I blush when I remember that Mike took me straight from the balcony into the shower, equipped with no less than eight water nozzles. He slowly washed me, and then himself, and when he was done, he pushed me gently down to my knees and said, “Let’s see how fast you can get me back into the game.”
That thought alone starts my blood flowing because it was incredibly domineering, but also incredibly hot. Plus, I had been imagining doing that to him anyway, so it was with a happy smile on my face that I took him into my mouth. I was never very good at giving a blow job—I think because I just didn’t enjoy doing it. But for some reason… with Mike… it was an almost divine experience for me. I knew he was exhausted, and he had just come supremely hard not ten minutes before, but I immediately wrought out strained groans and hip flexes with my touch, and yeah… it didn’t take him that long at all to get back into the game again.
Then it was on for some all-out, slippery good shower sex.
Finally, we crashed on the bed, spooning and dozing for a few hours, his arms wrapped tightly around me. I woke to him poking me from behind as his hand went between my legs again. Within moments, I was ready for him, and he had lifted my leg to enter me from behind.
Finally, yes… finally, because dayum… I was getting a little sore, Mike told me he wanted to give me a big send off. He crawled back between my legs once more, putting that gorgeous face and those sinful lips against me, and made me come one last time. I’ll have to say, he had to work for it that time, because I was beyond exhausted. I had even pushed his head away at one point, telling him to forget about it… I didn’t think I had another orgasm in me, but he merely swatted my hands away while growling and doubled up on his efforts. It took him thirty minutes, but he got the job done, and I’m proud to say that last time he made me come was the strongest of them all.
Then… it was over.
We got dressed, walked down to the lobby together, and Mike waited for me to get a cab. He gave me a soft kiss on my lips and whispered, “That may have been the best night of my life. I shit you not!”
I snickered on the inside, because… come on… seriously? A guy like Mike has some major experience, and I’m betting he’s had many nights like that. But for me… I won’t lie… it was absolutely the best freakin’ sex I’d ever had in my life, and I’m pretty sure it can’t be topped.
“Are you going to give me the juicy details or not?” Macy complains.
“Or not,” I grumble, trying to burrow deeper into my covers. It’s Sunday, and I plan to sleep most of it away.
“Fine,” she huffs. “Just tell me… on a scale of one to ten—”
“Eleven,” I cut her off before she can even finish.
“Eleven?” she asks, stunned.
“Solid eleven,” I assure her.
That satisfies her for now and she jumps off my bed, yelling that she’s going to make us breakfast, but already my eyes are starting to close from fatigue. No sooner do they shut though, than my phone starts ringing. Grabbing it from the nightstand, I see it’s from my boss, Lorraine Cummings. It’s not a call I can ignore. It doesn’t matter what I’m doing, or what time of the day or night, she always expects me to answer.
Clearing my throat, I try to sound chipper when I say, “Good morning, Lorraine. What can I do for you?”
“I have some important news, McKayla. I need you to get down to the office right now.”
Un-fucking-believable.
It’s my first day on my new job, and Monday is as craptastic as ever. I’m running fifteen minutes late.
And yes, a new job.
Just Friday… when I had left the office, I worked for Lorraine Cummings, a ferocious bulldog of an attorney who has made my life a living hell. She demanded no less than eighty-hour work weeks, and she liked to think I was her own personal, verbal punching bag. She demanded, never said thank you, and usually yelled at me fifty percent of the time I was in her near vicinity.