She felt a completely inappropriate sense of smug satisfaction that he was out of breath, that she'd gone and flapped her normally unflappable partner. And if she could just keep that smile from leaking to her eyes and the tenderness with which she was suddenly regarding him from hinting in the corner of her mouth, then she could keep the sudden high from crashing down into a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach which was waiting for her to go 'Oh sweet fuck, you just made out with your partner.'
As it was his eyes were still not entirely tame and his hands hadn't moved from where they'd found purchase against her skin. Alyssa swallowed, shook her head, and tried not to think about what he might see in her own eyes. Cut it and quarter it, shift the emotion to where it will be useful, never let them see... but in Karl's arms, she was finding that the place she kept hidden was strangely inaccessible - maybe because it was wide opened.
"Won't work," she whispered, licking suddenly dry lips. She could still taste him there, and she swallowed. "Cover is I just moved here. You're an ex, Matt O'Shea. I had no idea you were in town, and I didn't want you to see that I was still dancing." Alyssa's eyes narrowed. "They might believe a quick fuck against the wall and that you dropped me after that... but I'm not willing to put on that show. They need a mechanic... can you pull that off?"