Lisa

The two days after our encounter in Jennie's apartment are frenetically busy. Thanks to the Jung case, we work late into the night—and so does Marcus. He hangs out in his office until we leave, and Jennie seems skittish, unwilling to take the risk of screwing in her office, even less so the risk we took in doing it in the bathroom in the full light of day. I'm not sure why it's risker having one guy around than a whole office full of people, but Marcus does tend to give me the creeps.

When Jennie orders me to leave with her on Friday night, making my neck prickle, at first I think we must be going to her apartment again. Maybe I should object to that. I don't want to.

But when we're riding the elevator together down to the garage, I learn pretty quickly that that's not it.

As soon as the door closes, Jennie turns to me with a foggy, desperate look. There are no cameras in here, the security guy said. I'm on her in a heartbeat, pressing her back against the wall and kissing and kissing her while she groans and trembles for me. My hand slides underneath her skirt. Her inner thigh is so soft against my fingertips.

The elevator stops, and we jerk apart just in time for the doors to open. It would be no cover at all if anyone were actually standing there to see us, but luckily, we're alone in the parking garage.

A parking garage in downtown Atlanta isn't necessarily the safest place to get it on, and yet, as I look at Jennie's trembling body, I wonder how in hell we're supposed to wait and go anywhere else.

Turns out we're not. "My car," Jennie chokes, glancing over at the parking spot reserved for her Lexus. "Just—quickly—"

No, it's not the best spot in town, but all I can think is thank God as I follow her to the car, where she opens the rear passenger door. Then I remember there are probably cameras here, even if the elevator has none. I look around and spot two. They're not pointed in our direction. One of them doesn't even have a red light on.

That's not reassuring security-wise, but it makes it easier for me to cup Jennie's perfect ass. She gasps, and when I give her a gentle push, I whisper, "Get in, take off your panties, and spread your legs."

By the time I'm seated next to her and the doors are securely locked, she's obeyed, panting. I put my hands where they most want to be: one of them fondling her breast, the other slipping back up her skirt while she moans against my mouth. She's already soaking wet. Maybe she's been thinking about this all evening while we waited for Marcus to go home.

Marcus. Fuck. Now that he's seen the boss leaving, he could decide to go home any second now. He could arrive in the garage.

"Tinted windows?" I whisper urgently.

"Yes!" Jennie arches her hips. "Hurry!"

Normally I don't let her order me around, but I can't wait tonight. Not just because of Marcus or any other potential observers. I need to feel Jennie come, and come hard, and when I slip two fingers inside her, she does exactly that. She clenches around me, shuddering in ecstasy, and moans, "Lisa!"

I love the sound of my name on those lips. I kiss them again, and Jennie kisses back while she comes down, as hungry as if she hasn't just come on the hand that's still inside her.

"Oh," she breathes against my mouth, sounding faint and satisfied.

I want so much to drag her hand between my legs. "Was it good?"

"You know it was." She leans away from the kiss and pats down her hair. The bun looks remarkably neat. "Oh, goodness."

I lick my fingers, the closest I'll get to tasting her tonight. She watches me. Her pulse starts going even more quickly at the base of her throat.

"I, um, better go." I resist the urge to wipe my wet fingers on my blouse. Or stick them in her mouth and tell her to suck them. "See you Monday."

She gives me a muzzy look. "What are your weekend plans?"

I can't have heard that right. Jennie can't be making small talk, and the alternative—that she's about to invite me somewhere—seems even less likely.

"Nothing much," I say. "Catching up on school. Going out on Saturday night with Jaemin and some other friends." I decide to omit the words bar crawl.

"Who's Jaemin?"

She's got to be kidding. "Jaemin? Mark's PA?"

"Oh, him." She shrugs and straightens her skirt. "That's right. I'd forgotten he's also…" She trails off.

I can't help rolling my eyes, but she's not looking. "In the gay club?"

"For heaven's sake." She smooths back her hair again. "Well, I hope you have a good time. Try not to drunk-text anyone."

If not for the wry quirk of her lips, I'd get huffy. But that little smile could get me to agree to anything, couldn't it? "R-right. I won't."

I leave. Behind me, I hear Jennie's engine starting. It's time to put this day behind me and hope Minnie won't ask me any questions when I get home.

I have an awful suspicion I wouldn't know how to answer them.