She wasn't going to do it. Not this time, not this party. She started chanting it to herself inside her already dizzy brain. The headache tomorrow was going to be epic, but the wine had just been too good to turn down. It would seem that everything at this year's Christmas ball was her vices - good wine, good music, and Andy in a three-piece suit. Changing the venue had encouraged everyone to break free of their usual professional attire for sparkling cocktail dresses and bowties.
Gavin had been insistent that she wear a lustrous floor-length satin sheath dress in a sumptuous champaign color. It made her hair look fantastic, and paired with her perfectly matched nude peep-toe three-inch heels she felt invincible. That could also be the wine. She should just go home. The party was wrapping up, the cab line was starting to dwindle, and despite enjoying every lingering eye that had passed her way tonight it wasn't the one she wanted.
No, she chastised herself, you're not going to do anything with Andy tonight. Not again.
Nodding several times she felt the resolve fill her and made her way to the bar for a final glass. It was only fair to reward herself for being professional in the face of such temptation. And she was tempted tonight. But it just wouldn't be right, and they'd both decided the last time it had happened that it was just too dangerous for their respective careers to keep carrying on like this. No matter how good it was. And it was good. Too good.
She threw the rest of her wine back in three swallows, not even feeling the slight sting of the alcohol anymore. The bartender rose an eye at her and she set her stemware down on the counter with narrowed eyes,
"One more for the road."
He forced a smile and went to reach for the red she'd been imbibing all night only to come up empty-handed.
"I do have some champaign left." He held up the bottle of Bollinger and Sharon found herself nodding despite knowing that was a big mistake to make. One more drink and she was getting immediately into a cab before she could make more bad decisions.
Glass full she wandered toward the front, feeling her heels catch a few times on the carpet, her bubbly sloshing onto her hand. In a bit of an uncharacteristically unladylike move, she held her hand up to her mouth to suck the champaign off as she looked around the room she'd wandered into in her confusion. It seemed to be an empty ballroom. The tables were pushed to the mirrored sides, the chairs stacked to one side of the stage directly in front of her. Each click of her heels echoed in the space as she made her way over to the empty stage and the disco ball slowly spinning above her. It was sparkling and throwing little shards of light across the scuffed floor under her. She felt the smile fill her face and took a sip, taking the final few steps to sit on the stairs up to the stage.
A dance would have been nice tonight, but perhaps it was better that they'd kept it just to drinks and appetizers. Knowing some of her coworker's booze and a disco ball would have made for plenty of blackmail for next year. She set her glass down and stretched out her sore calves, trying to get her bearings. She'd recalled a few ballrooms to the left of the venue as she'd entered earlier this evening. Once her newest dizzy spell was over she'd soldier through the pain in her aching feet and make her way to the front. All she needed to do was sit for a couple of minutes, leave the champaign exactly where she set it down, and then make her way back to her bed. It was calling to her, she closed her eyes visualizing it when a familiar voice filled the space,
Her eyes flew open as she breathed, "Andy?"
"I thought you'd left," he gave her a curious smile as his eyes poured over her. She could feel the way they slid up the slit in her dress that stopped mid-thigh, how they caressed up her waist and zeroed in on the curve of her neck. A wave of goosebumps flushed across her skin as he took in her half-empty champagne glass next.
"Making my way there. One room at a time," she smiled back. He crossed the threshold into the ballroom and made sure the door shut behind him. The click filled the space and she couldn't help the deep, anticipatory, breath she took in response. Her brain was yelling through the haze of her inebriation to get up and leave, but her body refused to respond. Instead, she noted how he'd unraveled his bowtie, it hung loosely against the lapels of his vest, highlighting the top couple buttons he'd released and the hint of hair underneath.
"Did you have fun tonight?" He asked, taking a few steps toward her as his eyes darted around the room. She knew he was doing the same cursory glance that she had done of exits, obstacles, and cameras. Even with a belly full of wine she'd seen the globe cameras hidden on the ceiling and the two back exits most likely leading to the kitchens behind the ballrooms. More importantly, she'd taken note of how dark the corner was, it was also possibly out of range of the cameras, and anyone would be able to slip out the back exit from the shadows. All her training had made her see it as a threat, but as she watched each measured step Andy took toward her all she could imagine now was a possibility.
"It was a very interesting night," she answered pragmatically. Andy closed the gap and sat right next to her on the stair, the ice still clinking in his own glass. He rested it on his knee and settled as if he might stay for a while. Watching him angle himself toward her, feeling the slight body heat as his shoulder bumped into her own made a swoon of wanting flush through her. She couldn't stop her drunk mouth from continuing with, "I didn't see much of you though."
He smiled down at his glass, shaking the ice around a few times before meeting her gaze with a smoldering heat as he said, "lying low. Trying to avoid unnecessary drama."
