Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 60864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
What the hell did I just do?
I just had sex in my kitchen of all places. It was one of the most unsanitary things I could have done and happening right after cleaning meant I was going to have to scrub the place down again. That was beside the fact that I’d just accosted one of my employees. Every rule I had set out for myself, I broke in that one moment of blind passion. How could I be so unfathomably dumb?
Holy hell, I ruined my own afterglow.
I pulled back, sliding out of her while my thoughts went a million miles an hour. I realized her feet weren’t even touching the floor; she had to slide down to touch. I couldn’t believe I had been so bold. So disrespectful of my own space. If anyone else had sex in my kitchen, I would have murdered them with my own two hands.
“We’d better get dressed,” I said, pulling my pants up and realizing they were backward. I spun them around and stuck my foot through, getting caught in them and having to hop over to the counter to balance myself as I got them straight.
Jodi stood, turning around and looking for her clothes. I reached to help her, her pants down near my feet, but she got there first and bent over to grab them. I couldn’t help but stare at her naked body as she did, and I knew if I let my eyes wander for too long, I would be ready for round two in a matter of minutes. If it took that long.
I forced myself to look down at the ground, searching for my shirt and my chef’s jacket. The jacket was easy to find, the big white fabric with the red logo of the vineyard embroidered on it stuck out against the black floor. The black T-shirt on the other hand…
I walked around the prep table looking for it, refusing to look at Jodi as she dressed. It proved harder than I thought it would be. My eyes kept wanting to move over to her, especially when she found her shirt and bra and prepared to put them on. I stole one last glance at her gorgeous chest as she slipped the shirt over her head, not bothering to put on the bra, instead stuffing it into the bag she always had with her and was sitting on a stool by the expediting area.
Finding my shirt crumpled up on the other side of the kitchen meant she must have tossed it pretty hard, which made me grin in spite of myself. I pulled it on and turned around, finally dressed, and met her gaze. She was standing beside the prep table, and both of us slowly looked down onto it.
There was a very clear impression of her body, nipples in the center of the smooshed outline of her breasts, her hips hanging off the edge, and an outline where her face pressed down onto the table as well.
We both looked back up at each other and then after a single beat, burst into laughter. I leaned against the counter, my hand over my mouth as I laughed and she open-mouth giggled. Finally, after I got a little control of myself, I grabbed the spray bottle of cleaner and turned to her again.
“Alright, I’ll spray everything. You come behind me and wipe up with the paper towels. We can get it all again in the morning,” I said.
She nodded, reaching behind her for the paper towels. She followed behind me, both of us occasionally breaking into giggling fits as we sprayed and wiped the areas we had sullied with our naked bodies. When we finally had cleaned up everywhere we had been, she tossed the last of the paper towels, I took the trash bag out of the bin and tied it up, and we walked out, locking the door as we left. She walked with me to the dumpster as I tossed the bag in, and then we made our way to the car, big, goofy grins still on our faces.
The drive home was only a little awkward as neither of us knew what to say. Instead, I flipped on the radio, and we listened to the soft sound of a few classic songs on the drive back. When we got inside, I opened the door and let her in, and she immediately dipped into the office. Figuring that was the end of our night, I went to the kitchen, put new food in Gandalf’s bowl, and made my way to my own bathroom where I hit a shower.
I had a hard time not thinking about what happened in the kitchen as I washed the day away. Part of me wanted to go to bed smelling like her, just to make the moment last longer, but I figured that was dangerous. Even if this was the beginning of something, I didn’t want to fall too hard, too fast. If I was going to keep my cool, I needed to act like I had some in the first place.