And as impossible as it is, it feels like we fit, like . . . like he’s the piece of the puzzle I need to reconnect with the world.

While the rest of the time I feel like nothing more than a shard of broken glass. A fragment.

I let myself give in to the sensation of him. The sounds in the hall now are nothing more than background music, adding the beat of excitement to our dance. My head falls onto his shoulder as his fingers continue to move. I feel myself shaking as my body contracts around him, holding him in place, making us whole.

He gently steps away, but only enough to pull down my panties. He lets them drop to the floor.

“Lie down,” he instructs. “On your side.”

At a seductive, unhurried pace, I pull my knees to my chest before shifting my position and lying down on the conference table, on my side, facing away from him. I feel him climb on top of the table with me, kneeling beside me. I hear laughter in the hall. I feel him stroke my back, then lower. I feel his knee press between my legs and then I feel him pressing against me. I don’t say please this time. I don’t ask. I just turn my head slightly and smile into his eyes.

When he enters me, as I feel every ridge slide inside me, rubbing against each nerve ending, in that one fleeting moment the puzzle is complete.

“Bell,” he whispers, and I extend one of my legs forward, straight in front of me like a dancer preparing to rest her slippered foot on a ballet bar.

But his movement is not so gentle. The table creaks slightly as he thrusts with increasing force, his hands slipping to my hips as he pulls me against him.

Outside I hear a woman call out to a colleague. On the wall I see more promotional posters for this hated bank. But all I feel is Lander.

And he feels perfect.

I throw my head back as the passion continues to build. I feel the orgasm coming and I’m not sure whether I still care if we’re caught or not. Everything outside that door is so complicated and messy. This is so simple.

We just fit.

Again he thrusts inside me and I manage to compress my cries into whimpers as he pulls my leg back to him, turning me to face him as he lies down with me so that now my legs are scissored through his. My face is against his as he penetrates even deeper. I cling to him and he continues to move. The whole table shakes with us, and for a moment I wonder about its stability. But then, what would I know about stability?