She wants me as much as I want her.
“Let’s go.” I lace my fingers through hers and start to pull her after me. Her expression is dazed and lustful, but she doesn’t hesitate to follow me.
“Wh—where?”
“Fifth floor,” I tell her. “There’s an empty conference room I spotted when I went to the men’s room.”
Sarah blinks. “Why did you go five flights up to find a men’s room?”
I don’t answer right away. I pull her out into the hall, then over to the elevators. The doors open right away and I pull her inside, grateful for the privacy when the doors swish shut behind us.
I turn to face her, pleased she hasn’t lost any of that lust-addled glow. My hard-on isn’t going away, either. I want her, she wants me, and this is exactly how it should be.
“I didn’t go to the fifth floor to find a men’s room,” I explain with the same matter-of-factness I’d use to describe my last meeting with the execs at Wyeth Airways. “I went to the men’s room to find a place to fuck you.”
“Oh.”
I hit the button for the fifth floor as my mouth finds hers. I kiss her hard and deep, hoping I’m not pushing my luck. There’s a fine line between dirty talk and outright crudeness, but hopefully I’m erring on the right side of the equation.
I’m sure of it when Sarah moans and kisses me back, tunneling her fingers into my hair. Cardboard and big poofs of netting keep us from pressing our bodies together, but we kiss like we’re starving for it. Like we’re teenagers discovering sex for the first time, eager to spend hours touching and kissing and stroking.
I kiss her deeper, giving in to my urge to be a little rough. To give her what her body is begging for. My body wants it, too, wants her.
I break the kiss but keep a firm grasp on the back of her neck as I lose myself in her eyes. “I know loofas and soap are designed to rub together, but I’m dying to get out of these costumes so I can touch you.”
“Me, too.”
She shivers as I kiss my way down her throat. I’ve just reached the top of her breasts when the elevator dings and the doors swish open. We spring apart like we expect to see a janitor there with a mop and a video camera, but it’s just the two of us. I take her hand and pull her out into the dimly lit hall.
“This way.”
I lead her down the hallway, practically sprinting for the room at the end of it. It’s less than a hundred yards from the elevator, but we barely make it there. We’re so desperate to touch each other that we stop halfway, legs tangling together as our mouths collide. I press her against the wall, kissing her until we’re both breathless.
“I’m feeling grateful right now for how you constructed this costume,” I tell her as I slide a strap off her shoulder. “Makes it easier to remove.”
She laughs and clutches at my hair as I kiss my way across her collarbones. “My girlfriends had the idea,” she said. “They’re the ones who stitched the netting on a dress that pulls on and off easily.”
“God bless your girlfriends,” I say, nipping at the tops of her breasts. “Come on.”
I lead her the rest of the way to the conference room, praying no one’s come along and locked the door since I discovered this place twenty minutes ago. My prayers are answered, and I push through the door and into the small, carpeted room. Moonlight pours in through a pair of skylights above the conference table, so I don’t bother hitting the lights.
I do flip the lock and push a chair up against the knob for good measure.
When I turn around, Sarah has boosted herself up on the conference room table. A slow smile spreads over her face, and she parts her legs. “I’ve never been licked by a bar of soap.”
I grin and walk toward her. “And I’ve never gone down on a body puff.”
I drop to my knees in front of her, grateful to see she’s already ditched her panties. Or maybe she wasn’t wearing any to start with. The thought makes my dick ten times harder. My mouth waters at the thought of tasting her again. I haven’t stopped thinking about that sweetness, remembering the way her slick walls gripped my fingers as she came in my mouth.
Wedging myself between her thighs, I drape her legs over my shoulders. Her pink lips part, soft and lovely, practically begging for my tongue. I’m dying to devour her, but I want to take my time. To keep the delicious tease going for as long as possible.
“Ian,” she pants as I exhale a slow, warm breath above her clit. I give the tiniest, softest lick imaginable, barely a graze.
But Sarah practically levitates off the table.
“Please, Ian,” she begs.
“Please what, Sarah?”
