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Trapped With You
Twenty-four hours ago, if you’d asked me whether I would ever have gotten off while hiding in a wardrobe with my boss, the answer would have been a resounding negative with a hint of mild horror at the mere thought. You’re probably thinking, “That’s an oddly specific scenario, Lucy.” You would be right. And yet, it happened.
The night started innocently enough. Lockwood and I were on a case. The sole distinction between this case and any other was George being at home with the flu, while I had confined Skull to the pantry following a lewd comment regarding Lockwood’s thoughts about my hips. Which were in no way true. Of course, Lockwood and I had done cases by ourselves before and nothing untoward happened. But we’d also never had to hide in a wardrobe from a cluster of menacing Visitors.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me go back to the beginning.
***
A land developer reached out to Lockwood & Co. about a property over in Hackney Wick. They’d purchased a warehouse that they’d been converting into studio apartments for the artsy types that were taking up in the area. They’d almost finished development when the disturbances began.
With an icepack on his head and a hot cup of tea in his hands, George had insisted that he could do the research for us. Lockwood and I both told him to get back to bed and headed to the archives ourselves. After hours of tedious research, we discovered the warehouse had undergone months of rebuilding after it had been bombed during the Second World War. The warehouse had been operational during the bombing. Only half of the women working the assembly line survived.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Lockwood grinned at me and I felt that familiar tug on my insides.
“Are you thinking that this is going to be a total cluster case?”
Lockwood’s grin widened and his eyes glinted with mischief.
“Exactly that, Luce. This case is bound to be a thrilling adventure.”
His tone was almost gleeful despite the dangerous situation we were going to walk into—and with one man down. I rolled my eyes and did my best to ignore the flutter of excitement that mingled with the apprehension that always accompanied Lockwood’s enthusiasm for danger.
“Or get us killed.”
“Well, yes, there’s always that possibility.” His smile didn’t diminish. “But I know we can handle ourselves. What’s the worst that could happen?”
***
“Why did you say that!” I yelled at Lockwood as we turned a sharp corner of the remodeled warehouse’s pristine hallway at a dead run. The newly installed wooden planks squealed underneath our shoes as we tried to keep traction on the mirror-polished surface. Lockwood grunted as his worn trainers sent him careening into the exposed brick wall and he jarred his shoulder.
“‘What’s the worst that could happen?’” I said, quoting his words from the archives earlier that day while I attempted an exaggerated impression of the man who ran beside me. “Everyone knows that’s a surefire way to ensure the worst will happen!”
“How was I supposed to know that the mere sight of me would be enough to send a group of lady ghosts into a murderous frenzy and cut us off from our chains? And I don’t sound like that!”
“ I should have known! I want to murder you daily.”
“No, you don’t,” he said as we made our way down the hall and rattled the door handles we passed, looking for any exit out of another endless hallway with nowhere to hide.
“Oh yes, I do! Skull even tells me how I could get away with it.”
Lockwood shot me a playful smirk over his shoulder, despite the urgency of our situation. “Ah, but you’d miss me too much, Luce.” His voice held the same irreverent charm that had drawn me to him since the day we met. “Besides, Skull’s advice on murder is hardly reliable.”
Despite the surrounding chaos, Lockwood always had a way of lightening the mood, even in the direst of circumstances. But as we continued to search for an escape route through the maze-like corridors of the haunted warehouse, the gravity of the trouble we were in had my heart pumping harder than the running.
Right as a chill wailing filled the corridor behind us, Lockwood let out a triumphant whoop and grabbed my arm as I almost ran past the unlocked door he’d discovered. My speed and momentum sent me careening into the unknown space. Right when Lockwood’s grip threatened a jarring stop, he let me go. I stumbled a few more steps and stopped as Lockwood took a quick glance at the doorway.
“They haven’t installed the iron bars yet,” he said as he shut the door and turned to survey the room. “We must find a hiding place until the apparitions fade.”
