“Baby hurt her pinky toe?” he teased with one arm behind my back and the other under my knees. “Daddy has something for that.”
“Stop it!” I said, laughing hysterically. “You sound like a total pervert! And you’re the one who’s responsible. How are you going to be the one to fix it?”
We’d been in the car for an hour, so my toe was fine, of course, but I was playing it up for the attention.
Jeremy met us at the door looking worried about Xavier carrying me. “Will you need a wheelchair, Ms. Winslow?”
“I’m fine, Jeremy.”
“Nah, man, call 9-1-1! She hurt her pinky toe!” Xavier interjected playfully. “We might have an amputation on our hands.”
“Whatever!” I plucked Xavier in the forehead. “Will you put me down now?”
“With a toe injury like that?” Xavier joked. “I most certainly cannot.”
Jeremy had already pulled out his phone, but then he figured out the joke and was laughing, too. He opened the elevator door and Xavier stepped on with me still in his arms and giggling. Jeremy was about to come into the elevator with us, but Xavier stopped him.
“I’ll take it from here, man,” Xavier said.
“It’s no problem, sir. I always escort Ms. Winslow to her floor. It’s our—”
“I’m her escort now,” Xavier said strongly.
“But I’m supposed to—”
“It’s fine, Jeremy,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”
Jeremy nodded and stepped back from the doorway.
When the door finally closed, Xavier let me down and pulled me into his arms. As the elevator started climbing from floor to floor, he kissed my ears and neck. Massaged my lower back.
“I know a special cure for stubbed toes,” he whispered in my ear.
“What?”
“I can show you better than I can tell you.” He lifted me up and wrapped my legs around his waist, staggering from one side of the elevator to the next, where my back was against the wall. One of his arms was under my legs and he was thrusting his hand into my underwear. The other arm managed his belt strap as he loosened it. “You’re all mine,” he said breathlessly.
“Oh shit,” I cried, feeling Xavier tear away the seat of my underwear. I closed my eyes and bit into his neck.
His kiss and touch were so engulfing I hadn’t felt that the elevator had stopped and had no idea how long my neighbor, Mrs. Jackson, who happened to be the oldest woman in the building, had been watching us going at it in the corner, with Xavier’s pants falling down to his ankles.
Luckily, my phone started ringing and I opened my eyes to see her standing in the open doorway, holding her trash.
“Shit!” I wiggled out of Xavier’s arms and stood up.
Xavier snapped around to see what I was looking at, but he forgot to pull up his pants and Mrs. Jackson got a big eyeful of his whole anatomy.
“Oh!” she said and her voice was more pleasantly surprised than angered.
Xavier apologized and pulled up his pants.
We ran down the hallway to my door, laughing like we were teenagers who’d been caught making out by one of our schoolteachers.
Fully embarrassed, I kept turning around to the elevator. Mrs. Jackson was just standing there in awe, looking like she hoped Xavier’s pants would fall again.
The phone was still ringing when Xavier and I were in my place and pulling off clothes in a race to the bed.
I’d forgotten about my stubbed toe and flashes of his hand in my panties in the elevator had me ready to tear off his underwear.