11
I woke up an hour before sunset with sore muscles and a crick in my neck from lying on something hard. I lifted my head and found the hard thing was John’s chest. The man himself was still asleep and, most importantly, naked. We both were, and the only thing that saved anyone from coming into the room and having an image engraved on their memory was the blanket from over the couch.
That scenario rattled me; what if someone had come in and found us in this, well, compromising position? I blushed to think of the shock, horror, and mental scarring. Hell, what we did struck me with horror; I’d finally done, well, my boss. How could I have let the relationship slip into this? What would he do now that his craving for my flesh was satisfied? Did he think I was a slut? Worse, did he