I surveyed the studio apartment. It had the same mirror-bright, golden oak flooring as the hallway. A beautiful floor-to-ceiling arched window dominated the outside wall. The developers wisely kept the exposed brick. A simple bed and a wardrobe with a rustic finish furnished the sparse flat.
“How about under the bed?” I asked as I walked towards it, but Lockwood shook his head.
“Without chains, they could walk through it and we’d end up ghost-touched. The wardrobe’s better.”
“How is the wardrobe better ?” I surveyed the piece in question. I tried to see the salvation in it that Lockwood did and failed. It was too short for Lockwood to stand up in, and too narrow for the use of a rapier if we needed it. “There’s no way we’ll both fit inside!”
Lockwood walked over to it and tapped the decorative accents that classified the piece as rustic. “Iron finishes,” he said. “The Visitors will hopefully give it a wide berth. We can place our rapiers right outside so we can grab them at a moment’s notice.” The door opened with a click. Luckily, it was an armoire meant for hanging garments and didn’t have any shelves other than the one above the bar for hangers.
Lockwood unclasped his rapier belt and placed it in front of the cabinet, hilt closest to the doors and climbed inside. He flicked the tail of his coat into place as he settled. The wardrobe was just wide enough to fit his long, lean legs if he sat along the base with his back up against the side wall. But that still left one problem.
“How am I supposed to get in there?” I asked. The keening grew closer with every second that passed. I was running out of time.
Lockwood patted his lap.
“You have got to be joking,” I said, horrified.
“Luce, there isn’t time for a debate.”
I very much wanted to debate, but knew he was right. My face flushed as I unfastened my rapier and set it up the same way Lockwood had. The wailing grew nearer, just a couple of doors away. My arms pebbled with gooseflesh as the temperature dropped. No sooner had I gotten my rapier set than Lockwood grabbed my arm and pulled me on top of him.
It wasn’t a graceful landing.
I heard an oomph from Lockwood as I made impact. Somehow, I’d ended up on my side. Lockwood’s knee gouged into my lungs as he used his foot to catch the far door and swing it inwards. He pulled a similar move with his hand underneath the other door. The metallic latch caught both.
We were now in the dark, Lockwood’s knee in my gut, my feet propped halfway up the side of the wardrobe and my face against Lockwood’s stomach, dangerously close to his crotch. I was a folded up jack-in-the-box before the pop.
There was nothing I could do about my current circumstances because no sooner had the door latched shut than the cold became frigid and the wailing filled my ears. These Visitors said nothing. It was more a sense of general rage and fear that echoed through the horde. As much as I knew hiding here was the safest move, my current position made it impossible to defend myself.
The lining of Lockwood’s coat was silky and warm in my hand. I didn’t realize I’d grabbed it until that moment. I’d also buried my face further into Lockwood’s stomach. His offhand arm wrapped around my back, as if he could shield me from the rage outside of this tiny space.
The howling finally ceased, but the cold remained. The apparition was far from over. I hoped it would fade before dawn. Spending the night like this would ruin my neck.
The tension in the air dispersed and I let out an uncomfortable groan. My breath rustled the fabric of Lockwood’s shirt. I felt his muscles jump a little and then his arm left my back and I felt him fiddling with something in his pocket.
There was a click and then a faint light filled the armoire. I felt the rumble of Lockwood’s chuckle as he took in the sight of me, crumpled up and unable to gain the leverage I needed to correct myself.
“Doing alright down there, Luce?” he whispered.
“Do I look alright to you?” I whispered back and tried to glance up at him. I could only glimpse him partially through my eyelashes due to the angle. The pen light cast a chiaroscuro effect over Lockwood’s face.
I watched as the amused smile faded from his face as he looked down at me. There was something different about his eyes as he said, “You look…” He cleared his throat. “Alright, let’s get you sorted.”
