Jinx glanced at Fenris. He was still talking, still gesturing at his board, still completely oblivious. His eyes moved from his files to Flynn's face and back again, never once looking down at where Flynn's hand had disappeared beneath the tablecloth.
Jinx turned back to Flynn. "What you are doing is inappropriate."
Flynn's hand did not move. His fingers rested against her bare thigh, warm and still. "Then take my hands off," he said. "Push me away. I will not touch you again if you do."
Jinx did not move.
She could not move. The heat from his hand had spread through her entire body, settling low in her belly. It felt good. Better than anything she had felt in years. The few times she had been intimate with Fenris, he had done the bare minimum. A few rough thrusts, a grunt, and then he was done. He had always saved his real passion for Silvia, leaving Jinx feeling used and empty.
