The metallic click of the stall door locking back into place was the only signal I needed. I didn't wait for a witty remark or a slow build-up. I stood up from the toilet lid, my space suddenly feeling half its size with Tessa's proximity. She smelled like expensive perfume and the high-pressure energy of the executive floor, a scent that only made the "Villain" in my blood hum louder.
I didn't say a word. I reached out, my hands finding her waist and spinning her around. Tessa let out a small, surprised "oh!" as I pressed her chest against the cold tile of the wall, right above the toilet.
"Evan—" she started, but the protest died in her throat as I hiked her sleek pencil skirt up to her hips.
