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“Why aren’t you trying to get him to notice you?” she asked. “After all, you tried so hard for six months to ensure he didn’t notice you. And now that that's changing, why wouldn't you take the chance to be bold?”
“No!” I nearly yelled. “I'm not doing this right now. I fucking woke up naked and hungover. My life has started going downhill since I spoke to you yesterday.”
“So it’s my fault?” she teased.
“Yes!” I nearly yelled back.
She sent a few laughing emojis. “What do you remember though? Do you know if he was the one that stripped off your clothes and tucked you in? That would be so wonderful if he was the one that did, but a little creepy. Why did he have to take your clothes off?”
At her question, I thought even further about what had happened, and just then it all came back to me. How I had completely embarrassed myself in the car… in this very car, trying to get him to fuck me. How I hadn’t relented even when I had returned to the hotel, and finally, whose dick I had ended up sucking at the end of the day.
But it hadn’t ended there. I felt sensitive when I touched myself. In the shower. I knew something had happened but not quite; however, now it hit me like a ton of bricks. He had eaten me out.
“Holy fucking shit!” I cursed out loud.
At first, I didn’t care that he was right beside me. I didn’t even realize it, not until I met Mr. Kit's widened and shocked gaze in the rearview mirror. Instantly, I realized where I was and who was beside me and turned to look at him, completely apologetic.
“I’m so sorry, Sir, I just-”
I couldn’t even complete the statement as I stared at him. He had –
I remembered every word, and I didn’t know how to feel. And best of all, I remembered just how hard I had come. How I had screamed and held onto him. And how I had thanked him afterward.
He turned away without a word, and I couldn’t believe it. How could he - after yesterday - how could he not say anything at all? How could he just return to business as usual? How could we just return to work as usual and not even acknowledge that we had crossed every professional line down to man the previous night? In fact, the line didn’t even exist anymore. What the hell was happening?
I stole another glance at him and saw that he was scrolling through his phone, a slight frown on his face. Now, I truly wanted to escape. I needed to process this. I couldn’t handle the demand of the event we were heading to and have this on my mind as well.
I picked up my phone once again and texted Emma.
“He ate me out. Last night - he ate me out.”
This time around, when she took time in replying, I understood that it was due to shock.
“You’re joking, right?” she asked.
“No, I'm not. I just recalled it all now, every single excruciating minute and second of last night. I was completely loose. I completely lost my mind. I all but forced him onto me, Emma. I begged and cried and forced him.”
“And he gave in?”
“He said he was reciprocating the favor for me... going down on him, and so he ate me out, but he didn’t go any further. He said I wasn’t sober enough.”
“That’s good, right?” she asked.
“I don't fucking know. This had been my dream for so long, and now that it happened, it has taken me several hours to process, and now I truly don't know how to feel about it.”
“Has he said a word?” she asked, and I replied.
“No. Isn’t that weird?”
“It is weird,” she replied. “Maybe he wants to forget as well?”
“Why the hell would he want to forget? It was amazing!”
“For him, it might not have been,” she said, and all sorts of thoughts barraged through my head. My confidence plummeted, as well as my peace, and I only had one response for her.
“You're an asshole.”
Chapter Thirteen
