16. Luka #3
It’s messy. Urgent. Stupid. Exactly the kind of thing I should have enough control to avoid.
I don’t.
She feels too good.
I move to her other breast, pulling the bra down farther, taking her nipple into my mouth while my hips keep a steady pace. Harder now. Deeper. Her thighs tighten around me, and she buries her face against my neck to muffle herself.
Outside, footsteps pass.
We both freeze again.
My cock is still buried inside her.
Her chest rises and falls against mine.
The footsteps slow.
For one second, neither of us breathes.
Then they continue down the corridor.
Nina’s nails bite into my back. “I’m going to kill you,” she whispers.
“Later.”
I start moving again. This time there’s no patience left.
I grip her hip with my good hand and fuck her harder, keeping her pinned to the shelf, my mouth back on her breast, sucking her nipple as she starts to shake around me.
She’s close. I can feel it in the way she loses rhythm, the way her legs lock tighter, the way her breathing breaks no matter how hard she tries to control it.
I lift my head and kiss her.
“Come,” I say against her mouth.
She shakes her head once, like she’s angry that I can tell.
I thrust harder. Her body gives in.
She comes silently at first, mouth open against mine, then with a soft broken sound I swallow before it can carry. Her pussy clenches around me, tight and pulsing, and I have to brace myself against the shelf as pleasure rips through my own control.
I come hard, buried deep inside her, teeth clenched to keep from making a sound that would ruin both of us.
For a while, we don’t move.
The closet is too hot. Her blouse is open. Her bra is pushed down. My trousers are barely on. A packet of paper towels has fallen against my shoe.
Nina opens her eyes slowly and looks at me. “You,” she whispers, breathing hard, “are a workplace hazard.”
I rest my forehead against hers. “File a report.”
“I will.”
“With whom?”
Before she can reply, I lean in and kiss her.
When I pull back, she is flushed, breathless, and glaring.
“I hate this coffee room,” she says.
I withdraw my hand carefully and fix her underwear. “No, you don’t.”
“I do.”
“Then avoid it.”
“You followed me here.”
“And I will do it again.”
Her face goes hot. “You are not supposed to say things like that at work.”
“I’m your employer.”
She closes her eyes for a second. “God, you are such a problem.”
I help her down from the counter. Her legs are unsteady for one step. She tries to hide it by reaching for the coffee cup.
The cup’s cold now.
She looks at it like it betrayed her.
I reach for a napkin and clean my hand while she smooths her skirt and fixes her blouse in the microwave reflection. The whole thing is absurdly domestic for what just happened.
I wait in the closet for thirty seconds because Nina points at me like she will physically fight me if I come out too soon.
She leaves first, smoothing her skirt, coffee cup in hand, face composed enough to fool most people.
It would not fool me.
Her mouth is swollen. Her blouse is buttoned correctly, but one side of her collar sits higher than the other. Her hair is no longer neat. She looks like trouble and denial.
I wait until the coffee room door closes behind her.
Then I step out of the closet, fix my jacket with one hand, and check the hallway through the frosted glass.
Empty.
My shoulder hurts like hell, my shirt is wrinkled, and I can still feel her thighs locked around me. I should be thinking about Alina. Karpov. The garage. The internal access breach.
Instead, I’m thinking about Nina trying to stay quiet with my mouth on her breast.
I make it four steps before Nina appears again from the side corridor.
She must’ve circled back from the pantry exit. Her coffee cup is still in her hand. She has recovered some of her attitude, which is safer than the softness I saw in the closet after she came apart against me.
“Mr. Kazan,” she says.
Her voice is too formal.
I stop.
She stops too, leaving several feet between us because the hallway is open, and staff move around us with careful, deliberate blindness.
“What?” I ask.
Her eyes flick past me, making sure no one is close enough to hear. “Misha is staying with me for a couple of days.”
Everything in me goes still.
I keep my face calm. “When did that happen?”
“Yesterday, after you left,” she says.
She steps closer, lowering her voice. “He asked if he could crash at my place. He was acting strange.”
“How strange?”
“Jumpy. Secretive. Looking out of windows. Doing that thing where he pretends he’s fine but looks like he has swallowed a bomb. But that doesn’t matter. I have to talk to you something, something I should have discussed before...” She clears her throat. “Well before we got distracted.”
I smirk. “Yes?”
“For this to work, we have to set down a couple of ground rules,” she says solemnly.
I raise a brow.
“Ground rules?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“You are giving me rules.”
“I am.”
“In my building?”
“Especially in your building.”
My mouth almost curves. “What kind of rules?”
Nina steps closer, eyes bright, voice low enough that only I can hear.
“The kind you’re going to hate.”