His hands were shaking.

To hide it, he shoved them into his back pockets as they waited for their turn to shuffle onto the elevator. Finally, they managed to wedge themselves in and then more people wedged themselves in after that. Trey found himself so close, he could have turned his head and he’d be able to bury his face in her hair. Soft, wild twists of curls…what would she do—

“Oh! Sorry!” There was a giggle, a squeal…and then like a bunch of dominos, people half fell, half crashed into others as the woman in the front continued to giggle. “Oopsie! Too marny—ah, too many marnis—too many martinis!”

A couple of snorts, a couple of snickers and more than a few curses. Trey barely heard any of them. Ressa had ended up crushed against his chest and he was pinned to the wall. Her hip was pressed snug to his crotch and even as he tried to ease her away, her gaze shifted, lifted…

His cock started to pulse, throb.

Her gaze dropped to his mouth.

Her hand fisted in the material of his shirt as she licked the full, ripe curve of her lower lip. If he didn’t at least taste that mouth—

The elevator dinged and bodies spilled out. As the person next to them escaped the press, Ressa eased back. Dusky color rode along her cheekbones as she slid her eyes up to meet his.

Tearing his gaze away, he looked at the lights flickering above the elevator door.

It hit her floor and as she turned away, she slid her hand down, caught his.

Sweat beaded at the nape of his neck and he had one brief moment of lucidity.

Trey Barnes was a man who liked order. He liked to be in control.

But he had absolutely no idea what in the hell he was doing.

And he was absolutely fine with that.