as me; constantly shifting in her seat, tapping her pen, or drumming her fingernails on our table. At lunch, I debated hauling her ass up to our room for a quickie but decided against it. I want her to be as horny and desperate as I am when we finally get back in bed tonight. She can say what she wants, but this shit between us is not ending tomorrow.
I hold back on the long elevator ride up. I don't even launch myself at her when we got back to our room. I simply go in and flop out on the bed, waiting. How long will it take her to make the first move? I’m betting that she can't last five minutes, and if not, that seals the deal that there is no way this is going to be "just the weekend." I want it all with her; hearts and flowers, romantic, candlelit dinners. Everything.
I prop my hands behind my head and exhale in relief that the day is over. On and on people talked one right after another about jury selection, presenting evidence, and expert witnesses. Tell me something I don't know. Shit, there’s no way to prepare for trying homicide cases. Each and every one is going to be unique with its own challenges. I’m confident that Katie and I could cross those bridges when we came to them.
Am I worried about working with her after sleeping with her? Hell no, because now that we've crossed that line, I’m confident that this thing between us isn't going to end anytime soon, so therefore it won't interfere. Well, other than maybe a few quick office fucks here and there. I guess this means Chad and I are definitely done. That thought is more depressing than I expected it to be, but I can’t have it both ways.
While I was lost in my thoughts, Katie has resumed her position from when we woke up this morning. She straddles me, and looking a little unsure, her mouth still comes down on mine. Less than five fucking minutes. What was that? Maybe two.
I flip us over, ready to show her that I want her without a single doubt. Our clothes go flying and then we’re naked and fucking until we pass out. The passing out occurs a lot earlier tonight since we'd been at it for so many hours the previous night.
Chapter Seven
Katie
It’s ridiculous, but I still have a stupid grin on my face all day Monday. Everyone I pass in the hallways or see on the elevator asks what I’m so happy about. Responding with, “It was just nice to get away for the weekend,” apparently was code that everyone understood for, "I fucked Joe."
It wasn't that hard for them to figure out. Every other single woman and a few married ones assured me that if they'd been sharing a room with Joe Cool they would've fucked him too. That was followed up with the obvious question, how was he in the sack?
Again, without me saying a word, everyone seemed to deduce from my unrelenting smile that it was damn good. I'm not sure if there are words in the English language to describe how it had been. Wonderful? Amazing? Mind-blowing? None of those adjectives do the trick.
The most shocking part of my day, however, came after I'd been home from work for about half an hour. In my comfy cartoon pj's, I look out the peep hole and almost pee myself. How the hell did Joe find out where I live?
Nothing to be done since my car is obviously in the driveway and the lights are on with the TV so loud our neighbors could probably hear. I unlock the door and finally pull it open.
"Joe, what are you doing here?" I ask, trying not to undress his jeans and tee with my eyes.
"I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner."
"I thought we made it clear that we were only…together for the weekend."
"Katie Kat, I asked you to dinner. I didn't ask you to fu-dge me…" Joe barely catches his curse when Drew runs over and interrupts by tugging on my pajama bottoms.
"Kay, Kay, now can I have a cookie, peeeeaaasssee?" he asks, and then he turns his big, blinking green eyes to Joe. As he does with all strangers, he ducks behind me, grabbing onto my legs for dear life.
"Ah,
I hold back on the long elevator ride up. I don't even launch myself at her when we got back to our room. I simply go in and flop out on the bed, waiting. How long will it take her to make the first move? I’m betting that she can't last five minutes, and if not, that seals the deal that there is no way this is going to be "just the weekend." I want it all with her; hearts and flowers, romantic, candlelit dinners. Everything.
I prop my hands behind my head and exhale in relief that the day is over. On and on people talked one right after another about jury selection, presenting evidence, and expert witnesses. Tell me something I don't know. Shit, there’s no way to prepare for trying homicide cases. Each and every one is going to be unique with its own challenges. I’m confident that Katie and I could cross those bridges when we came to them.
Am I worried about working with her after sleeping with her? Hell no, because now that we've crossed that line, I’m confident that this thing between us isn't going to end anytime soon, so therefore it won't interfere. Well, other than maybe a few quick office fucks here and there. I guess this means Chad and I are definitely done. That thought is more depressing than I expected it to be, but I can’t have it both ways.
While I was lost in my thoughts, Katie has resumed her position from when we woke up this morning. She straddles me, and looking a little unsure, her mouth still comes down on mine. Less than five fucking minutes. What was that? Maybe two.
I flip us over, ready to show her that I want her without a single doubt. Our clothes go flying and then we’re naked and fucking until we pass out. The passing out occurs a lot earlier tonight since we'd been at it for so many hours the previous night.
Chapter Seven
Katie
It’s ridiculous, but I still have a stupid grin on my face all day Monday. Everyone I pass in the hallways or see on the elevator asks what I’m so happy about. Responding with, “It was just nice to get away for the weekend,” apparently was code that everyone understood for, "I fucked Joe."
It wasn't that hard for them to figure out. Every other single woman and a few married ones assured me that if they'd been sharing a room with Joe Cool they would've fucked him too. That was followed up with the obvious question, how was he in the sack?
Again, without me saying a word, everyone seemed to deduce from my unrelenting smile that it was damn good. I'm not sure if there are words in the English language to describe how it had been. Wonderful? Amazing? Mind-blowing? None of those adjectives do the trick.
The most shocking part of my day, however, came after I'd been home from work for about half an hour. In my comfy cartoon pj's, I look out the peep hole and almost pee myself. How the hell did Joe find out where I live?
Nothing to be done since my car is obviously in the driveway and the lights are on with the TV so loud our neighbors could probably hear. I unlock the door and finally pull it open.
"Joe, what are you doing here?" I ask, trying not to undress his jeans and tee with my eyes.
"I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner."
"I thought we made it clear that we were only…together for the weekend."
"Katie Kat, I asked you to dinner. I didn't ask you to fu-dge me…" Joe barely catches his curse when Drew runs over and interrupts by tugging on my pajama bottoms.
"Kay, Kay, now can I have a cookie, peeeeaaasssee?" he asks, and then he turns his big, blinking green eyes to Joe. As he does with all strangers, he ducks behind me, grabbing onto my legs for dear life.
"Ah,
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