“Yes, yes, yes, yes …,”

“We're leaving after this.”

“Okay.”

“I'm coming back to your hotel.”

“Okay.”

“You're going to blow me during the cab ride.”

“Okay.”

“If I want to finger fuck you in the lobby, you'll let me.”

“Okay.”

“Such a good girl.”

Misch shrieked, an orgasm pouncing on her, taking her by surprise. She let go of the stall door, all of her weight dropping onto his shaft, and that just intensified the feeling. Her arms were around his neck as she sobbed into his shoulder, every muscle she had clenching and unclenching. He groaned, managed to lower himself a little, then he drove his hips home one more time, as hard as he could, before he came, as well.

“Oh my god. Holy fucking shit. Oh my god,” Misch's lungs were begging for air.

“Lovely mouth you've got there,” Tal panted.

“Where did that come from!?” she asked, letting her head rest against the door.

“This damn dress, your damn legs. I couldn't help myself. I almost crawled under the table so I could eat you like you were the main course,” he told her.

“God, I wish you would've.”

“We've got time.”

Tal finally backed away from the door, helping her to stand as he went. Her legs felt like overcooked spaghetti. He cleaned himself up while she straightened out her dress. As he was doing his belt up, they heard something. A man, clearing his throat. Then the bathroom door opening and closing. The guy who had been there when they'd first stumbled in, he'd stayed for the whole show. Misch turned flaming red and Tal burst out laughing before he pulled her close, giving her a big kiss.

“I have to go back out there,” she said, her voice husky as she smoothed her tongue over his bottom lip.

“I know you do. To make your excuses, so you can leave,” he reminded her as he speared his hands into her hair, holding her in place.

“And what am I supposed to say? 'Sorry, have to go have sex, ciao'?” she laughed.

“Whatever. I don't give a fuck. Meet me out front in five minutes, or I'll come find you,” he warned her. Then he was moving out of the stall, adjusting his jacket as he went.

Misch stood there for a second, breathing heavy. What was wrong with her!? Over the last few days, she'd told herself that her little adventure-in-cheating was over, but then one look from him, one whisper, and she was pinned against a bathroom stall. He had a magnetic pull on her, something she couldn't deny. He wasn't a one-night-stand. She wasn't sure what he was, but he wasn't going away. And she was beginning to think that she didn't want him to go away.

You're already in trouble, you can't get in more trouble ...

Misch crept into the hallway, paranoid that she'd bump into her boss. Luckily, she didn't. Still. She felt like she'd been gone forever. She'd just been fucked stupid up against a stall in a bathroom. She wasn't wearing any underwear. Surely they would be able to tell, as if “cheater” was branded onto her chest.

Turned out, Tal had pounded her to an orgasm a lot quicker than she'd thought – when she got to her table, dinner was just being served. Everyone stood up, but she begged off, claiming a stomach ache. And a headache. And nausea. And a chill.

Might be overdoing it.

When she walked out of the restaurant, she didn't see Tal at first, and thought he'd played a cruel joke on her. She ran away from him after great sex, now he was running away from her after amazing sex. But she finally spotted him, standing on the corner at a four-way. Well away from the front of the restaurant. From where anyone would see him.

How thoughtful.

As Mischa made her way to him, she looked him over. He looked completely unruffled, it was impossible to tell that he'd just had sex in a public bathroom. Or maybe not – he kind of already had that look, just all the time. Tousled, wavy hair, sly smile, and a naughty glint in his eyes. He was pretty much every woman's fantasy. Or wet dream ...

What is he doing with me?

Maybe that was it. He was just so dashing, so sexy, that she was swept away with it. A beautiful man, paying attention to her. Wanting her, desiring her. It was a novel feeling. Something she hadn't experienced in a long, long time.

He was talking on a cell phone, but he stared at her as she approached. His dark eyes roamed over her body, and it was such an interesting sensation. Knowing that when he looked at her, he was picturing her naked. Not just picturing her, but knowing what she looked like naked.

When she reached him, he didn't get off the phone, but he wrapped an arm around her waist and began walking down the sidewalk, pulling her along with him. Her first instinct was to panic. He couldn't touch her like that, not in public! Someone might see them!

But then she relaxed. She was in another country. No one knew her. No one knew them. They probably looked like exactly what they were, a couple of people who had met in a bar and were going home to have some fun. She was already going to hell. Cuddling on a street wouldn't get her there any quicker.

I'd forgotten how good it feels just to be touched.

“No, no, I know ... I'll be there ... when do we …,” he was almost barking out his responses to whoever he was talking to. His voice was deep, and gravelly, and very serious. Sexy. She decided fuck it, if she was gonna be with a sexy man, she was going to show her appreciation. She walked on her toes, stretching up so she could lick at his neck, suck at the spot where it met his shoulder. He kept on talking, but his hand moved to her ass, squeezing it hard.