Those images, the knowledge of the size of him, his fingers, and his dirty words have me delirious, my back arching away from the wall as I begin to engage in the only way I can as I fuck his fingers.
My skin feels electric—I’d forgotten how this feels—how all consuming, how irrelevant everything else is outside of this moment. I cry out, the sound echoing in the hallway, and then I bite the inside of my mouth to stop the sound. My breathing is rapid, my chest heaving, and I feel like my legs might give out as I press again and again into his hand.
‘Tell me yes,’ he growls, his thumb closing on my oversensitive clit. ‘Let me fuck you with more than my hands. Let me use my mouth.’
Would I let him? Could I do this without making things eternally awkward between me and Fin?
Then, as though the thought of her name could conjure her presence, I hear Fin’s voice from the end of the hall. Actually, it’s not so much her voice as her tinkling laughter before the screech of the bathroom door.
My body stiffens, cooling immediately. Kit must see as he pauses for a beat, his hand slowly slipping from my panties and falling to my hip.
‘We can leave separately,’ he says, tightening his hand a touch. ‘Meet later, or you can leave first. I’ll tell Fin you met someone.’
‘She’s not going to believe that. I haven’t told her about—’
The door screeches again. ‘She’s not in there,’ I hear Fin call. ‘Kit, is that you?’
I shake my head, not wanting to be caught. I won’t have any answers to her questions, and if I don’t smell like sex, I’ll look like I’ve been having sex even if his hand isn’t between my legs. Feeling all kinds of conflicted, I lower my arms and straighten my dress, unable to look at him again.
‘At least give me your number.’ I shake my head again, not able to find my words.
‘Kit?’ Fin sort of whisper-hisses again. ‘Is that you down there?’
Thankfully, she doesn’t appear to want to disturb what’s going on at the end of the hall—she obviously hasn’t realised I’m here with Kit. Thank goodness, I’m shielded by Kit’s massive frame even as he turns his head.
‘Give me a minute, would you, hen?’ His words are a little ragged around the edges, his accent a touch heavier.
She laughs nervously. ‘Yeah. No worries, ha-ha. I’ll, erm, see you inside. Oh, you haven’t seen Bea, have you?’
‘I saw her taking a call on her phone outside.’ As he lies smoothly, his amused gaze returns to me, but I’m too busy to appreciate the beauty of it as I freak out silently.
‘Oh. I’ll go see.’
I finally breathe again as Fin’s footsteps begin to fade then disappear at the end the hallway.
‘I-I’d better get back.’ My eyes are on the floor. I just can’t look at him. Not after I let him finger me in a dingy hallway. Plus, I’m all sorts of endorphin confused. All jelly legged.
‘You’re all right.’ His statement is more of a question, though his fingers tilt my chin and force me to look up at him.
‘I... it’s... thank you.’ The words make me feel sick. I’ve just thanked him for getting me off. Should I offer to reciprocate? Will he feel like I’ve used him? What’s the protocol here? All this nonsense runs through my head, though I can’t voice one word aloud. What about Fin and Rory? How would they feel about this?
‘God, it’s so complicated.’
‘It doesn’t have to be. Let me show you tonight.’ When I don’t answer—when I don’t look at him—he straightens, and his hand falls away.
I scurry around him and back into the club because fantasy and reality will always be two different things.
