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I sat up, took her face in both hands and kissed her.
She made a sound against my mouth like she’d been punched. Then she kissed me back, hard, fingers digging into my oiled shoulders, tongue pushing into my mouth like she was trying to climb inside me. Eleven years of it came out in one kiss.
The towel was gone. My cock was pressed against her stomach through her scrubs and she ground into it, gasping.
“Fuck,” she breathed, breaking away. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. We can’t.”
“We are.”
“Helen.”
“I know.”
She kissed me again anyway. My hands found her waist, slid up under her top, and she shivered as my oily palms ran over her ribs. She wasn’t wearing much underneath, just a thin cotton bra. I felt her nipples harden under my thumbs.
“Mark.” She was panting now, forehead against mine. “Mark, listen to me. I want you so fucking badly my knees are shaking. But Kelly’s next door and the walls are paper and I’m at work.”
I could feel her heart pounding through her chest. She was trembling all over, still pressed against my cock, rocking against it without meaning to.
“So what do you want?” I asked.
She looked down at where my hands were, under her top, cupping her tits. Then up at me. She licked her lips.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “Tell me what you want.”