His pulse races and he feels feverish, doesn't know why. Yet he is aware of a vague atmosphere of excitement.
She looks into the bathroom and his eyes follow hers. Oh the tile floor, near the commode, is a pair of pantyhose and shiny gray panties.
His throat is dry and he wants to speak but doesn't know what to say.
Meredith leans down, busses his cheek, the touch feathery, tickling his skin. "I'm meeting clients this evening, take a shower and get changed."