His hands slid under my arms and he grasped my sides, pulling me up in a deadlift that somehow brought me even closer to him. My feet thumped along the base of the wardrobe, and I breathed a sigh of relief as the strain in my back and neck disappeared. I tried not to think about how easy it was for him to pick me up like I weighed nothing as we settled into our new position.
While more comfortable, our new placement was only marginally less awkward. I kneeled, or rather straddled, Lockwood’s lap. My skirt gathered practically up to my hips—thankfully I was wearing my thick tights—and Lockwood’s hands rested on my sides, his thumbs just below my breasts.
On more than one occasion, I’d fantasized about being in a position like this with Lockwood. Without the ghosts trying to kill us. Despite the precarious situation we were in, I found it very difficult not to think about how well our bodies fit together. Better than I’d imagined.
When we shifted, I’d placed my hands on Lockwood’s stomach. I felt the faint ripple of muscle underneath my fingers that belied his slender frame. The urge to trace my hands along the ridges I found there made me close my eyes and bite my lip to resist.
“Did you strain something?” Lockwood’s voice was quiet and so close . His warm breath tickled my ear and shot desire straight to where our bodies touched.
“No,” I said with a shiver.
“Cold?” His hands traced up and down my sides and while the motion warmed me, I also felt my knickers dampen.
“No.”
It was the fact that my denial came out more like a whimper that gave me away. Lockwood froze underneath me. His voice had a rough edge to it when he said, “Shit…Lucy…are you turned on right now?”
A flash of embarrassed heat overwhelmed me and I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter. “I’m sorry! It’s just…this position…it’s rather…um…sensitive. For me. And you lifted me like I was nothing. And when you whisper in my ear like you’ve been doing, it feels very…intimate. Please just do your best to ignore it.” I closed my mouth, realizing I was babbling.
There was a long pause.
“What if I don’t want to ignore it?”
“What?” I pulled back from the shock of his statement, opening my eyes to meet his for the first time since we’d been in this position.
Lockwood looked like Lockwood. Pale, dark eyed, with a perfect swoop of hair that fell over his forehead. Always put together, even hiding in a wardrobe. Yet, as I gazed at him, there was something undone about his expression. I’d never seen this look of his before. His typical rakish grin was gone. Heat flashed in the glint of his eyes. The whole of his focus was on me.
My breath quickened with my pulse under the influence of his intensity. His lips broke into a smile, but it was a new one to me. It promised carnal pleasures that surpassed any fantasy I had ever conjured.
“What if,” he said, his arms slid down my sides until he gripped my hips, “I’m turned on, too?” Until he said those words, I wouldn’t have believed that our proximity affected him. Then he did something that made his statement irrevocable. His hands pressed me down harder onto his lap and he pulled me forward and I felt how turned on he was. I gasped at how the girth of his hard cock pressed right where I needed it, even with the clothes between us.
“Do you enjoy feeling how badly I want you, Luce?” he asked, guiding my hips to move along the length of his shaft. His eyes were gravity wells, keeping mine locked on him as the movement sent sparks shooting up through my body.
“ Yes,” I answered as my hands roamed the ridges of his abdomen just like they’d wanted to moments earlier. Lockwood’s body relaxed at my touch as he took a deep breath in. One hand grabbed my wrist and the delicious rocking motion he’d been leading me through stopped.
“Do you want to stop?” he asked, face serious.
“Not even a little. You?”
“Stop? When I’ve been dreaming about being between your legs for ages? Not bloody likely,” he said, and I liked the way his voice had a growly quality to it.
“Now that’s sorted,” I said, daring to widen my knees so that I could sink down even the slightest bit further. I rolled my hips, and we both groaned.
“Fuck, Luce. Your hips are fucking amazing,” he said as his hands found their way back to them and he moved in tandem underneath me.
His words and the added pressure on my clit from his movement teased a wanton moan from my lips. I needed more. More speed. More contact. More words. More Lockwood .
