my forehead rest against his, our eyes locked as I grin.
“Hmm… Well if it involves getting to see what’s under your uniform, I am definitely willing to pay.” His hands wander down my sides, wrap around my hips. Our breath mingles between us, barely an inch of air separating us. I want to close the gap so damn badly. I want to press my lips to his, taste him.
Instead, I decide it’s time to give him a taste of his own teasing medicine. I push out of my seat and stand, snatching my phone on the way up.
“See you soon,” I tell him with a wink, and then I wind my way down the hall toward the restroom.
It’s free, so I step inside and maneuver in front of the mirror. For a pub bathroom, it’s really not too shabby. It’s clean, well-kept. I cast a glance at the door and decide to get this over with quickly. Luckily, I wore my favorite bra today, mostly as a private mood-booster this morning when I was exhausted and trying to force myself out of bed. It’s red and lacy and lifts my girls to just the right height, giving me a hint of cleavage without going overboard. I pull my dress off, so I’m just in my panties and bra. I snap a photo in the bra first. I hit send on that, then hesitate, glancing at myself in the mirror.
I’ve sent nude pics to guys before, of course. But only guys who I’ve been dating for a few months. Guys I trust. And not even many of those. It’s a lot to ask for a guy I only just met. I’m all too aware of what can happen to girls who aren’t careful, who send nudes to guys who suddenly decide they want to take revenge on those same girls later.
But I’ve known Zayne for years, even if not intimately. And besides, he works in the same place where I live. He’s not going to risk his position to mess with one of his customers, is he?
That makes me pause.
Customer. I am basically his customer. Or his boss, depending on how you look at it. He works for the building, which means he works for the residents, which means he works for me. Is this weird? Is this too much of a business relationship for me to turn it into anything more?
And what if the flirtation goes south? What if this leads nowhere, or worse, leads to a few hookups and a bad split? I’ll have to pass him every single day on my way in and out of the building. Constantly being reminded.
Then again, we’ve come this far. I have photos of his cock on my phone. I’ll be constantly reminded no matter what happens now. I might as well take the leap into the deep end since I’ve already gone and gotten myself wet.
I grin at myself in the mirror, amused by the analogy. My phone buzzes.
That’s not what I asked for, Zayne says, and don’t I know it.
I unclasp my bra and let it slide down my arms. Take a deep breath, face myself in the mirror, and snap another photo. In this one, I’m grinning, just a little, sultry and sexy all at once. And my tits are on full display, nipples hard from the cool air in here—and from the thought of who is about to see this picture.
I hit send. Then I start to lift my bra back on.
That’s when the door opens.
I gasp and drop my phone into the sink, startled. Shit, I forgot to lock it.
But when I see who it is, I freeze in place.
Zayne turns the lock behind him, a wide grin on his face. “I have a policy about open doors,” he says.
“What’s that?” I ask, lifting my chin. Trying desperately to pretend that I’m not standing here topless in a public restroom, staring at one of the hottest guys I’ve ever known.
“I always walk through them if I want what’s on the other side.” With that, he crosses the restroom in a single stride and catches my chin in one hand, wraps his other arm around my waist. Next thing I know, his lips collide with mine, and I forget that I’m half-naked, forget where we are.
I forget everything but Zayne.
His mouth parts, and his tongue invades. I let him claim me, twine my tongue with his while our hands roam across each other’s bodies. I run one hand