housekeeper

12. Painful hangover.

(Vanessa)

With a hazy gaze and scattered thoughts, ascending the stairs has never been so challenging, yet I persevere, driven by a goal. Perhaps it's the alcohol that imbues me with a sense of purpose. I falter on the final steps, pausing, adrift in my disorientation. His hand captures mine—his warm, large hand—and I find myself giggling as I land on the bed. When I look into his eyes, I am lost in the land of lust and grab his neck. I forcefully pull him towards me and lavishly kiss him with utter devotion. I know I shouldn't do that. I am fully aware that it is inappropriate for me to be in bed with my boss. However, my entire being craves his touch.

"Oh fuck. I want you so badly," is whispered in my ear, and I rest my cheek against his so that my mouth is against his ear.

"Well, what are you waiting for. Take me because I'm yours.

The room begins to spin, but there's no hint of nausea. Before I know it, gaps start to appear in my memory, but the things I do remember send sweet shivers down my spine. Clothes are removed, even though I don't know how- I caress his perfectly shaped chest ... I feel his cock inside my soaking core ... we are riding wildly ... Every thrust brings me closer to a point where my whole body will explode ... In the darkness, I hear my scream as I reach my climax ...a welcome and blissful feeling carries me to the void that's called sleep.

I awaken and attempt to sit up, only to let out a large groan as my head throbs as if it's being drilled into. Before daring to open my eyes, I press my hand against my forehead. Even the dim light in the room is enough to send a jolt of pain through my eyes to my already aching brain, a victim of the dreaded hangover. Confused, I gaze at the dresser, which is all too familiar, yet my clouded memory can't place it. Then it hits me: I'm in Dave's room. And to make matters worse, I'm bare under his sheets. A wave of panic washes over me, and I jolt at the sensation of an arm draped over my hip.

I turn around and gaze upon Dave, who is resting peacefully next to me. Furthermore, he does not appear to be dressed, which makes me nervous. I gently pull his arm away from me and crawl as carefully as I can to the edge of the bed. The clothes are scattered on the floor, and I grab his shirt and throw it over my body. As I am about to leave his room, I hear the groan of him stretching.

Dave inquires in a sexy, sleepy voice, "Where are you going?" I look up at the sky and make a nervous sign, then I turn around and look into his eyes, which are asking questions.

"I... I... Dave, have we?"

He shrugs and says, "I'm not sure." I examine his chest and neck.

"Dave? Turn around?"

"For what reason?"

"Just do it!" I ask annoyed. Dave turns his back to me, and I am able to see it clearly.

"Fuck, we did have sex. My nails have left traces on your back.

Dave looks amused at me before replying, "It's too bad I don't remember anything about it. So, should we do it again? And please use your nails one more time?" he asks whit a big grin.

"Dave? Are you serious?" I take a seat at the edge of his bed and gaze into his eyes.

"Vanessa, you can't deny the attraction between us," he pauses, his attention shifting to his phone as it interrupts us.

"Could you give me some space for a bit? I need to make an urgent call. Feel free to freshen up in the bathroom if you'd like."

"Alright. Shall we discuss everything afterwards?"

"Definitely, we'll cover everything later."

In a flurry of embarrassment, I scoop up my clothes from the floor and dash to the bathroom. I wrestle into my dress, muttering frustrations as the zipper decides to be stubborn at the halfway mark. Staring at my reflection—wild hair framing my face like a lion's mane and makeup smudged—I can't help but laugh at the comedic sight. What a spectacle I must be! Fuck, Vanessa! I must have lost my mind. I can't drink that much ever again. It's a mistake that won't be repeated. I fucked my boss? I fucked my fucking boss!