Her face was red and she was laughing. She had just gotten away with a naughty indulgence, a sexcapade in the workplace, a surprise earth-shattering orgasm in the middle of an otherwise stressful workday. She seemed also in shock, her eyes locked into a distant stare while she filled silence with laughter. And a question. “What the fuck?”

Jasper held her head with both hands and laid a solid kiss on her lips. She felt so warm, the heat coming off her face like a cast iron skillet.

“Oh, my God,” she said, struggling to catch her breath, and then laughing again. “I made a mess, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did good.”

“Did good?” She arched her eyebrows and waited. But all Jasper could do was smile.

“You’re the one who did good,” she said. “Jesus Christ, what was that?”

“You, um . . . orgasmed.”

“Yeah I know, but . . .” She turned away from his glance, laughing quietly. “Jesus Christ . . .”

“I know,” he said, grinning again.

“Shut up,” she giggled, shoving his arm, the arm that reached back and grabbed hers.

He pulled her in and kissed, his tongue snaking inside her mouth before pulling away. “God, you were so hot.”

“I hope you liked that as much as I did.”

“I did. Maybe more.”

She laughed. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“I loved watching you,” he said, silencing her with a kiss on the lips.

“You’re gonna make me want more, you keep that up.”

“Keep what up?” he asked.

She smiled and looked at his crotch.

Yes, he’d been keeping that up. It felt like he’d been that way ever since his unhappily ended bed bath so many hours ago. The thought of it, and of her, and of his delayed reward had kept him stiff and throbbing all day, and especially during their latest adventure, had him having to fight the urge to remove his fingers from her and replace them with something else.

The sudden feeling of Fiona’s hand groping over his pants pulled him away from his latest fantasy. He looked at her face, which was no longer smiling, but blank with concentration and hunger. And then his eyes moved down to her hand, to where she was holding his cock through the thick fabric of his pants. Too thick, the contact too slight. He wanted skin on skin. He needed it.

Just as Fiona was about to unfasten his belt, the sound of someone opening the door froze them in place. The only thing on his mind at that point—a sudden departure from his cock and what Fiona was doing with it—was how thankful he was for the closed curtain that surrounded their bed. But how long would it stay closed?

Jasper huddled against her, the two of them clinging to each other in silence, waiting.

Did he have enough time to slip under the covers? And to do it quietly? They could revert back to their nurse–patient relationship, the flush-faced, post-orgasmic nurse tending to the bedridden Jasper and serving his needs. Maybe she could give him another bed bath. Maybe then it wouldn’t be all a show.

When Jasper made a move, Fiona grabbed his arm, her eyes widening.

Don’t. Move.

So he listened for what noise would come next, for the footsteps, for the curtain. But all he heard was the murmuring of voices in the hall, and then someone at the door saying something, and then the door—thank God—closing.

Fiona drew in a deep breath of relief, her shoulders slumping into him. And then she sprang into action, not returning to his crotch, but standing and yanking on his arm. It was the wrong member, but perhaps the responsible choice. And so he followed her, standing, fixing his clothing. She peeled back the curtains and together, without a word, rushed them toward the bathroom. Sanctuary.

“Stay here,” she said, grabbing a towel from the rack. “And stay quiet.” She left the bathroom with a towel and spray bottle of cleaning solution.

Jasper shut the door and waited. It wasn’t normal for him to be taking orders, but he liked it when they came from Fiona. And it was somewhat exciting to surrender control to her. It was, after all, her home turf. Behind the safety of the shut door, he sat on the closed lid of the toilet, waiting, and then listening hard when he heard someone enter the room. A woman’s voice. A quiet conversation with Fiona.

A moment later, the bathroom door opened to the beautiful sight of Fiona’s smile. She slipped in and closed the door behind her. Jasper had his hands on her body before she could even turn around to face him, his hips pressing up against her ass, his arms wrapping around and meeting her hands at her chest, hands holding hands, the taste of her neck in his mouth, his tongue gliding along it and stirring from her a gentle moan. It didn’t take long for them to find themselves in familiar, naughty territory, their traveling taboo thrill circus now having relocated to the bathroom.

