To the casual observer, she was 'manager-appropriate'. All polite smiles as she leaned against the bar, sipping wine.

Inside, an inferno raged. 

Hijacked on arrival. Breathless fumbles in the cloakroom made her outrageously wet. God, so wrong, but she wanted him.

He'd tugged damp panties aside, finger-fucked her, then slid the vibrating egg into slickness and left her to straighten creased clothes.

Now he watched from across the room, thumbing the remote randomly as her stomach clenched and her cunt dripped.

Knuckles whitened on glass as she fought. Teetered. Pleading eyes found his as he smirked.

'Don’t come.'