Off-screen

"Ms. Vega, I presume."

The familiar voice snapped me out of my beleaguered afternoon haze. I was stealing a few minutes to myself in the hotel bar, trying hard to become invisible among the crowd of conference attendees. But the mischievous tones beneath the cool, dulcet delivery stirred me to attention. His presence here was completely out of context, and my body responded before before I had a chance to dig his name from my memory. My palms grew cold and damp as I wrapped them tighter around the empty rocks glass in front of me and my back arched as I spun my stool around to meet the phantom behind me.

"Dr. Anselmo," I smiled in honest astonishment and stuck out my hand. I had spent the majority of my undergrad career trying to figure this man out, vying for an ounce of his attention, prying his dark, charismatic eyes and talking hands from my dreams. Just the idea of him had damn near ruined my marriage, even though I was sure he was oblivious to my existence. And here he was, standing in front of me looking exactly as he had all those years ago. Forceful and approachable, remarkably magnetic.

"That's Dr. Vega, to you," I quipped dryly in an attempt to steel myself.

He paused as he gently grasped my hand, eyeing the vacant ring finger on my other hand and his eyes glimmered slightly, punctuated with a quick, impish smile. "I wouldn't expect anything less. What are you drinking?"

"Glen Scotia. Neat."

He turned his back to me as he flagged the bartender and I watched his shoulders raise and lower in a deep sigh before he looked up at the ceiling and put his hand to his chin. I didn't need to see his face to know that he was thinking, it was a gesture he repeated many times over the years while deftly pondering his next move. He straightened his body and brushed his hand through his thick, black hair, turning subtly to steal a glance. I ducked behind my phone, pretending to check for updates as a shockwave of forgotten desire surged through my body. He leaned his elbow against the bar and turned to face me just as I was nervously smoothing my shirt.

In my mind, I was already pressed between him and the bar, his body heavy against me as we kissed; our lips strong while our tongues danced around the tenuous emergence of repressed yearning. I suppose my hand lingered just a bit too long at the button near my breast, at least that's where it was when he cleared his throat and I rejoined reality.

"I saw your panel, you did great," he said, sliding a bar stool closer and taking the seat. "I didn't recognize your name on the schedule, it was a really a nice surprise to find you here."

"Oh god, you saw that?" My cheeks grew hot as I shrunk into my chair and covered my eyes. "It was such a disaster!" We both laughed as the bartender set down two scotches. Anselmo pushed a bill back in return and put his hand casually on my knee.

"You've always been too hard on yourself, Ell. Besides, it's not exactly easy to recover from a security alarm... and a power failure..."

"And a clumsy neighbor," I laughed as I pulled my jacket over the remains of a coffee stain on my skirt and re-crossed my legs. His hand stayed in place, warming into the flesh above my knee. "Still, there's not many people who are crazy enough to sit through a discussion about the contemporary implications of primitivism on the last day of a film conference."

"It's no secret that I'm certifiable," he scoffed and shrugged and stared vacantly toward the bar. I stopped breathing when I saw his lips pull tight and curl into a shy dimple. "How could I resist?"

"Well, you did teach me just about everything I know," I mugged sarcastically.

"Just about?" He raised his eyebrows defiantly and leaned back on the stool.

"Well, there's some things a woman can work out on her own," I said in marvel of my own boldness. I ran my finger carefully over the edge of my glass before pulling it slowly toward my lips, teasing the glare he had locked on them. "It's been a long time, Gio."

He scanned me with his eyes as I took a sustained sip of the scotch, savoring the smoky bouquet as it rolled over my tongue.

"Yeah," he broke the silence evasively and raised his glass. "You were one of my favorite students. I've had a few good ones since your time, but no one who thinks like you do. It's really, really great to see you."

"Likewise," I clinked my glass to his and watched him drain the honey-gold liquid.

I followed suit, then stood up and reached out my hand as I set the empty glass on the bar with determination.