“Bad boy,” Fiona said, her ass grinding into his erection as her hands fumbled to lock the door.

The door lock slid over with the quiet, satisfying thunk, signaling that they were finally safe to do their dirty deeds without further interruption—or so Jasper hoped. It was almost comical how many times he’d been driven to the edge and back. Almost. He’d been denied so many times that he now felt even less in control than normal, being more and more at the mercy of his animalistic need to plunge and destroy himself inside Fiona.

He wanted that now, more than anything. There was no mission, no quest to save the prince, no DARC Ops mandate. Only his one, true mission, which had finally begun with Fiona pressed up against the sink, her elbows resting on the porcelain corners, hands folded over each other across the sink, her head slumping down and resting on her arm, her legs spreading a little as Jasper grabbed hold of her pants and panties and ripped them down with savage urgency. And immediately, as her bare and smooth ass became exposed and available and beckoning so sweetly to him, he felt her invisible drug, the pheromones compelling him to act upon the urge he’d felt was so desperately necessary. And for such a long time coming, from earlier that day, and from years earlier, a reuniting of old lovers. A tight, slippery entry into the heat of her body.

Her quiet whimper, the tightening of her body, the way her muscles contracted madly around him as he entered, as he worked deeper and deeper, rocking harder against the plush ass of his sexy personal nurse with each stroke, his personalized caregiver finally letting him take control of the regimen. And take control he did, mercilessly. Clearly audible in the small bathroom was the sound of their hard breathing, her gently whispered “Oh God,” the quiet slapping sound of their bodies coming together, his into hers, his groaning into her ear as he hunched over her, as one hand took hold of her hair, firmly guiding her hips back against him.

Fiona kept talking, guiding him to just where and how she wanted it, her voice becoming more strained and unrecognizable until she dropped talking altogether to instead use her body. They communicated like that, their body language steering each to their unified goal as the paltry, insignificant semblances of time and placed melted away into a white-hot rush of feeling.

* * *

After the smoke cleared, they took a few minutes to collect themselves, although in the back of Jasper’s mind, he knew he was running on borrowed time. He also knew that this little indulgence, this vacation, this reunion, was just the very crest of the hill, the beginning of the slipperiest of slopes. And he was happy about it. Foolishly happy to gain momentum, to lose control with someone he’d so naturally and effortlessly trusted.

“Why do we always fuck in the weirdest spots?”

Jasper laughed at her, unprepared for her sudden levity. Until then, they’d remained silent, almost solemn at the near-religious experience they’d just conjured together. He was on the closed lid of the toilet, her sitting in his lap, her body wrapped in his arms, their heat almost unbearable. But to not touch, to break contact, would be unimaginable.

His phone rang.

He didn’t move.

“Goddamn real life,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Pretty soon I’ll be getting calls too. They’re probably already looking for me.”

“Am I getting you in trouble?”

“Yes,” she said, spinning around in his lap, straddling to face him, to kiss him. “Big bad trouble.”

He kissed her back, loving the taste and wanting more.

But she pulled back.

“Fine,” he said. “But I know what you’re doing after work.”

“You?” she said with a smile. But it quickly disappeared.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m just remembering how many shitty things I have to deal with until then.”

It was the most stressed out he’d ever seen her. Aside from their brief moments of escapism, or when he could manage a laugh out of her, or at least a smile, she seemed to revert back to an unmistakable heaviness.

“Hey,” he said. “You’ll do fine.”

She stood, stripped herself free of him. For Jasper, it felt utterly foreign.

“I’ve got your back,” he said.

She was stretching, like an athlete preparing for the start of something. “I know. I loved it.”

Jasper laughed. “I meant it like the figure of speech.”

She smiled. “I know.”

His phone rang again. Real life rushing back.

“I better get down to the lab,” she said, straightening herself up while looking in the mirror. “You’ll answer it when I call, right?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re in trouble.” She smiled at herself.

“Me too.”