Corrupted

Charlie Forde is still in her black business dress when she pulls Kit Farrin aside. The hallway outside the conference room is empty, music from the party leaking under the door. Charlie leans close enough that Kit can smell her perfume, voice low and certain. "You’ve never been with a woman." Kit shakes her head. Charlie smiles, slow and hungry. "I’ve wanted to fuck you since the first day you walked in," she says. "Right here. Right now. No one has to know." Kit’s breath catches. Charlie’s hand slides up the inside of her thigh, finds heat through thin silk. She pushes the fabric aside and slips two fingers straight inside, curling deep. Kit braces against the wall, biting her lip to stay quiet. Charlie works her in steady strokes, thumb circling her clit, free hand cupping the full weight of her breast, thumb brushing a stiff nipple through her dress. She watches Kit’s face the whole time, eyes dark with satisfaction, never breaking rhythm until Kit comes hard against her hand, shaking, a soft whimper caught in her throat. Charlie pulls her fingers out, licks them clean, and straightens Kit’s skirt. "Our little secret," she whispers, then slips back into the party like nothing happened.