"Do you need to leave already?" he stammered, openly disappointed. "Can I—"

This time the mischievous smile spread across my lips as I grasped his hand and pulled him from his seat. I turned my back to him, squeezing his hand, leading him toward the hallway. My stride felt electric and I bit my lip as I turned to see his shocked face, picking up pace as he blindly coasted behind me toward the bathroom door.

I was struck with sudden anxiety as the heavy door pushed open in front of me and just as quickly as my confidence had bolstered, it was torn down in the face of the ridiculous gesture I had made. I had no idea exactly what I was going to do. I stood and faced him as the door closed in silence. He looked in the mirror over my shoulder and grinned, and I turned to see us both reflected in the mirror——me with a coffee-stained skirt, dirty blonde hair slightly disheveled from the brisk pace, he had an interminably perplexed look plastered to his chiseled face, wide eyes and excited tension in his jaw. In an instant, we both burst into a relieved fit of laughter, and I fell back into him, failing to gain composure.

"I'm so sorry," I said when I finally caught my breath, leaning my head back on his shoulder and wiping watering my eyes. "I just wanted... I don't know what I wanted." That was a bold lie. I had known for years exactly what I wanted, but all those moments of uncertainty came flooding back. I couldn't be sure of what he wanted, and my desire became overshadowed by the pressure of disbelief.

"Well, you certainly took me by surprise," he breathed deep as he continued to laugh, "This is the kind of shit that only happens in the movies."

We both convulsed at the comment, howling over-enthusiastically until our eyes watered. I turned and pressed my body into his, pulling back slightly to look in at him. He reached over and locked the door, then pressed his thumb to my cheek, gingerly wiping away a tear. The lost years suddenly collapsed until there was nothing between us but our aching bodies. He wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and pressed his lips hungrily into mine. My body melted into his as I wrapped my arms around him, trailing my hands over his back and rubbing them over his firm ass and up through his hair. My cunt became increasingly saturated as my hips pressed into his thick cock.

"I've wanted this for so long," I hissed into his ear as I massaged his member through the smooth fabric of his pants and he fumbled with the buttons of my shirt.

"You have no idea," he groaned as he picked me up by the waist and spun to press me against the wall.

I crossed my legs around him and squeezed my thighs tight as he let go of me to unbuckle his pants, his freed prick pressing into the taught fabric of my skirt. As my tongue dove into his mouth, he pushed the impeding garment up over my hips and shoved his rigid shaft into my eager hole. I gasped and threw my back against the wall as the fullness radiated through my body. He thrust into me with an unbridled rhythm, enraptured in the first moment of contact, before slowing and steadying his pace. He leaned into me, pressing his dampened forehead to mine as he ground both of us into the wall.

His hands seemed to be everywhere, caressing my face, pushing against my lithe breast, kneading the supple flesh of my ass. His mouth operated skillfully around my face and neck, breathing into my ear and biting the soft lobe, lingering in the tender space below my jaw, sucking on my lips. I squeezed my pussy tight around him as the reality and fantasy of the moment coalesced and washed over me. With each rock of my pelvis, I ground my clit into him, and the heat built up until I couldn't stand it anymore.

The first shudder came from deep inside, rippling from the base of his submerged shaft up to my throat. I couldn't stifle the moan, and he responded by lengthening his stroke, each one pushing deeper and harder as he got closer. I clapped one hand to my mouth and the other smacked against wall as he pushed me over the edge, my lower body overtaken with spasms as he groaned and I felt his hot load shoot against the walls of my contracting canal.

He kissed me once more, softly, and lowered my spent body gently to the ground. He readjusted my skirt and buttoned my shirt as he kissed my neck.

"You know, I do have a room here," he grinned as he tucked his shirt into his pants and clicked his belt into place.

I giggled and fixed my collar. "I suppose that could have been an option."

"I'm not ruling anything out just yet," he said, grabbing me by the waist and sweeping me in close to his body.

"Maybe dinner first," I smiled and kissed him before unlocking and swinging the door open to the surprise of some lingering male patrons.

"Oh, and I have a suite," I smirked as I walked back to the bar to retrieve my jacket.