iamthefirechild:
Summer finds an excuse to loiter around the specified closet ten minutes later — she’s curious how far Phil might take this.
Phil rounds the corner, keys in hand. He unlocks the closet door, steps inside, pulls Summer in behind him and shuts said door, pressing her up against him. “You play chicken with me, you’re going to lose.” he smirked.
She grins up at him, hands gripping the lapels of his suit jacket. “Chicken, is it? I don’t mind losing that game. Let’s don’t get caught, though.” Taking his keys away, she fumbles them onto a shelf behind her.
As she takes his keys, Phil uses his hands to pick her up off the floor, pinning her between the door and his body. His teeth are already nipping and teasing the soft skin of her throat. There isn’t much time for slow and steady here. Not when anyone could walk by.
She’s worn a skirt today, randomly, which will simplify things enormously. However, the way Phil is holding her makes it hard for her to /do/ anything except submit to his ministrations at the moment. She locks her ankles behind his back and bites into her own lip to muffle her whimpering.