[Elena's about to protest that broom closets are fine--they're often cozy, clean and above all, convenient—when his teeth catch a little more skin that she was expecting and she practically purrs against him. The alcohol must be having a significant effect now, because she can't imagine replicating that sound if she tried.]

Oh yeah? Maybe we should check it out then. If you don't mind leaving the party.

[Doubtful. The way his hands are wandering, he's only faintly aware other people even exist.]

Because I can think of a few ways we could have a better time...

[She leans forward to whisper into his ear exactly what she wants to do to him, what how she wants to do it, and in what order.]