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Two excruciating hours crawl by, and I can’t even say for certain what I spent the time doing. Unable to stand the quiet any longer, I grab my keys and head for the bar. Once inside, I’m met with the usual smells of beer, the laughter of friends, and an endless stream of chatter. None of that matters to me, though, and I scan for the reason I came.
There, behind the bar, is Isla—my Isla—pouring drinks with the same effortless grace that she slipped into my life with. She doesn't see me at first; her focus is on the patrons demanding her attention. But when our eyes finally meet, I see it—the flicker of surprise, the flush of heat that creeps up her neck. Isla, beautiful Isla, is blushing.
I make my way over to her and sit down.
“Walker,” she says, her voice steady, almost playful, and I want to take her right here, right now.
“Keep up the good work,” I say, my voice rough before I retreat to my office. The need for her a physical ache that won't be ignored. Not here, not now. I close the door behind me and lean against it, the cool wood doing nothing to ease the hunger blazing through me.
Just thinking about the heat of her gaze across the crowded room wakes something primal within me. The way her cheeks colored, I knew she was remembering last night, just like I was. But is it stuck on repeat for her, too?
My breath is ragged, my heart slamming against my chest with the force of a hammer. How the hell am I going to manage work and all my responsibilities when my body acts like a horny teenager every second of every day thanks to her?
I hear the door open and she slips in, her wide eyes on mine as she locks the door behind her. That simple gesture has me groaning internally. Does she know what she does to me? Her eyes are wild with excitement, and when she closes the gap between us and presses her lips to mine, I know we’re both in trouble.
“Dammit, Isla,” I growl against her mouth, hoisting her onto the desk with rough hands. I pull her pants down her thighs, leaving the cute lacy underwear in place. My hands roam under her shirt, then drop to free myself.
I’m pushing into her without pretense, without gentleness, and her arms wind around me as a sound of pure pleasure escapes her lips. I don’t want to think about the fact that I’m taking her right here, at work, on the desk in this tight office, but here we are.
Her head tilts back, her lips pressing together in a desperate attempt to keep quiet. But I wouldn’t mind if someone heard – I want the world to know she’s mine.
“Walker,” she whispers, excitement filling the sound.
I grab the hair at the back of her head and pull, pressing my lips down on hers with a force and hunger I’ve never experienced before her. The kiss is a clash of power and surrender, and she clings to me, her movements as frantic and desperate as my own as she races toward orgasm.
I feel her tighten around me, that fluttering feeling so intense I can’t hold back my own.
“Thank you, Walker,” she says afterwards, her voice delicate and amused. As she bends down to pick up her pants, the curve of her ass has me hard again, ready to go.
“Christ, Isla.” The words escape in a rough growl. She looks over her shoulder at me, as if unaware, then picks up her pants and turns to me, a slight curve at the corners of her lips. As she pulls them on, rocking her hips and making me want her all the more, I can’t take my eyes off her or force my thoughts away from all the things I want to do to her.
This need for her—it claws at my insides like a beast with insatiable appetite. And as I watch her unlock the door and slip out, I have to wonder if this is all some dream. Or maybe I’m dead and didn’t wind up in the burning place by some miracle.
I scan the boxes with my phone, counting inventory because it’s such a mindless task, but one that needs done and keeps me away from Isla.
Deep in an almost mediative state, I continue, until I see movement and Isla steps into view like a dream come to life.
“I didn’t know you were back here,” she says, her tone playful and light.
Our gazes lock—a moment of charged electricity—and she smiles. My hands freeze mid-count, my focus splintering as she weaves among the crates and boxes, trailing her fingertips along them with a casual intimacy that gets my pulse racing as I remember what those fingers felt like around me.
“These all got rearranged,” she murmurs, more to herself than to me. The complaint carries no weight; it’s just an observation and a convenient excuse to take her time.
“What are you looking for?” I ask, my voice steady despite the turmoil brewing within.
“Belvedere,” she replies without looking up, her hand already resting on the box right beside her—the one she needed. But she doesn't move to take a bottle. She lingers, turning to face me instead, her gaze filled with a silent dare. Does she realize the game she's playing?
“Found it,” she says, but there's a challenge in her eyes that pulls me closer.
In three strides, I'm next to her, and our bodies are a breath apart. Tension tightens the muscles of my body and without hesitation, my lips find hers, an act as natural as breathing now. She responds immediately, her body arching toward me as if shoved closer by some outside force.
My fingers slip beneath the waistband of her pants, parting her delicate flesh and sliding along the slick evidence of our previous encounter. As I trace circles over that sensitive spot, she shivers, a soft moan muffled by our deepening kiss. I’m not about to stop – I want nothing more than to bring her to the edge and watch her experience pleasure once more.
Isla melts into me, surrendering to my touch. With every movement, I'm staking a claim, intensifying her need just as she brings out the insatiable hunger for more in me.
But reality claws at the edges of our bubble—a reminder that we're at risk of discovery. The risk heightens the thrill, but I think the consequences are too steep a price for either of us. We don't need to get caught. Not now, not ever.
My fingers move, tracing patterns that draw gasps from her lips. The intensity in her eyes leaves me wondering if I’m as obvious in my need and desire for her. I kiss her again and as my tongue explores the sweetness of her mouth, I feel her pulse quicken.
