Second Hand Waitress

His orgasm finally took him. She watched in fascination as his eyes slid shut, his head flew back, and every cord in his neck stood out in stark relief. He gritted his teeth, preventing even the faintest of sounds from emerging. Only the sharp catch and gradual release of his breath gave any indication of how much the climax had affected him. She resented his control. Hated how she had given herself so completely while he, for all intents and purposes, had kept a cool head from that first kiss to this last lazy thrust.

His grip on her thighs finally loosened, and she imagined she’d have bruises in the shape of his fingertips on her butt and thighs by morning. She could barely move as he smoothly extricated himself from her, tugged off the condom, and fell flat on his face on the bed beside her, his long, muscular legs still entangled with hers.

“Thanks, Sally. I needed that.” His voice was slurred. He sounded like a very drunk or very tired man, and the gentle snore that followed a mere second later confirmed the latter fact. Kira sighed, trying not to be completely demoralized by the fact that this man, whom she had known for nearly all her fricking’ life but got to spend two hours with, had just called her by the wrong name. She maneuvered her way completely out from beneath him, sat on the side of the bed, and pushed herself up onto unsteady legs, feeling like a newborn calf. She knew she should probably get out of his space, because she very much doubted that he would appreciate waking up with her still beside him.

She hunted around the room for her dress and underwear but couldn’t find her panties. Why did it have to be her panties?@@novelbin@@

She headed toward the en suite bathroom, tugging off her hopelessly wrinkled dress as she went. She fumbled with the complicated bells and whistles in the shower cubicle. It’s a shower; why is it so damned difficult anyway? She finally got the water going and gratefully stepped beneath the powerful spray before swearing and fumbling with the knobs and buttons to set it to a temperature less than scalding.

She rested her forehead on the cool tiles before thumping it softly and rhythmically against the unforgiving surface. This was a disaster. She enjoyed sex, but she had never previously indulged outside at least a semicommitted relationship. This was uncharted territory for her. Where did they go from here?

She freshened up and dressed hastily and was thankful that her walk of shame would span only the length of his room until she got out. Nobody else would sense she had just gotten laid steamy by her boss.

When she had the door firmly shut behind her, she wobbled over to the elevator, she took her phone out and was shocked to see how late it was, it was already two in the morning, she walked back to the locker room before taking the keys to the stuffs restroom in the next door. She looked around immediately she got in and was pleased that no one was around, she fell on the lower bank bed, where most of the contents of her suitcase were chaotically strewn all over the duvet cover, and sank down in relief. Her entire body still shook in the aftermath of the best sex—and the biggest mistake—of her life.

She buried her face in her hands.

“It’s just sex,” she told herself, and was embarrassed by the unsteady pitch of her voice. And by the lie. She was definitely embarrassed by the blatant lie, even if the only person she was trying to deceive was herself. That wasn’t just sex. That had been the most mind-numbing, bone-melting, awe-inspiring one hour forty-five minutes of her life, and there was no getting around that. The irritating man certainly knew his way around a woman’s body. Her nipples ached just thinking about it, and to be frank, everything else was still tightening and convulsing in the aftermath of the soul-shattering orgasm she’d just had.

But to sleep with Tesah Clover? She shuddered in a way that had nothing to do with the micro explosions still tingling all over her body and everything to do with the fact that she could barely stand the man. So what if he was mouth-wateringly gorgeous? He was still an obnoxious, misogynistic jerk with a smug self-assurance that rubbed her the wrong way every time he spoke. Then there was the way he practically sneered every time he said Miss Kira, or the way he couldn’t seem to look at her when he talked to her, or seemed incapable of a single please or thank-you. And—horribly—after one stupid mistake on her very first minute of work, he now insisted on painstakingly checking every single report she typed for him before she was allowed to submit them in his email. It was humiliating, and while the mistake hadn’t been repeated since then, he made it absolutely clear that he did not trust her to do anything more challenging than writing what the guests probably wanted. Of course, he didn’t micromanage the rest of his staff the way he did Kira and she knew if her mother wasn't one of his mother's buddies, Tesah would probably have fired her within that first encounter. But he was damned if he’d obviously expected her to compromise to his demands—wanted?—her to.

And she had slept with him. She couldn’t even blame alcohol, exhaustion, or temporary insanity . . . hold on. Maybe she could blame temporary insanity. She must have lost her mind. Why else would she have slept with the condescending, arrogant bastard?

“Damn it.” The words were mild but heartfelt. She didn’t know if she was sophisticated enough to be cool about a one-night stand. With her boss. Whom she despised.