The restroom door clicked shut with a soft, final whisper, sealing them into a cocoon of cool air and dim amber light, the distant roar of the debate theater muffled to nothing.
The scent hit first, sharp lemon cleaner undercut with the faint metallic tang of pipes and the warmer, muskier note of anticipation hanging thick.
Klein leaned back hard against the door, her slight frame the only barrier to the world outside, navy silk dress plastered to her body with the heat of her need, clinging to every shallow, ragged breath.
The fabric stretched across her chest, her nipples dark, hard peaks straining visibly, begging through the thin material like they had a voice of their own.
Her eyes locked on Devon Aldridge with a feral intensity that could peel skin.
"Dr. Aldridge," she rasped again, voice low and rough. "Nine minutes. That's all I need to taste you, to feel you split me open, to drown in you before I'm dust."
