My  eyes  hold  his  for  a  moment  as  I  try  to  reconcile  what  just  happened  and  I  shake  my  head  in


    confusion. “Whatever,” I snap. Holy shit, I just had sex with a married man. He probably has kids. My


    stomach rolls at the thought. Oh my God, he didn’t wear a condom. Fuck.


    He bends and chastely kisses me on the lips. “I’ll see youter.”


    I narrow my eyes at him. “I doubt that.”


    He stands still for a moment assessing my words. “What?” He snaps angrily.


    I shake my head and roll over and turn my back to him. This is unfucking believable. “Close the door


    on your way out,” I sneer.


    I wake  to  my  body  lurching  forward.  Oh  no.  I’m  going  to  be  sick.  I  run  through  the  apartment  to  the


    bathroom and vomit violently.


    Hell.


    Perspiration dampens my skin. I slide down the wall and sit on the floor between the bath and the


    sink, my skin against the cold tiles. I’m hot and mmy and so, so sick.


    Damn him.


    What the hell kind of night was that? I put my face into my hands in disgust.


    I stand, and with shaky hands I turn the tap on in the shower. I need to wash this dirty feeling from my


    body. My eyes stare down at the sink and I see his watch sitting on the counter. I pick it up and stare at it,


    allowing my mind to drift back tost night.


    “Get in here, you gorgeous thing.” He’d smiled broadly as he’d undone his watch, sitting it on the


    bench before he had pulled me underneath the water with him. We kissed, long and tender after our fifth or


    sixth  lovemaking  session.  There’d  been  no  embarrassment  of  my  body,  no  shame,  only  the  feeling  of


    overwhelming affection and fun.


    My heart hurts.


    How stupid and jaded could I have been?


    I bend to wash myself and wince in pain. I’m so sore and I know he would be, too. We had rough sex


    for hours and hours until, in the end, he had nothing left to give. Our bodies gave up before our minds did,


    and even after the overwhelming sexual need was over, we had still kissed in each other’s arms for hours.


    For a while I had felt so safe.


    What if his wife or girlfriend wants sex today? Would he have it with her?


    My eyes fill with tears. I have never felt so used. After the most amazing night of my life, he went to


    someone else’s bed. She called him while he was naked with me.


    My eyes widen in horror and I dry retch again. Oh no, he didn’t wear a condom. I was so lost in the


    moment that I totally forgot a condom and he didn’t bring it up.


    What in the hell is wrong with me? I got caught at my work jacking him off. I yed a tequ drinking


    game and had awesome mind blowing sex with a married man.


    Who have I turned into?


    I slump down to the floor of the shower and cry shameful, dirty tears.Text property ? N?vel(D)ra/ma.Org.


    They say if you let your soul be still you will learn three new things about yourself every day. Frankly, the


    things I have learnt about myself in the past five days are just damn disturbing. It’s been five days since


    Mr.  star  O’Shea  left  me  in  the  early  hours  of  the  morning,  and  to  be  honest,  I  have  never  been  so


    rattled in all of my life. I haven’t heard a word from him and I don’t expect to, either.


    Probably the most disturbing piece of information came to me today when I realized that, if given the


    chance, I would do it again.


    Tonight.


    Any night. In fact, I would go as far as to say if he was driving down the street I would probably run


    out  in  front  of  his  car  so  he  could  knock  me  over.  Then,  and  only  then,  would  the  bastard  have  to


    acknowledge me and acknowledge this shitty feeling he has left in my gut. Longing and guilt all rolled into


    disgust. I even went and had blood tests on Monday in my lunch break. If he didn’t wear a condom with


    me  he  obviously  doesn’t  wear  them  with  anyone  else,  either,  and  with  sexual  skills  like  that,  I  am


    imagining he gets a lot of practice in. My eyes close in pain as I remember the drinking game. How many


    women has he yed that with? I bet it has 100% sess rate because I fell for it, hook line and sinker.


    I’m disgusted with myself.


    No man has ever affected me like star. His beautiful eyes and that body were built for sin. I keep


    seeing  his  face  and  the  way  that  he  looked  at  me  when  we  were  making  love.  I  can  feel  the  way  he


    touched  me  and  I’m  aching  for  him  to  touch  me  again.  I  drop  my  head  into  my  hands,  aware  that  I’m


    turning into someone I don’t like. I look up from my desk toward reception and Stephanie narrows her


    beady little eyes at me.


    Stephanie, also known as the blonde bust-a-move chick from reception. I picked Travis’ mind for the


    gossip, and coincidentally enough, she is the chick who has slept with Mark in the past. Now that I know


    this I can easily see by the way her eyes follow him around the office that she still has a thing for him.


    Unfortunately, for her, and me, his eyes are following my ass around the office.


    This whole situation is one big fuck up. I know I have to tell mark that I just want to be friends, but to


    be honest, I feel too weak at the moment to even go there. There is absolutely no fight left in this soul of


    mine.