"I see," she nodded toward his glass. It had to be hard for a recovering alcoholic to be at an event whose sole focus was unending booze. But to her surprise, he shook his head and let out a few huffs of laughter before leaning toward her and whispering so close to her ear the little hairs moved,
"I was worried I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you."
"Oh," she exhaled, feeling her heart pick up in her chest as a blush started to form on her cheeks. She tried to fight it off, remembering the promise she'd made to herself, trying to focus on the bed that was waiting for her. But then he moved the final few millimeters between them and ran the tip of his nose along the outside shell of her ear, his voice so low it was almost a growl as he said,
"You're killing me, Sharon."
She turned her head, meeting his waiting eyes only for a moment, before pressing forward and brushing her lips against his own. Soft and feather-light, her eyes closing as she dusted a second on his froze mouth, and then she paused, breathing the air between them in the wake of her bold move. She pulled back a little, a knot of worry forming in her stomach that she'd done something wrong when he tossed his drink at the stage and twisted toward her so he could run his fingers through her hair and pull her into his kiss.
His lips were urgent, demanding, hungry for her own. He'd press a deep, hard kiss against her mouth and then follow it up with a soft bite or a groan. His fingers were digging into her carefully constructed updo, she could feel the bobby pins moving as he urged her closer with gentle tugs toward his lap. She grabbed onto the lapels of his tux to try and balance as she parted her lips and felt his tongue tease inside for a taste. Strong and sure his firm hand slid up and down her waist before cupping her ass in his palm.
She'd spent the whole night wishing and hoping he'd find her, touch her, hold her, only to chastise herself about needing something so inappropriate. They'd gone over the consequences of this several times, the line had been drawn. But the side effects of her loneliness was him and she was in no state to deny herself this simple pleasure tonight.
Crossing one leg over her own she felt herself starting to respond to his kisses, she stretched her leg across his own, the slit on her dress falling aside, and his fingernails raked over her ass and down her thigh over the fabric of her dress until he could slip his fingers under and dig them into her bare flesh on his journey back up to her thong. His fingers brushed against it and he cursed against her lips in between kisses, she smiled in response. Encouraged by his cursing she moved one of her hands up from their grip on his lapel to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her.
They started to fall backward onto the stage, she let out a little yelp against his lips and then squirmed with a bubbly laugh as some of the ice from his discarded glass met with her bareback, exposed from the cut of her dress. She pushed him up and his dilated eyes surveyed her encouraging smile before noting the ice behind her. He reached behind her to swipe it all away, a little overzealously because his tumbler crashed to the ground along with the plinks of the leftover ice. He paid no attention to it, the distraction was gone and he was ready to get right back to where they were. But the small moment to breathe had made her realize they were still far too exposed.
She pulled him down on top of her, his chest pressing into her own, the wood floor of the stage firm on her back, and sighed as his lips found her neck as she managed to heave,
"Andy, we're too exposed."
"It's fine," he rumbled against her neck, leaving a deep kiss that made a bolt of lust hit low in her belly.
"Anyone could walk in here," she tried to rationalize. His teeth raked against the delicate skin of her neck and she shuddered under him, her hips rising to his on their own volition.
"Everyone's gone," he grunted, bucking his hips in response. It made the lust swell inside her, this constant thump in between her thighs that was slowly driving her mad. She was ready for where this was going to go, she could practically feel him inside her already and she ached for it. She thought about it all the time, and all her own efforts could never match up to what he could give her. But it was only a matter of time before someone found them.
"The staff," she heaved, hoping it sounded stern but knowing she was losing this battle. One of his fingers slipped under the side of her thong and started to pull them down, slowly, as he deepened each kiss to the point of breathlessness. With a skill she didn't know he'd possessed her panties were suddenly around her ankles and he lifted off her chest only for a moment so he could pull them off over her heels and tuck them into the pocket of his tux pants. He grinned at her and she licked her swollen lips in response.
With a small groan, he made his way back, fingers racing up her inner thigh and then slowly pushing it open so the pads of his fingers could play with her slick opening before sliding up and circling around her clit. Her breath came out hard, her lower back arching as her hips circled, encouraging him to give her more. On his next circle, he slipped back down and dipped in one finger, then another, easily filling her with a single flick of his wrist. Fingers curling against her g-spot he leaned toward her breasts and she felt his teeth bite down on her hard nipple through the fabric of her dress and bra. It was like a live wire shooting from her nipple right to her clit. She shuddered under his touch, feeling her climax already starting to form.
That's when she heard it. Two voices, in Spanish, right outside the ballroom door. She froze. Andy froze as well, and then they watched in slow motion as the door started to crack open. So quick her drunk brain couldn't piece it all together Andy had removed his fingers and yanked her to her feet on the final step of the stage. He reached for her glass of champagne and she saw his hesitation as he debated going for his ruined glass but he shook his head and pushed them into the darkness. She was tucked into the corner, a wall on either side of her, and Andy was in front, facing out toward the ballroom. She pressed against his back to try and get a better look at the two housekeeping staff as they ambled into the ballroom.
