| no catch , mjj | ✓

☆ - 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦.

warning: slight mature content

The decibels of the music disrupt Leigh-Anne's concentration as she stumbles to a stop a few feet away from the storage room door. The door is propped open, and a sliver of warm light spills out into the small corridor. Shaking a little, she fishes her strawberry-flavored lip gloss from out of her satchel and smoothes the almost transparent, light pink color over her lips.

'Am I seriously going to go through with this?' She closes her eyes and leans against the wall just outside the storage room, her heart beating so quickly and erratically that it nearly competes with the hip-hop song playing out on the dance floor of Club Passion.

The guy she'd met at the bar and hung out with on the dance floor was super nice and really cute. They have quite a bit in common too, like the same tastes in music and movie genres, for example. And when she'd told him about her job opportunity in Sudan, he didn't make her feel like she's just this fool chasing after a dream that may never materialize for her.

Has her body figured out how perfect he is for the job? Not exactly. She isn't particularly burning up with the need to get all sweaty and naked with this guy. Yet he's nothing like Andre, which means he's exactly what she needs. And the way he'd been grinding against her on the dance floor left no room for doubt on where he wanted this night to go. When he'd whispered, "I saw a storage room in the back. Meet me in ten?" she wasn't even shocked.

She had, however, shocked herself when she agreed.

Though, if she keeps going over this whole thing in her head, she's just going to end up breathing through a paper bag instead of having the best sex of her life.

Or, at least, what she thinks is going to be the best sex of her life.

So, with that, Leigh-Anne drops her lip gloss back into her satchel, her stomach fluttering. The sound of shuffling can be heard around the storage door's edge.

The man's in there. Waiting.

She steps forward, but freezes, her right palm pressed against the partially open door. She tries her best not to hyperventilate. The fact that she's been brave enough to make it this far into the night and make it up to this point is a fucking miracle.

But no way in hell can she brave this out with the lights on.

'Don't think about it, Leigh-Anne. Just do it. Go for the gold. Carpe diem. All that shit.'

Taking a silent breath in and slowly exhaling, she reaches in and flicks off the lights. Slipping inside, she then quietly kicks the doorstop out from its spot so that the door closes behind her.

Something that sounds like a box from the upper shelves hits the floor nearby her with a thud, and Leigh-Anne lets a muttered curse that follows that noise guide her through the dark. Her pulse is pounding in her ears, and other parts of her body tingle with anticipation and awareness.