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. One hand slid down his back while the other tangled in his soft, infuriatingly perfect hair. Our foreheads touched and our breath mingled in hot, unrestrained pants.
Lockwood, ever attentive, sensed my need for more contact. Or maybe he needed it himself, I couldn’t say, but he wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me in even closer. Our bodies touched at every point they could and yes, this was what I wanted. He traced his nose up my neck and his hot breath followed. Then he made a light nip on my jaw, right under my ear. It wasn’t painful, just the faint pressure of his teeth, but I could feel his smile against my skin. That mixed with the friction against my clit that we got just right and the feel of being enfolded in Lockwood’s embrace had electric tension building up in every atom of my body.
“ Lockwood ,” I whimpered with need.
“That’s it, Luce,” he said into my ear, “Come for me.”
My back arched, and the tension released in a rush so strong that I began to cry out until Lockwood pulled me back to him and covered my mouth with his hand.
“Shh, Luce, we wouldn’t want those Visitors to come back,” he said, rocking me through the aftershocks of my orgasm. “Though I’m glad to see that you know how to follow orders occasionally.” He removed his hand from my mouth and tangled it into my hair. His thumb rubbed the shell of my ear. I smiled at him.
“Only the ones I want to follow,” I said, my voice still breathless. While the tension in my body had ebbed, my desire to be close to Lockwood remained. I leaned in. Our foreheads touched. I breathed in his salt bomb and bergamot scent. It would be so easy to just lean in and touch our lips together. I felt the magnetic pull between us. Yet, as much as it pulled me towards him, I also felt the push of two sides of the same polarity. Something kept us both from bridging that divide.
I shifted, about to push through that resistance, but Lockwood’s head leaned back and hit the back of the wardrobe as he hissed a breath through his teeth. That’s when I noticed, despite having just experienced one of the most incredible orgasms of my life (not that there had been many), Lockwood remained fully aroused beneath me. My face flushed in embarrassment.
“Do you want me to…?” I asked, daring to trail my hand between our bodies and rub his length in my grip, making my intentions clear.
Lockwood’s eyes closed at my touch and I reveled in the low moan he made deep in his throat. But then his hand went around my wrist to stop me.
“I don’t love the idea of having to go home with sticky trousers.”
“Fair point, but won’t you be uncomfortable?”
He let out a half laugh and his smile was back with a gleam in his eyes so fond it was almost unbearable to look at. His hands cradled my face.
“Luce…getting to watch you come is worth a little discomfort.” Then he pulled my face in and kissed my forehead. It wasn’t the kiss I wanted, but strangely, it was the one I needed. I smiled back at him and then we were back to our old, pre-wardrobe orgasm selves.
“Do you feel any psychic presence?” Lockwood asked.
I stopped for a moment to Listen and shook my head. “No. It’s quiet.”
“Well, let’s go on and wrap this job up, then,” Lockwood said, kicking the magnetic latch open.
I climbed off him and back into the studio, not looking at Lockwood as I bent down to get my rapier and fasten it back around my waist. Lockwood groaned behind me and I contained a little chuckle at his expense.
The air in the apartment was still on the cooler side, and it soothed my overheated skin. My hand just touched the handle back to the hallway when Lockwood came up behind me and pulled me to him. His hands claimed me, one resting flat against my stomach and the other placed over my breast. Like it belonged there. He nuzzled my neck before sucking my earlobe between his teeth. I felt my knees go weak as I leaned back against him, enjoying the way his mouth set fire to every place it touched and the feel of his hardness against my ass.
He released my lobe and whispered right into my ear, his voice deep and husky. “Luce, when we get home, I’m going to make you come at least three more times tonight.”
“Is that a promise?” I asked.
“Yes, and I plan on exceeding your expectations. I don’t make promises lightly.”
“Looking forward to it, then.”
We opened the door, facing the ghost-filled world we had left behind, if only for a brief moment of pleasure.