“Fuck that, me neither.” Our mouths crash together, and our kisses grow more desperate. Moments later, Archer drops to his knees and puts my leg over his shoulder. I hold the top of his head for balance as he licks and sucks my clit, devouring me like a starved man. One finger slides inside and then another as I ride his face, tugging on his hair. I lose myself, nearly forgetting where we are. Brooms fall over, and I’m worried someone will catch us, but at this moment, I don’t care.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” I groan out. Archer stands and wipes his mouth filled with my juices. He spins me around and presses my hands against the wall. I’m fighting to hold myself up as he fucks me from behind. Our bodies slap together, and I know if he keeps this up, I’m going to come harder than before.

As if he senses I’m close, he reaches around and circles my clit. Within seconds, I unravel again, squirting down his cock.

“Damn, you’re so tight,” he groans, squeezing my hips with his firm grasp as he loses himself. Once we catch our breaths, I turn around and realize we have made quite the mess.

“You think anyone noticed we were gone?” I ask, ready to collapse on the floor.

“Probably.” He shrugs. “Let’s find something to clean up before we go back out there.”

Archer grabs a paper towel roll and rubs a sheet over my legs, then himself. Next, he helps me move my dress down below my ass, then I adjust his suit jacket and hair. We’re a sloppy mess, and it might be more than obvious what we were doing, but I’m not ashamed.

“So you’re not giving me my panties back?” I ask before I open the door and check to see if the coast is clear.

“Absolutely not. It’s a treasure.”

I smirk. “Figured as much. I’ll go out first. Give me a few minutes, then meet me at the bar so we don’t look suspicious.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he tells me, pulling me in for one more kiss.

After I leave and shut the door behind me, I make my way down the hallway. The music’s blaring so there’s no way anyone heard us—hopefully.

As soon as I get to the bar, Gemma walks up next to me with a shit-eating grin. “You look guilty as hell.”

I shrug and wave her off. “Not sure what you mean.”

“So where were you?”

“Studying the inside of a broom closet,” I say.

Her head falls back with laughter. “Were you cleaning?” she asks, then fixes my hair.

Leaning in, I whisper, “More like gettin’ dirty.”

Archer walks up behind me, wrapping an arm over my waist. “Oh, there you are.”