Nice Day For A White Wedding

“Actually, I’m not in the habit of sleeping with my employees either,” he says.

I smile, a shy smile full of the hope I feel. This isn’t as awkward as I thought it was going to be and I’m starting to think we’ll be ok, that we can just forget this ever happened and move past it. Forgetting it might be a stretch. I can barely look at Alex without remembering how amazing his cock felt inside of me, how his kiss awoke parts of me I didn’t know were dormant. But I can move past it. I think.

“So we can both agree it shouldn’t have happened,” I go on.

Alex nods.

“And that it can’t … no, not can’t, but shouldn’t, happen again.”

Alex’s eyes are twinkling, and I get the impression my discomfort is amusing him.

“We’re both adults. We can move forward and put this one night down to drinking a bit too much and getting caught up in the moment,” I finish.

“There’s only one problem with that, Cindy,” Alex says.

I feel dread in my stomach, even though he’s smiling. He’s going to tell me we can’t work together after this or something. I’m going to lose The Macau because of one stupid, amazing mistake.

“What?” I ask quietly.

He looks me straight in the eye, his gaze so intense I want to look away, but I find that I can’t. He holds me as surely as if he was holding me physically in place.

“I didn’t drink too much,” he says.

As he says it, he pushes a hand into my hair and pulls my face towards his. Our lips meet. I kiss Alex back as if my life depended on it. I am completely unable to stop myself because my body betrays me and responds to him. My clit starts throbbing with need, and my skin is tingling as if I’ve been walking in a storm. On their own accord my hands move out to touch Alex’s chest, his arms, his back.

I don’t know what exactly comes over me when I’m around Alex, but it’s potent. It’s like he casts some sort of spell over me, a spell that makes me lose all sense or self-preservation or responsibility. I don’t care about the consequences of my actions at all. I just want him.

I feel myself moving, my body acting without my head’s permission. I throw one leg over Alex and sit straddling him, kissing him, drinking him in. His hands move up and down my back and over my sides. I can feel his hard cock pressing against my pussy. My head screams that I have to stop this. Once (okay, more than once, but since it happened in one night, it can be classified as happening in one long continuous timeframe) can be classified as a mistake, but doing it in the harsh glare of sobriety … I tear myself from his kiss.

“Alex, we can’t do this,” I gasp.

“We can’t?” he replies with not an ounce of seriousness in his voice.

“It would be a big mistake.”

“Mmmm.”

“I work for you and we should remain professional. I hate the idea of women who sleep with their bosses.” I frown down at Alex who is smiling.

“Uh … huh.”

“Is that all you can say?” I demand.

“No, but I’d find it much easier to believe you if you weren’t straddling me and rubbing your hot wet pussy across my cock while you’re saying it.”

“I … oh.”

He’s right, of course. I don’t want to talk him out of this at all. I want him to talk me into it. To tell me it’s ok for us to do this again. He seems to get the message and he obliges.

“Sure, you work for me, but we’re also kind of on holiday. We’re obviously hungry for each other, so why don’t we get it out of our systems while we’re here. Then when we go home, we can have that professional relationship you want without the chemistry.”

I have to admit I like the sound of that. “So just a bit of no strings fun that ends when we go back to London?” I ask.

He shrugs. “If that’s what you want.”

“I can work with that,” I say as I lean back down and kiss Alex again.

Can I though? Can I really let him go when my time here is over? Of course I can, I tell myself. It’s not going to be any worse than letting him go now would be, and at least this way, I get some fun first. Who knows, maybe he’ll be right and this will get it out of my system and I won’t want him like this once we get home, the law of diminishing returns and all that. In my heart, I know it won’t work like that, but I cling to the idea almost as tightly as I cling to him.