing. It definitely wasn't what he'd envisioned for his adult life. Chloe as his wife, a billionaire with a vigilante streak for a boss? A career in security instead of football? Yeah, definitely not what he'd planned. But...then again, what he'd planned paled in comparison to what he had.
As Whitney saw it, he had it pretty damn good.
The kiss ended in a violent gasp for air, their lungs insistently demanding oxygen, and Chloe let her head fall back, baring her neck to his eye. Tempted, Whitney leaned in and kissed his way down the soft skin which made her arch further and brought her breasts to his attention. All too willing, he shifted his focus to them, his mouth ghosting over the swell of one. Chloe shivered in response, pushing into the sensations, grip on his shirt tightening.
With the encouraging response, Whitney moved from one breast to the other while working a hand between them, seeking out her clit again. The feel of his fingertips had a pleasantly shocking result which had Chloe speeding up her own pace, pushing Whitney closer to his own climax. Determined not to come alone, Whitney sucked hard on her breast, making her cry out again. It didn't take much to push her over the edge, making her come and come hard.
Chloe was no shrinking violet when it came to life or sex and her exuberance was infectious. His hands grasping her tightly, he fell back against the seat as he climaxed, her name on his lips.
When she finally settled down, she rested her head on his chest. Right above his still racing heart. Neither was in any hurry to speak, content to enjoy the quiet of each other's presence. When Chloe finally lifted her head, she met her husband's gaze, a mirthful look in her eyes. "So, elevator good?"
Recovering himself, Whitney nodded. "Elevator fantastic."
Looking smug, his wife returned her head to his chest. "By the way, if you think this gets you out of actual lunch, think again Mister. I expect food. Real food."
"And real food you shall have my love." Her husband promised. "We've got reservations at a caf downtown. Your favorite... that one by the harbor."
Delight in her eyes, Chloe lifted her head to kiss him soundly. "I love you!"
Whitney took in the sight of her, messy hair, lively eyes, bright smile and smiled himself. "I love you too."
"Good," his wife announced cheerfully, patting his chest lightly. "Now, feed me."
Now there was an order Whitney had absolutely no trouble following. With a wicked grin and a sloppy salute, he gave a, "Yes, Ma'am!" and reached for his pants. It was lunch she wanted now and lunch was what she was going to get.
As Chloe hunted around for her panties, Whitney made a mental note to thank his boss for the elevator remodeling. Chloe was right. Elevator?
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