One hand reaches down, gathering the silk of her dress, the fabric sliding easily up one pale, creamy thigh. He slips a hand up her leg, exposing her shoes, tall, strappy stilettos that look as sharp as her tongue and just as sexy.
“Is this okay?” he asks, pressing his head against the wall above her, trying to catch his breath.
“Mmmm, don’t stop,” she breathes.
She whimpers against his chest when his fingers find the soaked lace between her legs, doing nothing to hide how much she wants him.
He groans as he runs a finger down the length of her panties, feeling her softness. Her hips jerk forward, back arching, hands flying to his hair and gripping tight.
He fucking loves that—the feel of her pulling him closer, at the helpless way she rocks her hips against him. The power of it, ofhaving this tiny, tart-tongued siren so completely undone for him, unravels every scrap of patience he has left.
But when one of her small hands reaches into the waist of his pants, he grasps her wrist gently, halting her before she can get her hands on him.
“Not here,” he breathes into her hair. “You might scream.”
She laughs, but it abruptly turns to whimpers as he teases her through the fabric of her panties with slow, whispering strokes that have her legs trembling.
“More,” she gasps, thighs falling apart wider. Her enthusiasm makes his cock throb, but this moment is not about him.
Happy to oblige, he tugs aside the flimsy fabric and strokes her, dragging two fingers lightly across her wetness.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he rasps. Her nails dig into his neck as she clings to him, holding herself upright as she rocks her hips, desperate for more friction. He increases the pressure, circling her clit, learning her reactions. He watches completely rapt as her eyes nearly roll back in her head at the long push of his fingers inside her, first one, then another, filling her completely.
He works her steadily, patiently, wanting to watch every layer of that sarcastic, sharp-tongued exterior come apart under his hands. She moves against him with abandon, grinding against his hand, breathless and gasping, her moans turning frantic as her pleasure climbs higher. He doesn’t let up. He wants her to come like this, undone by him, clawing at his chest and rendered speechless. Her bravado and sass melted into a puddle at his feet.
Her cries are raw and desperate, muffled against his chest, her body clenching tight around his fingers as her orgasm hits, her hips jerking against him as he gathers her in his arms and holds her through it.
Garrett watches as she collects herself, her serrated breathing the only sound in the coat check besides the tinkling of glasses and laughter filtering in.
He dips his head and kisses the curve of her jaw, the apple of her cheek, the top of her head. He wraps an arm around her andfeels her burrow in, hiding her face like she’s trying to block out the world with his lapel.
Then she exhales, shaky but steadier, and pulls back to cover her face with both hands. Her cheeks are red. Not just flushed—blazing. She glances around, as if only now realizing she’s just been ravished in a closet full of wealthy old ladies’ fur coats and umbrellas.
“I can’t believe we did that,” she mutters.
Garrett smirks, lazy and satisfied.
“I can’t believe you let me.”
She shoves his shoulder with the force of a kitten. “Don’t look so pleased with yourself.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “AmIthe one that’s pleased?”
Her flush deepens. She lets out a tiny, whimper. Somehow, it only makes her more adorable.
Garrett files the image away for later. For the next time she mouths off.
“Keep pretending you hated it,” he murmurs. “It’s cute.”
That gets her. Her eyes flash—wary, flustered, a little feral. Like she’s just remembered who she was kissing. And that realization sobers her up fast.
“This was a temporary lapse in judgment,” she declares. “Like bangs.”
He snorts.
She clears her throat and straightens her dress, tugging the complicated straps back into place and trying to fix her hair, which is deliciously, gloriously wrecked. She’s flustered in a way Garrett’s never seen.
She points vaguely at him. “You’re— Are you gonna…?”
