Come find me.

Bold man. Brash man. He was supposed to be a one night stand. He should just fade away. Isn't that what men wanted? A night of no strings attached, anything goes sex? Apparently not that man. Well, that's what she wanted. Nothing more. Right? Right!?

Come find me.

She didn't want to be that woman. The woman carrying on an illicit affair. Acting scandalous while her husband was oblivious in another country. How wretched. How horrible. How cliché. She didn't want to hurt Mike more than she already had; it would be bad enough telling him everything that had happened. Did she really want to add more sins to the pot?

Come find me.

“Excuse me,” Misch murmured, shoving her way out of the booth. Appetizers had just been delivered. She had a while before dinner. She smiled her thanks as she walked away from the table.

Come find me.

The decision had been made, she'd had no say in it. Resistance was futile. Tal had flipped a switch, and she was revved up and pointed in one direction. His direction. There was no other course of action, no option. She couldn't see anything but him, couldn't think past him.

Mischa slowly strolled past the bar, trying to look like she wasn't looking. But he wasn't there. Despite having features that made it look like he'd been born and bred on the Mediterranean, Tal actually stood out a lot. Maybe his height, maybe his smile. Most likely the sex-god vibes that rolled off of him.

As she headed into a dark hallway, she glanced back across the restaurant. He didn't seem to be sitting at any of the tables. She ran her fingers through her hair and made a beeline for the bathroom. She could go in there and dunk her head in a sink full of cold water. Get her priorities straight. Remember who she was, and what that night had been all about; fulfilling a very bad fantasy. Not continuing it. She just needed to remember that.

But she never made it to the bathroom. An arm reached out of the darkness, grabbing her. Pulling her into the shadows. She was pushed against a wall and a tongue was pushed into her mouth. She raked her fingers up his chest, working her hands under his jacket.

What was I supposed to remember?

“I thought you said this was over,” Tal breathed against her.

“I thought it was,” she replied, nibbling on his earlobe.

“It's not.”

“No.”

He yanked her up against him and shuffled them down the hall. They burst into a room and she was put back up against a different wall. She gasped and moaned, yanking his shirt out of his pants. His own hands weren't idle, they moved over her body, massaged her breasts, then went back to her panties.

“Scusi!”

Misch's eyes flew open, and over Tal's shoulder, she saw a man standing with his back to them. He was looking over his own shoulder, his face very red. Probably because he was peeing – he was standing in front of a urinal. They were in the men's bathroom.

Slut.

She wanted to push Tal away, to tell him to stop, to ask to go somewhere else. But he had two fingers thrusting in and out of her, so thought was pretty much not an option. She pressed her lips together, pulled them between her teeth and bit down to keep herself quiet, and tapped him on the shoulder.

It was the least she could do.

“I'm very sorry, sir,” Tal chuckled, glancing at the man once before staring back down at Misch. “You see, my lady friend here is very wet, and really wants to be fucked. You understand how it is.”

The man prattled something in Italian, and Tal actually laughed. Misch couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe what was going on.

Tal wrapped an arm around her waist and actually picked her up that way, hugging her body to his, his hand trapped between them. He moved them into a stall, shoved her into a corner, then slammed the door shut behind them.

Misch had never felt so charged up in her life. She didn't even question what was going on, didn't even ask what to do. As he ripped his belt apart, she wiggled her panties over her hips. Dropped them to the floor. Kicked them into a corner. By then, Tal had shoved his pants down his hips, and they met in the middle of the stall, pushing each other around in their want and desire.

He braced her against the door. She kept an arm wrapped around his shoulders and stretched out her other arm, pressing her palm against the wall. As her legs went around his waist, his hand worked between them, guiding her onto his dick. It was that same sensation, of too uncomfortable. Too full. Too much. Too perfect.

“Oh, god, you feel so perfect,” she moaned, struggling to keep her ankles locked behind his back as he moved up and down. Back and forth. Rocked her world.

“I had to feel this again. I had to,” he told her, picking up the pace.

“I'm glad.”

He began pumping so hard, the door started to bang in its hinges. She cried out and let go of his shoulder, moving her hand to grip the top of the stall, holding herself up a little for him. This allowed him to remove one of his arms from around her waist, and his hand immediately went to her chest. He yanked at her dress, pawed her breast out of her bra, then cupped it in his hand. Lowed his mouth to it, sucked on her nipple.

I've never had sex in public before …

In the back of her mind, Misch knew she should be quiet. Anyone could walk into the bathroom – including her boss. Or a waiter. And there was a restaurant full of people right outside, potentially listening to every screech, every cry, every groan coming out of her mouth.

Keeping quiet was definitely a failed mission.

“Mischa,” Tal grunted her name, licking a trail up the side of her neck.