Ding. The brass doors opened. They were alone on the elevator. He punched the button for floor sixty-three, with a solid plan to secure her in her room and somehow lock it from the outside. The numbers flew by, knocking through the forties, then the fifties.

It should’ve slowed. They hit sixty-one, sixty-two, and then sixty-three. And the elevator blew past it. Jared punched the button again as the elevator shot into the seventies. The penthouse capped out at ninety-nine.

“Jared?” Sugar’s voice wavered.

He let go of her hand and pulled the emergency-stop button. The elevator slammed to a stop. Sugar hit her knees, cussing. His shoulder slammed the wall, taking the jarring hit. The lights flickered off, then cut to emergency lights.

“What the fuck?” he growled, hitting the operator button. He stared toward the security camera and jammed the button again. “Hello?”

An American voice poured through a speaker. “Our apologies for the problem. You’re between floors. Maintenance should arrive soon.”

Owning an equity stake in the hotel just paid off. The loyal staff knew Jared by name, but the man over the speaker hadn’t addressed him directly. The hotel was well aware of who Titan was and made certain allowances for them, like his suite that doubled as an armored apartment and security measures that made Fort Knox look like it was protected by mall security. Besides, anyone speaking through the speaker would’ve had a foreign accent. “Not a problem. Thanks for the update.”

Sugar’s eyes were wide. Despite the liquor, she was smart enough to stay mum.

“Come here, woman.” He pulled Sugar tight to him, then slammed them against the wall. His lips trailed up her neck, to her ear. “Don’t say a word. We’re in trouble.”

She moaned an understanding. He ran his hands down her back and cupped her behind.

Jared nudged her earlobe. “I’m going to toss you up. Punch out that grate and pull yourself out. Don’t look over the edge, and hang on if another elevator passes. I’ll be right behind you.”

A noise echoed in the elevator shaft below—the sound of voices, mechanical clanging, and climbing.

She repositioned her head, dragging a breath across his skin, the same as he’d done. When her lips tickled the shell of his ear, he groaned. Get your head in the game, man.

Sugar murmured. “I’ve been drinking. I don’t know if—”

“You’ll be fine. You’re a pro, and that’s not a maintenance crew coming for us.” A loud clang echoed in the shaft again. They were getting closer. “Ready?”

She didn’t answer, just closed the distance, sliding her lips over his.

If that isn’t the best damn good-to-go I’ve ever had… He kissed her a second longer than he should’ve and then catapulted her toward the ceiling. The grate busted free, and Sugar deadlifted her body up and over, short skirt, tall boots, and all. Mystery solved on what was under that skirt. Not fuckin’ much.