Just Fuc**d
Anastasia
I feel sore all over when I wake up.
My body feels like I stood in the railway too long and a train whipped over me or somebody spent the night pounding me.
Then all of a sudden there’s a deep sleepy growl from behind me and I remember that someone did spend the night pounding me.
Just not that kind of pounding.
A smile breaks out on my face as the memories of last night come flooding back.
Oh! The bliss of great sex.
It is still dark with the palest streaks of dawn outside the windows but I can feel Jake’s strong arm around my body as he sleeps behind me.
My naked body is flushed against his hard one and I cannot pretend to not like the feeling of his morning wood pressing at my back just above my ass.
I don’t want to think about what is going to happen now that we fucked and if it’s going to be a dent in our office life but the thoughts keep creeping in. After the best extra three rounds just the night before, you’ll think my overthinking will be nonexistent at least for a few hours.
I push it out because I just had sex with Jake Keaton and my whole body will be singing his praise for as long as I remember. Nobody ever made me feel the way he did yesterday, nobody ever touched me like that or made me feel like he did.
He made me feel powerful, like I had power and control over him. It is an illusion, of course because there’s no way a person like me can have control over a man as powerful as Jake Keaton but during that moment when his eyes practically worshipped my body, I felt more powerful than I have ever felt in my life and that was a wonderful feeling.
I sigh against his body in fulfillment because I just had sex with Jake Keaton.
And that’s when it hits me.
I just had sex with Jake Keaton!
My boss who hates the word clingy and everything that comes with.
How many times have I had to come and send the ladies out? How many times has he asked them to leave immediately he woke up and saw them?
How many minutes do I have before he wakes up and tell me to leave his sight and if that happens, how can I ever deal with looking at him again?
I don’t wait to find out.
Ignoring the protest of my whole body, I slip away from his hand and stand up from the bed, my knees nearly buckling from under me when I stand.
Despite the weakness of my body and the urge to curl up by his side, I grope for my clothes silently in the dark and one by one I find my suit pants, shirt and bra, but no matter how much I grope I can't seem to get hold of my panties.
So I abandon the search and put of the pieces of the clothing I’m able to find before quietly slipping out from the room and closing the door with a slight thud behind me.
I grab my bag from where I dropped it on the floor in the frenzy yesterday and I look out the window at the dark dawn, cursing myself for leaving my car in the headquarters.
There is a small clearing of throat to my right and I swivel to see Jonas standing beside the door, a glass of water in his hand.
“Good morning, Miss Wells.”
“Hi, Jonas.”
Heat floods my face because I know he can recognize that just-fucked look in my body and the guy practically saw us nearly have sex in the back seat of the car yesterday.
“Need help with something?” he asks again. If he recognizes the look, he doesn’t say anything about it.
“Can you take me home?”
He drops the glass on the table and gives me a rapt nod. “Sure.”
The ride home is a silent one, with me looking out the window and Jonas skidding past the empty streets during the fifteen minutes drive.
He is totally quiet and I don’t start up any conversation either because things are already awkward as it is.
When he stops in front of my apartment, I mutter my appreciation and he says something in a grunt before zooming of.
I slip my keys into the door of my apartment and step into the darkness before my hand finds and hits the switch and the lights floods on.
Ree trudges out, her hands over her eyes and her hair messed up.
She startles when she sees me. “Jesus Christ, you creeped me out, what the fuck happened to your hair?” she does a double take and takes in my whole look as I drop my bag and keys on the designer table, “oh my god I know that look.”
“What look?” I shoot back.
“The afterglow,” she claps her hand together, “I mean take off that mass of hair and clothes you’re practically glowing,” she squeals.
“Don’t you dare wake Richie,” I warn.
A voice immediately comes up from behind her, “Already up,” Richie joins her by her doorway, the bird nest on his head worst than mine, “what’s all the fuss, it aint even five yet.”
Ree points an accusing finger at me, “Anna just had sex.”
The bored expression automatically wipes out from Richie’s face. “She did what?”
They are staring at me like proud parents of a daughter who just got back from prom.
I make a face at them.
“I recognize the messy hair, the rumpled clothes, oh girl come on, tell me, was it Josh?”
“Nice try, Ree,” I goad, striding to my room.
“Of course I didn’t think it was Josh,” I hear her saying, mischief alight in her voice.
I close the door with a loud bang and ready myself for work with only one person on my mind.
Jake fucking Keaton!