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“Open the door and tell me that to my face.” I knock again. I think I’ve really messed this up completely. “Olivia.”

“Stop calling me that. Do you know how hard it is keeping my real name a secret? Fuck! Just stop!” She stops moving and it’s very quiet. “It was one night. Can we just let it be that and pretend we never met at all?” She pauses. “Please.”

The last plea is a whisper and it somehow hurts more than if she had kicked me in the nuts.

“Please open the door,” I ask her, the anger gone. There’s something about this crazy redhead that makes me, not me, or more me. I fucking don’t know. But I do know I want her, in all the ways there are. I stand there, defeated and silent, leaning against the door. She has to come out eventually right? Her car is coming, she’ll have to get through me to leave. I sit down with my back against the door, and right then a woman walks in, takes one look at me sitting on the floor and makes swift u-turn back out. “Was it really like that? The way you described it, is that how you felt?” I can’t stop thinking about it. Anger and shame aside, the way she described my feelings was so real I want to know if hers was the same.

“You’re not going to go away are you?”

“Nope.”

“Yes,” she sighs. “It was like that.” The montage of memories is playing in my head as I close my eyes and rest my head back against the closed stall door. “Did I get it right?” she asks. “For you?” How do I say yes without it being weird?

“You did.” It is weird. The silence is back, and I can hear nothing but her breathing and mine. The sound of the door latch makes me jump, just not in time, so I fall backwards on the floor as she pulls it open quickly. Olivia is standing over me, looking at me where I lie on the floor of a public toilet. Even from this angle she’s beautiful. I scramble from my spot on the floor, and stand, brushing my jacket. Now that we’re facing each other, I’m not sure what to say. My eyes move from her hair, down her face, and over the dips and curves of her body. She looks sexy as hell in her black lacy jumpsuit, and I find myself licking my lips.

Olivia inhales, drawing my attention to where the fabric of her outfit dips between her breasts. “What do you want, Harlan?”

“You,” I reply without much though. Because I don’t have to think about it. Before she can give me a rebuttal, or an excuse, I step into the cubicle, crowding her, and lock it behind me. One second, maybe two, passes and then I’m kissing her. She freezes, but that only lasts for a second. Then she’s kissing me back. Our mouths say what words can’t, and her body responds to mine the way it did that first, and only, night we were together. Her purse falls to the floor, and she pulls back, looking down. “Shit,” she mutters. I look down, and realize her purse is now between our stall, and the one next to us.

“You don’t need it right now,” I tell her, my voice rough. Desire has my blood pumping south. I thwart her attempt at stopping this in the name of getting her purse when I pull her closer — we don’t have much space, but I’m determined to make it work. Reaching behind her, I fumble for a zip, and she squeaks when I pull it down. “Harlan, don’t you dare ruin this outfit,” she says. “It’s—”

“Shut up, Olivia. Fuck the outfit.” I seal my statement with another kiss and start undressing her. And whether she knows she’s doing it or not, she’s reaching for my pants, trying to unzip me the way I am her. “Fuck,” I grumble. “This thing doesn’t want to come off.”

Olivia is faster than I am because while I’m trying to slip her jumpsuit down her arms, she reaches into my pants, my boxer briefs, and takes hold of my dick. It urges me on, and in my hurry, I accidentally tear something, but who cares? Because she’s not wearing a bra, and I can finally slip her clothing over her hips.

“No underwear,” I mumble.

“I hate panty lines,” she replies, squeezing my dick. “Don’t slow down, please.”

With that, my hand is between her legs, and I’m fucking de-lighted to find she’s aroused, wet and welcoming. I slide two fingers inside her, but only to make sure she can take me, all of me.

“Yes,” she whisper-hisses, parting her legs. She slips a heel from her foot, and we both fumble with our free hands to free one leg from her jumpsuit. That’s all we need. My suit pants drop to the floor, and the sound of my phone landing on the floor should deter us, maybe even slow us down, but it’s been too long, and I don’t care. We do the white man shuffle in the small space, mouths attached, and the problem we have becomes bigger than the space we’re in.

“Damnit, I need more space,” I gripe.

Olivia glances around, giggles, and then says, “Turn around.” With some effort, I do just that, and now it’s Olivia’s back that’s to the door. She pulls me by my jacket, hooks her leg around my hip, and I thank whoever made her wear heels because the single shoe she’s still wearing aligns us perfectly. Reaching between us, she takes my dick in her hand, slides it through her wet lips, and uses the leg around my hip to push me inside her. And damn if that’s not hot. I don’t have to do a whole lot, she’s in total control, but I’m not one to relinquish control that easily. Her mouth drops open and she sighs, “God, I’ve missed your dick.” Her candor is a turn-on. She’s about to say something else, but it comes out as a moan when I thrust, done with having her in the proverbial driver’s seat. The door rattles, and maybe I should be worried, but I’m too preoccupied with the feel of her taking me in, the feel of her holding my neck for leverage. Aware that I don’t have much time, I speed up.

“H-harlan,” Olivia stutters. “Y-you’re going to break the d-door.”

“I’d better hurry up then,” I exhale harshly, planting a hand beside her head on the door. My other hand is on her hip, then it’s on her ass, lifting her up just enough for her to rub herself on me while I thrust in, out, in, out — “I’m close,” Olivia breathes, then bites her lip. I lift her off the floor and she holds onto the top of the door, allowing me to fuck her like I want to. Now I’m rushed, and I’m chasing that high, the same one we chased together months ago, and — the bathroom door swings open the same time Olivia lets out a muffled scream, and I’m biting her shoulder to stifle my own growl. Our bodies shake, despite the “Oh, dear,” and the “Is someone having sex in that stall?” that comes from the other side of the door. A gasp, and then, “Harlan, is that you and Olivia?” I can’t even freeze at the sound of Birdie’s voice, I’m too busy coming, too busy feeling Olivia come.

“Okay,” Bird giggles. “Uh, I’m just going to put the sign outside that says the toilet isn’t working, so no one else, uh, interrupts you.” I think I’m nodding, even though Bird can’t see me, but then I feel Olivia’s chest shaking, and when I tilt my head, I notice she’s giggling.

“Oh, my God,” she wheezes. “Your sister just caught us having sex in a public bathroom.” She snorts, and almost loses her composure. “I need that in a book.”

The glint in her eye tells me she’s teasing, and since I don’t like being teased, I punish her by slowly sliding out, and pushing back in.

“Harlan—” is all she manages to say before we hear the crack. Her eyes widen just as the door gives way, and I twist to break her fall, landing on my shoulder with her draped over me. And yes, my dick is still inside her. I grunt, feeling the pain from the hard floor.

“Are you okay?” Olivia asks, trying like hell not to laugh.

“Fine,” I choke out. “Please wear a dress next time.”

At that, she loses it, and starts laughing from her belly. It’s a stunning sound, so honest and real.

“I think it’s time to go,” I tell her, looking around for my phone and her purse, both of which are on the floor.

“I think so too,” Olivia replies, looking up. “But you’re helping get this thing back on. I’m pretty sure you tore it somewhere.”

I glance at her, brushing some hair from her face, and shrug. “It was worth it.”

We manage to make ourselves presentable, and after banning Olivia from wearing another jumpsuit for life, I see where I tore it, and offer her my jacket to hide it. Unfortunately, there’s no way to leave without being seen and I expect Olivia to shy away from the attention, but she surprises me when she walks like a woman who just got laid in a public bathroom and is smug about it. And all I can do is follow her lead because yes, I’m the lucky fucker who got laid in the public bathroom and I’m just as smug.

Thank you and goodnight, I think to myself, an honest to God smile on my face.