Dana leaned in to see better. “Is that a camera?”

“Yep. Agent Frost got it for me. She’s got a talent with gadgets. Works with us sometimes when HDD lets her.” He flipped pages, quickly taking pictures.

Dana brushed through the files, not feeling jealous of the woman with the cool name who Wolfe thought was talented. Nope. Not at all. “I don’t see a membership list here.” Shoot. They needed that.

“Figures.” He was quick and efficient with the watch, and soon they had everything.

She replaced all the files and stood, quietly shutting the drawer.

He drew off his mask. “Okay. Let’s get out—”

The door started to open.

Strong hands grabbed her hips, and Wolfe lifted her, pivoted, and planted her butt on the desk. He grasped her neck, pressed his hips between her thighs and moved in. Wild and commanding, he kissed her, going deep and sure. Desire blasted her, and she grabbed his shirt for balance, kissing him back and closing her eyes.

He took her over, plain and simple. Electricity arced between her nerves, sending her senses spiraling. There was only Wolfe and his mouth on her, his hands on her. All of him over her.

A throat cleared.

Wolfe pulled away, his hands remaining tight on her hips, and looked over his shoulder. “We’re busy.”

Dana couldn’t breathe. Her body felt pliable and needy. The desk was cool beneath her nearly bare butt, and her thighs were warm on either side of his legs. She blew out air, trying to calm her rioting heart, embarrassed by her very vulnerable position.

“This isn’t a playroom,” Trentington said, his voice hard.

Wolfe tugged her up and partially turned, finally releasing her. “Sorry. Office fantasy, and the one upstairs was occupied.”

Trentington looked around the room. “The rope should’ve been your first clue.” Suspicion darkened his eyes.

“Sorry,” Wolfe repeated, reaching to help Dana off the desk and pulling her mask back down to shield her features.

She wobbled for a moment and then took his hand, trying to slow her breathing so her breasts didn’t just pop over the top of the corset. So much for their one night of sex taking the edge off this unreal desire for him.

“It’s midnight and time for a toast.” Trentington moved back. “Get out of my office.”

“Sure thing,” Wolfe said cheerfully, leading Dana out and ducking them beneath the rope, his mask back in place. They reached the living area, where the music had softened to light jazz. The room was packed, with people spilling into the kitchen area and up the stairway.

A woman in pasties handed them champagne glasses before handing one to Trentington, who emerged next to Wolfe.