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The printer whirred down the dark hallway, but her chair squeaked louder. His tie pressing into her bare skin as he pushed her down. “Someone— know,” she whispered, even as her feet curled. The security camera waited, but the risk only pushed him go harder.
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The waiter pushed her against the shelves, his mouth tasting like whiskey. Her apron hiked up as he grabbed her cheek, growling, “Quiet, or we’re fired.” The distant crowd outside covered her cries.
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Behind the rows, his hands clutched her waist. A book fell as she leaned over the counter. His voice rough in her ear: “You’ll come before they hear us.” Her whimper was all the {permission|consent|answer] he needed.
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