They were both standing behind his desk, looking over menus. The day had seemed interminable, but at one o'clock in the morning, it was finally over.

"I don't know why I'm even bothering with these," he sighed, "I can hardly see straight anymore."

It was rare that he admitted exhaustion, but she agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment. She showed her commiseration with a wry smile.

"Well," he sighed mightily as he set the menus aside, "I can't say it was without a hitch, but it did come off alright in the end."

She nodded her agreement.

"And, as always, it wouldn't have come off at all if it weren't for you, Mrs. Hughes."

She expressed her surprise and disbelief with a dismissive smile and a wave of her hand.

He wouldn't let it go.

"No. Truly, Mrs. Hughes. No one could have managed as well." He nodded, trying to encourage her to take the compliment.

It was nearly impossible for her to resist teasing him when he was so earnest.

"That is high praise indeed, Mr. Carson," she said with hint of mockery. "You're getting a kiss for that."

Before he could even begin to process her remark, she reached up to place a hand on his cheek. She quickly brought his head down, needing only gentle pressure to move him. And kissed him lightly on his other cheek.

Astonished, he watched her walk away from him. She tossed him a cheeky grin over her shoulder.

"Mrs. Hughes!" His reproachful tone stopped her at the door.

"Mr. Carson!" she shot back with an unconcerned smile.

He paused. Something hot and angry uncurled in his belly.

"Do you consider it one of your duties to mock me?"

"Mr. Carson," she said soothingly, "It's too easy to tease you. Sometimes I simply can't resist." With her tone, she tried to convey that she meant no harm.

But he wouldn't be placated.

"Even though you know I hate it?"

"But I love it, Mr. Carson," she cajoled, making her argument sound as though it had just as much merit as his. "And to answer your question, no, I don't consider it to be part of my duties. More of a hobby, really."

He didn't know why her smile infuriated him more in that moment than it ever had. This certainly wasn't the first time she'd had complete mastery over a conversation of theirs.

"Right," he said. His face changed then. He seemed to have made a decision as he rounded his desk to come toward her.

An alarm bell clanged somewhere in the back of her mind.

"Since you seem to so thoroughly enjoy making sport of me, your colleague...your friend," he paused, noting with perverse pleasure the concern on her face, "perhaps it's time you felt what it is like to be...off-balance. To always be one step behind."

He'd only intended to kiss her cheek in repayment. To embarrass her. To show her that he could take what she could dish out. But during the short walk between his desk and her, he realized that that wouldn't faze her at all. She would probably make fun of him even more. Anger flowed through him as he stepped close enough to her that she had to crane her neck to look him in the eye.

Only pride kept her in place. The alarms were now a cacophony. She knew she'd gone too far. She didn't know why she had teased him so mercilessly that night, but she refused to retreat.

As he bent down, one of his hands flew to her jaw to hold her firmly but gently in place. It happened so quickly that she only had time to inhale with a gasp and press her hands against his chest. An echo of a thought flitted from her mind when he pressed his lips to hers. Perhaps she had placed her hands against him to push him away, but the idea vanished as quickly as it had come. She could tell his lips would be soft if he weren't so angrily pushing them against hers. When he slanted his head to slide his lips to fit more snugly with hers, his breath whispered across her face.

And she was lost.

She could have slipped away at any moment. Only one of his hands held her. His other hand hung clenched at his side. No part of him save his hand and his lips touched her. And as the seconds ticked away, she could feel his grip on her jaw soften. She could have pushed him away easily. But she didn't. Just as her fingers began to curl around his lapels, he pulled away abruptly. If she hadn't been pressed against his door, she would have lost her balance.

Frantically, he took in her stricken visage. It had been a contest of sorts and he'd won it definitively, tragically, irreversibly.

Alarmed beyond shame, he tried to repair what he'd done.

"Mrs. Hughes, forgive me. I don't know why — please forgive me."

She was nodding her forgiveness, her movements labored from trying to rein in the shaking that was controlling her body. After a moment, she was able to string a coherent sentence together.

"It was my fault, Mr. Carson. I never —"

"Oh, God," he groaned, putting a hand up to furiously scrub his brow. "Please don't. You bear no responsibility."

Almost in tears, she looked at his lips, swollen and red. Just as hers must look, she thought to herself. Deliberately not allowing herself a moment to think about her decision, she drew herself up, wrapped her arms forcefully around his neck, and kissed him. Hard.

She pressed herself against him and she could feel the shock of it course through his body. She was rougher than he was, giving back his anger and frustration with her body and her lips and her hands. Deliberately sliding her body against his, she moaned against his lips when she felt his hands frantically grasping her waist and his hardness pressing against her. With her hands on his face, she kissed him over and over again, executing her sudden plan to feel every part of his lips with her own. When her breasts started throbbing, she was able to pull herself away before she forcibly brought his hands to her chest.

Breathing heavily, not a hint of a smile on her face, she said,

"There. Now we're even."

With darkened eyes and shaking hands, he looked at her incredulously.

"Like hell we are," he ground out just before capturing her lips once more.

She whimpered her approval when he pulled her tight against him, thrusting his thigh between her legs and pushing her hips down to grind against it. And then, for the first time, he pushed his tongue between her lips. Granting him entrance to her mouth as rapidly as she could, she felt the familiar flush of her arousal building as he attempted to devour her. He pulled at her tongue, her lips while he lifted her skirts with one hand. His other hand was at her neck, fiercely pressing her into him. He was at the smooth skin of her thigh, roughly trying to unhook her stockings from her garter. Just as roughly, she pushed his hand away. She was narrowly holding on to the few shreds of control she had left. If he touched her sex with his massive, dexterous, erotic hands, she knew she would make him take her against the wall.

Unabashed, he removed his hand from under her skirts and grabbed a firm hold of her ass, pressing her harder against him. Shaking with need, she had to push hard to create some distance between them. Unable to reach her lips then, he tilted his head to attack her neck.

"Wait, wait," she breathed hoarsely.

He obeyed as well as he could, letting her go for the most part. Unwilling to break from her completely, he took one of her hands and held it to his mouth, worshipping her palm.

While she watched this arousing display, her words tumbled over one another.

"Come to me. Tonight. My room —" she broke off on a moan as he pulled one of her fingers between his lips.

"Will you? Will you?" she asked frantically.

The barest of pauses between her identical questions revealed her anxiety to him.

"God, yes! Yes," he whispered, pulling her to him again.

Relief made her knees turn to water. She pushed him away with a trembling smile. Just before she closed the door behind her, she whispered,

"Hurry."