One pointed at the mess of glass and ice on the ground by the stage and the other snapped off something in rapid Spanish. They rolled their cart over, cleaned it up, and gave a quick glance around the room before leaving out of the same front door they entered in. She let out the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding and then slumped against the corner. Even in all the darkness, she could still make out Andy's shoulders as he took in several calming breaths as well. Finally settled he turned around to face her, his grin so large it was practically lighting up the darkness between them.
"That was close," he whispered. She let out a little chuckle and nodded,
"We should go," he resolved, straightening his shoulders and she frowned. What were the odds of someone else coming in this room now? Slim. She didn't see why they should waste this perfect opportunity. Because she knew for certain that if they got into a cab to leave for either of their houses the magic of this moment would ebb and they'd remember they weren't supposed to be doing this. She watched as he adjusted his pants while balancing her glass of champagne in the other hand and a devious idea bombarded her.
"What's the rush?" She purred and grabbed the champaign out of his hand. She took a sip and then slowly lowered herself to her knees. He backed away from her a little, to give her room, and she easily found the zipper on his tux pants and yanked it down.
"Sharon," he hissed at her, but he didn't move. She reached in and pulled him out, thick and still rigidly hard despite all the excitement. Spreading her knees so she'd have better balance she took another sip of her champaign and held it in her mouth and then brought his length up and slid him past her wet lips.
"Fuck," he groaned and leaned forward, putting his hands on both the walls to steady himself. She swirled her tongue around him, feeling the bubbles of her champagne pop against the stiff heat in her mouth. Then she swallowed and he let out a groan so loud she was sure someone in the lobby could hear it. She thought about taking another mouthful of champaign to tease him, but he was starting to move his hips a little in his desperation.
She tossed the glass of champagne at the ground, hearing the stemware break at her carelessness, and used her free hand to grab the rest of him and start moving it up and down his shaft as she continued to suck off the rest of the champagne on his cock. She took him deeper, her lips meeting with her fingers, the tip of his cock at the back of her throat and he started cursing under each heaving breath.
He hardened further, so close now, and she released her hand to grab his hip and force him to buck further down her throat. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to take him all without gagging, but she'd be willing to try. Swallowing around him, her lips pressing into the delicate flesh, she let a little drag of teeth break up the sucking before renewing her effort. Her hand encouraging him to fulfill his urge to fill her.
"Sharon, fuck, Sharon I'm…" his voice broke off and she looked up into his face, needing to see him in this moment of ecstasy. His eyes locked with her own, so intensely focused she felt some of her own desire slick down her inner thigh. He bucked again into her mouth, with purpose, and then his eyes rolled to the back of his head as they closed and he let out a low growling curse between his teeth as he swelled in her mouth and she felt him unload into the back of her throat. She swallowed, again and again, as each of his hip thrusts started to ease and his growling turned into pants.
When she was sure he was done she took a final swallow and slid him out, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand as she continued to examine him in his aftershock. He was shaking his head, heaving, and attempting to keep himself propped up against the wall, but his arms were shaking. She stood back up, now pinned between his arms and leaned into the corner again, smoothing her dress back into place as she waited for him to recover. When his breath regained he opened his eyes and chuckled to himself.
"What?" She whispered, curious as to why he would be laughing after something that amazing.
He locked his beautiful eyes onto her own and smiled at her, "you are trying to kill me."
"Andy," she laughed, a little too loudly, and then immediately quieted herself.
"Come home with me," he urged, closing the space between them to pull her into a hug. "Let me return the favor."
"I really shouldn't," she immediately replied, but she didn't move. Would it be so bad? She couldn't give him up, no matter how hard she tried. Was she fighting a losing battle? Could they really figure this out? Would it even be worth it? There were just too many variables left in play at the moment. Maybe only one mistake a night.
He stood back up, releasing her and fixing himself with a quick zip. He looked her up and down and started to nod,
"You're right. At least let me get you a cab."
He moved out of her space and then gestured out toward the ballroom, the disco ball still slowly circling above them. She stepped over the spilled champagne and broken glass and relished the feel of his hand on her lower back as he guided her, slowly, through the ballroom toward the entrance of the hotel. Right before they made it to the door, however, she couldn't help herself.
"Is it a mistake?" She asked him.
"A fantastic blowjob is never a mistake." He joked and she gave him a stern look. "Is what a mistake?"
She took him in again, feeling that familiar flutter in her chest and the smile she could barely hide around him at the office form on her face. She was a competitive woman, but even she knew when she'd lost the war.
"Do you have an extra toothbrush?" She replied.