Page 59 of The Opposite of Romance
One that’s giving me too much pleasure to think about anything other than what we’re doing. One that’s hitting a spot I didn’t know I had, again and again, until I’m a panting, withering mess.
My pussy contracts, ready to come. Another ‘fuck’ escapes him. His lips connect to mine, and his thumb finds my clit, rubbing it in quick circles. It’s all it takes to make me come again.
“Fuck, Logan,” I breathe out as I spasm around him, my legs trembling. He follows right behind with a loud groan, his forehead pressed to mine. His muscles flex as he fills the condom and, in my lust-induced state, I wish the condom wasn’t in the way of him filling me up.
What the hell was that thought?
What the hell just happened?
Did I have sex with my employee? In my backyard? Out in the open? In the middle of a thunderstorm?
The sky finally clears, my mind right alongside it.What the hell was I thinking?
His cock is still inside of me as my heart rate picks up, this time out of panic, not desire. I guess he reads the same in my eyes, because he exits me and disposes of the condom, avoiding eye contact.
“Untie me, please,” I plead, with my throat closing up. “I need to go.”
He does what I ask, and I jump off the table.
“Sadie!” he calls after me.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” I mutter before escaping inside the house, unsuccessfully trying to cover myself with my hands.
“Shit, shit, shit. What the hell was I thinking?” I whisper-yell, wrapping myself in a blanket, desperate to escape my nakedness.
I need to get in the shower to clear my head. To clear my body of the evidence of my horrible decision making.
Taking the steps two at a time, I rush into my bathroom, slamming the door closed and pressing my back to it.
Yes, a good shower is exactly what I need, I gaslight myself.
I drop the blanket, and my naked form reminds me Logan is also naked, and wet from the rain, in my backyard. Like fucking my youthful employee wasn’t bad enough, I left him soaked outside my house like a homeless puppy.
Shit. I throw on a bathrobe and dig through my wardrobe, finding a large pair of basketball shorts and a giant t-shirt I wear to lounge around the house. I also grab the biggest towel I have and head back downstairs to place it all in the guest bathroom.
Steeling myself with a deep breath, I fake the courage to exit the house, the sight of him hitting me straight in the chest.
His cock is back inside his pants, thankfully, but he’s still shirtless, trying to wring out the water from the shirt he wore.
He doesn’t notice me, so I clear my throat. “There’s a towel and some clothes that should fit you in the downstairs bathroom so you can take a shower, or whatever. I won’t bother you; I’ll be upstairs.” I point a thumb upward, awkwardly, and when I realize he won’t be gracing me with an answer, I get back inside.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I focuson the sound of my bathroom lock clicking, trying to ground myself. It’s not like I think he would follow me upstairs. But I feel safer this way. Less exposed.
It’s hardly the time to think about not exposing yourself,my guilty conscience says, and the bitch is right.
There’s no way to bemoreexposed than I was a few minutes ago, tied to the workstation of my younger contractor.
I get inside the shower stall, turning the water to scalding hot. Just how I like it. I need to wash my conscience away. Or better yet, drown it.
It helps, of course, because a hot shower is the closest things us humans have to magic, but it doesn’t do much to erase the thoughts swirling my head.
The piping hot water burns my skin, but it’s not enough to burn the memory of what happened. And I’m not sure if I’d want that memory gone. I had sex for the first time after divorcing David. I had sex with someone that isn’t David for the first time after twelve years. The thought is here, in my brain, but it’s somewhat blurry, unreachable. Like it’s supposed to be here, but I don’t feel it.
It’s supposed to be this big moment for me, but I’m toobusy freaking out to feel it. My brain is overloaded with the fact that I am Logan’s employer, and I abused him in his place of work, during his work hours, which makes me completely despicable.
He didn’t seem like he minded it,another voice interjects, this one hoping to save the remains of my sanity.
