Page 44 of Insufferable Boss

I ached everywhere. And yet I had never felt so good. I almost didn't want to separate from him... and so I held on under the pretense that I needed to be stable. Eventually, though, he began to move away, and I had no choice but to let go.

I gripped onto the faucet and focused on meeting his gaze, even though every part of me wanted to look anywhere but there.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and I nodded. I even managed to work up a smile.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I replied.

He gave me a peculiar look, and then I looked down to see the mess. It was arousing and unbelievable at the same time, and so damn sexy. I wanted to do it again on every surface in this goddamn apartment until I got him out of my system because as he pulled even further away from me, I could feel the guttural loss.

"Clean up," he said. "I'll be outside."

And with that, he left the stall. I was still more or less dressed, with my yoga pants and underwear puddled at my feet, and my shirt bunched around my shoulders. I couldn't possibly imagine how unattractive and ragged I looked right now. It frustrated and aggravated me that this was where my thoughts were going. I wanted to leave here immediately, so I didn't even bother with the shower, even though my clothes were wet and a mess. I couldn't exactly walk back to my hotel looking so ridiculous.

Eventually, I gave in and sighed as I completely stripped and turned on the faucet. The warm, heavy cascade was a remedy, to say the least, and pretty soon, as I explored the selection of shampoo and body wash, I came out smelling like a rose. I knew I could borrow something from him to wear and send him brand new replacements, so I wasn't too worried. My only concern was getting out of here as fast as possible and returning to my hotel.

When I got out of the stall, he was unsurprisingly nowhere to be found, so I headed over to the mirror. What I saw before me was a girl who was somewhere she wasn't supposed to be. But as I thought about how I had just been nearly fucked out of my mind; I couldn't help but shrug. All that ended well was well, and if I walked out of here with my head held high, then all would be fine. We had gotten what we wanted from each other. It had been a transaction, and nothing else, and no one had lost. This was what I told myself over and over until my hair was decently dried.

I grabbed my clothes and walked past his magnificent walk-in closet and into his bedroom. It was a perfect mix of warmth and darkness, both domineering and cozy at the same time. The wooden accents were polished luxurious oakwood, the sheets and carpet warm in varying shades of beige. There were no paintings here... very minimal color, and I could understand it. Even though the space was big, it was something of a sanctuary and needed to be as minimalist as possible to foster restfulness. I loved the room, but it most definitely wasn't mine.

I immediately saw him seated in a corner and turned to address him.

"Can you show me the washing machine and dryer?" I lifted my clothes. "I need to get these taken care of so that I can leave."

"No need," he replied as he set his phone down and then got up. He turned around to face me, and I really wished he hadn't. I truly wish he hadn't. He had only his towel wrapped around his waist, but he might as well not bother with wearing anything at all.

It was loose, riding incredibly low on his hips, and of course, that smooth smattering of hair and the bulge below reminded me explicitly of the dick that had just been inside of me. The dick I was still trying to recover from. I still felt wobbly. My strength was depleted, and although it was easy to see that I had extended too much emotional, physical, and mental energy on the same morning despite having no nourishment whatsoever besides water, I still understood and accepted, especially as I looked at him now, that the majority of my languidness had to do with how he had just fucked me mindless in the bathroom.

He was shameless, I had to say. Either that or he was just completely oblivious and selfish because how the fuck did he expect me to get my bearings when he looked like that and yet still faced me so blatantly? His skin was glistening once again, cleaned, oiled... veined... muscled. It was as though he was cut from marble, and I wanted to trace every dip and curve with my tongue.

"Lena," he called, and I finally pulled my eyes away to meet his. I should have been embarrassed because I was sure I had fallen into some sort of trance as I shamelessly ogled him, but I was past that now. He had turned my ass around and eaten me from behind. Any pretense of shyness now was just ridiculous.

"You can have any of my shirts and shorts from my closet," he said. "They're arranged in one section. Just look around and pick whatever you feel the most comfortable with."

Now he was offering me his clothes. I frowned because this was definitely not where I wanted this to go, and it was definitely not the idea that I wanted to have in my head.

"No need," I told him. "I don't need to wash my clothes. Just drying them quickly and heading home will be alright."

"Home?" He cocked his head, and it was then I remembered.

"Oh... I'm still living in a hotel. Still, they have a laundry service. It's excellent. I'm meant to send in my clothes to them this afternoon anyway, so it's great."

He gave me a look, ignored all my words, and walked past me and back to the closet. I sighed and wondered if I should even bother responding to him. The clothes weren't too wet, and even if they were, so what?

It was better to just leave now to maintain that anonymity and even awkwardness. I didn't want to wear his clothes, and I most definitely didn't want to engage in any light banter of any sort afterward. This wasn't even supposed to be happening... all of this was an error, and I wanted to remind myself of that even though it felt so unbelievably good.

"Do you want something to eat?" I heard him ask before me. His voice, though low and stoic, was sudden enough to make me jump. This space was big, and it was just the two of us. My hand remained against my chest. He gave me a look that was very unfriendly, most probably wondering why I was startled; however, I wasn't inclined to explain myself.

I thought of his request and decided that this time around I was going to stick to my admonition. I didn't need to remain here any longer. I had already broken too many rules.

"No need," I said. "I just want to head home." I watched as he reached for coffee and quietly began to brew it in the pot. Then he turned around to look at me.

"Why are you still here?" he asked, and I frowned.

"Don't I need a key of some sort to leave?" I asked, and he pulled out a stool as he took his seat at the island.

"No," he replied. "Only on your way up."

His hair was still damp, but it was brushed away from his face... sleek, shiny... fucking attractive. He had thrown on a t-shirt now and jogging pants, and yet he looked as though he had just walked off the fucking pages of a magazine.