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I took her hand and pulled her off my lap, grabbed both our towels, and led her down the narrow staff corridor behind the sauna that I’d spotted when I came in. Past the laundry carts. Up the back stairs. Two flights, giggling and dripping, in towels that barely covered anything, into Room 214.
I locked the door and turned round and Kat was already pushing me against the wood.
“Rule one,” she said, her voice rough, a hand flat against my chest. “Nobody knows. Not Gareth. Not Tamsin. Not a soul.”
“Rule two,” I said. “We both come first.”
“I’ll take that.”
She dropped to her knees on the carpet, pulled my towel open and put her mouth on me. I banged my head on the door. She licked me, long and wet and hungry, her fingers digging into my arse, and I fisted both hands in her hair and fucked her mouth until my legs gave out.
She carried me to the bed. She’d always been strong. She laid me down, spread me wide, and slid two fingers in while her mouth worked my clit, and I came for her twice, three times. Then I pushed her onto her back and put my face between her thighs and made her come until she couldn’t speak.
At dawn, she lay with her head on my belly and said, “Monday, I’m still going to beat you to the Hargreaves account.”
“Not if I get there first.”
“Good,” she said. “Hate me at work. Come to my flat afterwards.”
I’ve never kept a secret so well. Or looked forward to a Monday so much.
Ending 7 of 16: Our Secret. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.