Two positions and three orgasms later, two from me and one from Josh, he’s fallen off me and ditched the condom into a tissue. We stare at the ceiling; the only sound is our gasping breaths.
“I need a fucking gym membership,” I huff, barely able to move my muscles.
Josh grunts. “I have one, and I’m still spent.”
I turn to him as his mouth hangs open, his sculpted chest rising and falling. “That was some seriously athletic shit.”
“Thanks?”
“Oh, it’s a compliment. Probably the only one you’ll ever hear from me.”
He smiles. Barely. “Well, I quite enjoyed spanking you. It felt like pretty good payback after you dropped pie on my cock earlier today.”
I giggle tiredly. “Sorry about that. I blacked out then too.”
“It was worth it,” he says with a sigh. “Because you seriously have a fucking exquisite ass.”
I check his expression. Is he joking?
His eyes are closed, and a cute, post-coital smile plays on his face.
Doesn’t seem like a joke.
I shake my head and giggle. “Who uses the word exquisite after sex?”
He huffs out a laugh. “I guess I do.”
Images of him spanking me flood my mind. “God, my friend Kate will never let me live this night down.”
“Is that the sex writer?”
“Erotic romance novelist,” I retort with a defensive edge to my voice.
“Got it.”
We both grow quiet for a moment, our breaths recovering as a relaxing exhaustion sets in.
“I’m going to leave,” I state, glancing at Josh whose eyes are doing long, heavy blinks. Man, his jaw is sexy.
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Whatever.”
Another moment passes, and I swear I gain a thousand pounds because I can’t even begin to lift myself off this comfy bed. “Aaany minute now, I’m getting up.”
He turns his head to look at me, but his eyes close as he murmurs, “I can call you an Uber when you’re ready.”
I let my eyes drift closed just for a second. “In a minute.”
An annoying ringing wakes me from my slumber, and my eyes attempt to crack open, but my mascara has somehow fused my lashes together. I fumble for my phone and briefly see MOM on the caller ID. I swipe right and croak, “Hello?”
“Hello?” Mom mimics.
“Mom…what?”
“What?”
“You called me,” I bark defensively. I swear we’ll be in the next century before my mother learns how to actually use her freaking smart phone.
“Who is this?” she asks, confusion in her voice that sounds kind of funny.
“Mom, who are you trying to call?” I grumble, annoyed now and still attempting to pry my lashes open.
“I’m trying to call my son!” the voice snaps back. “Now, who the hell is this?”
My lashes rip as my eyes shoot open.
Shit. This isn’t my mother.
I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it in horror.
Not my phone.
I look around me.
Not my bed.
I gaze at the empty space next to me and hear the faint sound of a shower from the master bath.
Not my house!
“Um…” I mumble into the phone because the woman is demanding to know who she’s speaking to. “I’m the cleaning lady.”
“Cleaning lady?” she snaps back. “Lana?”
“Who’s Lana?” I slap my forehead, my brain going haywire.
“My son’s cleaning lady,” the woman says firmly.
“Oh…Lana!” I exclaim with a force laugh that sounds like really, really bad acting. “I’m filling in for her.”
“Where’s Lana?”
I swallow. “Her…daughter’s bat mitzvah?”
“Lana is a devout Catholic.”
“Her daughter’s not,” I say, scrambling for a better lie so I don’t have to explain that I’m her son’s one-night stand.
“Who the hell is this?” she says impatiently.
“Gotta go!” I exclaim, clicking end before throwing the phone on the bed. “Holy shit.” I grab my hair. Crap. I’m still naked.
I glance at the clock. It’s five in the morning.
Why is this man’s mother calling him at five in the morning?
Boundary issues.
The shower is still going, so I scramble off the bed and dart around, tossing pillows in search of my things.
“Where the hell are my clothes?” I find no traces of them. I yank the blankets off the bed. Nothing. “Seriously, what the hell!”
The shower turns off, and my entire body flushes with fear. I let that guy, who may as well have been a perfect stranger, spank me last night. And now I’ve answered a phone call from his mother, like a crazy woman, at five in the freaking morning.
Jesus, this is mortifying.
I grab my phone and order an Uber and could cry with relief when I see it will be here in three minutes. Thank goodness for small favors.
Giving up on my clothes, I rush to the walk-in closet and slip on a pair of gray joggers, rolling them eight times at the waist, and throw on a crisp white dress shirt. If this asshole took my clothes, then it’s only fair to steal his. I grab my heels and creep toward the living room.
My phone pings with a notification that the Uber is here just as I reach the front door. I quietly open it, tiptoe out, and glance back at the house. Thank God I’m done with my thesis. The thought of running into that hot asshole at the cafeteria after the night we just shared would be more awkward than him being my actual doctor.
Three Months Later
“So this is where I need to come to get some actual face time with my best friend,” I joke, striding into Tire Depot Customer Comfort Center to find my wild, redheaded friend sprawled at one of the high-top tables, clicking away on her laptop like she does this every day. Because she does.
Kate’s blue eyes widen with recognition as she spreads her arms wide. “Lyns! Welcome to my office!”
I laugh and shake my head, dropping onto the stool next to her. “I hear the coffee here is awesome.”
She twirls off her stool and heads to the fancy automated coffee machine, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll get you the Mercedes Lee Loveletter special…a long espresso.”
“Thanks, I need it,” I say as she returns with the Styrofoam cup.
“Talk to me,” Kate urges, her brows pinched. “I’m sorry I’ve been so MIA. This book is kicking my ass, and I just had to hermit until I finished.”
“How close are you?” I ask, my mood lifting. “You’ve got to hurry up and type ‘The End’ so we can do our tradition of celebrating. I need a big night out.”
“I should finish by next week!” She grabs my arm excitedly.
“Good.” I pin her with a serious stare. “Then you, me, and Dean need to hang out. I miss your face! And I especially miss hearing you taunt Dean for wearing shirts with anchors on them.”
Kate giggles. “Or those capri-length skinny slacks he wears in the summer with boat shoes?”
“Yesss.”