“Don’t stop,” she panted. “Please don’t stop.”

“What are you — “ I started, but then her thumbs pressed into my arch and I practically melted. “Holy shit, that’s good.”

I slammed the apartment door behind me, kicking off my stilettos with a groan. My feet throbbed after six hours of standing around pretending to care about Danielle’s gallery opening.

“Fucking finally,” I mutter…