The Hotel Elevator
The hotel lobby was quiet that evening, the marble floors gleaming beneath soft golden light. I had just checked in, suitcase rolling behind me, when the elevator doors slid open. She stepped inside first. A woman in a fitted black dress that hugged her curves as though it had been made for her. The slit ran high on her thigh, revealing smooth skin with each step. Her perfume drifted toward me, warm and intoxicating. I followed her in, pressing my floor number. The doors closed, sealing us in the mirrored box. Our eyes met in the reflection. Hers were bold, teasing, like she already knew the effect she was having on me. She leaned against the railing, one hand smoothing down her dress. The slit parted, and I caught more of her leg than I should have. “You here on business?” she asked, her voice silky, almost playful. “Something like that,” I replied, though my thoughts were far from business. She smiled knowingly, then pressed the button to stop the elevator. The soft jolt made my puls...