Page 6

“Don’t take them off,” I whispered against his lower lip. “Slide them aside.”

He moaned as I finally got his zipper down and held him in my hand. He was warm, and hard, and throbbing; ready.

I sat on top of him, sliding onto him without a moment of preparation. I didn’t need it, and neither did he. The exultant sound he made as he slid into me set my skin alight with pleasure. He slid his hands into my t-shirt, pulled it over my head, and tossed it aside. I wrapped my hand around his mouth, pressed my cheek against his, and sighed into his ear as I found my rhythm.

There was nothing glamorous about fucking in a nightclub bathroom, but there was something primal about it. Maybe it was the musky, heady aromas in the air, or the cracked tiles, or the writing on the inside of the bathroom stalls. Everything about this was about as wrong as it was right.

I heard someone else come into the bathroom while I was riding him. Whoever it was started instantly giggling and whispering. This wasn’t their first rodeo, and it wasn’t ours, either.

He shoved his foot against the stall door to keep it closed while I bucked, and panted, and loved every second of what was happening right now. I was so close, so close, the friction of our hips pressing together almost enough to bring me to the point of climax, if only he could—I felt him tighten, heard his breath hitch, and when he grabbed my hips and held me firmly against him, I knew, he was done.

I gasped against his ear as he let loose.

Tingles.

There was a moment, then, when I worried I wasn’t going to get there, but then he kissed me, and he worked his hand into the warm space between us. With his fingers he brought me to climax. It was quick—I was already almost there—and when I was done, he kissed me again.

“Good?” he panted against my mouth.

“Too good,” I said.

“There’s no such thing.”

“There is,” I whispered, “That’s why we can’t do this again.”

Chapter

Three

Ishould’ve probably waited to tell him we wouldn’t be doing this again until after he had pulled out of me, but the moment had felt right.

Kind of.

I don’t know.

Maybe I was an asshole, but the fact was, I couldn’t see him again. He was bad for me. So, so, so very bad for me. I couldn’t count the number of times we had snuck out here to do this. I couldn’t remember the first time we had done it. I didn’t even know his name. He was just Him, and I was just Her.

“What?” he whispered.

I could still feel him inside me. The bomb I had just dropped on him hadn’t seemed to dull his… excitement.

“It’s nothing personal,” I said. “Actually, could you… do you mind?”

It was an awkward dismount, to say the least. He wanted to talk, and I knew that, but I didn’t want to linger in that cubicle any longer than I had to, so I grabbed some paper towels and my shirt, and made a quick escape.

I was washing my hands and putting my t-shirt back on when he caught up with me.

I almost couldn’t look at him.

“How is it not personal?” he asked.

“Okay, maybe it is,” I said, “But we don’t know anything about each other, and you’re way too good at this.”

“So, you want to know my name, now?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” I shut the water off and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. I could see him standing next to me, but I didn’t look at his reflection. Not directly. “I can’t keep sneaking out like this, anyway.”

“What changed?”