Peeling Back the Top Layer 🇯🇲

30| Exhausted and bruised

In the five years I've been working with my employer I've never taken a sick day — until today. Too tired to even get out of bed, I sent an email to my boss after silencing my alarm at 6:30 this morning and then I went straight back to sleep.

Chaunard left shortly after our wild spontaneous session in the living room yesterday evening and boy were we exhausted, swollen and bruised.

We were unable to carry on a proper telephone conversation after he got back home. I fought to keep the yawns at bay and he kept drifting off while we were talking despite constantly denying that he was sleepy.

All that sex and the insufficient sleep took a toll on our bodies. And we aren't exactly young anymore. The extra four hours of sleep this morning was well needed. It worked wonders in rejuvenating and re-energizing both my mind and body.

The woman staring back at me in the mirror agrees that the results were absolutely worth sullying my perfect attendance record. Her skin looks flawless and she is radiating a glow that could be seen from a mile away.

That's when I notice a hickey, red and prominent, on my neck. A blush creeps across my face at the memory of Chaunard's lips on that spot when he was fucking me senseless from behind last night.

The way one of his hand clasped around my throat while the other held me in place at the hip; how he spread my legs so I couldn't move, and the whisper of his breath against my skin. The sex was quick, fierce and carnal.

"Mine... say it," he growled in my ear, squeezing a little tighter.

"Yeah babe... yours... all yours," I gasped for air.

"A nex man nuffi even breathe pon yuh." With that warning, a powerful orgasm rolled through me. Had he not been holding me up I'd have collapsed onto the floor.

He has stirred up a huge sexual appetite and brought out a side to me that I never knew existed. And the good part is that he knows how to take care of it.

The memory doesn't distract me for long. I don't let it. Instead, I choose to pump the feel good vibes into taking on the chores that I neglected all weekend, starting with laundry. My bedsheets are the first to go as I quickly stop them off and load them into the washing machine before breakfast.

A selection of my favorite reggae songs sets the tone and gets me going on the other tasks I have in mind, which includes cleaning the two bathrooms, my bedroom, the spare one, and the main area. I might even tackle the gym too.

What can I say, with the mood I'm in, I could easily turn the whole house upside down and make it right again if needed.

The gift bag Chaunard handed me yesterday is still in a corner of the living room waiting to be opened. Inside, I find a body scrub and scented candles from Miss Jay and there's also a small box from him. It contains a Pandora bracelet with a single charm that has a heart with 'Lucky to have you' written on it.

He only told me that there was something from him in the bag but he didn't say what. "It's something that I will fill with little trinkets that are significant to us," is all he said.

Returning to the task at hand, I sweep and wipe the floor, shifting around furniture to get into the corners. When I'm done in my bedroom and about to move from into the passage, he calls and I quickly insert my EarPods to answer.

"Good afternoon Mr. Riley. How may I be of service to you today?" I ask, donning my most professional voice.

"Hello Ms. Taylor, could I please have another round of what I was served in your living room last night?" He picks up on the gist and carries on with the pretense.

"Are you referring to what you helped yourself to Mr. Riley? If my memory is correct, I didn't serve you anything. You forcefully took what you wanted then left."

"But Ms. Taylor, the art of seduction could be considered an invitation. Based on my recollection, you were warned of the outcome yet you insisted on poking the bear. You should know that there are consequences for your actions."

"Oh no Mr. Riley. You ought to learn the art of self control. Otherwise, you're going to land yourself in trouble if you're so easily persuaded to indulge in sex."

"You are sorely mistaken Ms. Taylor. I am not easily persuaded. At least, not by just anyone... I am weak to you."

Had his tone remained playful with this statement then I'd think he's joking but he says those last five words with so much conviction that all thoughts flee my mind.

He lowers his voice a few octaves so that his simple utterance rolls smoothly from his tongue with sincerity. There's a pregnant pause between us. I'm really at a loss for words.

"Mr. Riley, you shouldn't throw around meaningless words just so that you can have your way." I speak meekly with a slight hoarse although I tried my best to continue in the vibrant tone from earlier.

"Who says they are meaningless Kel? I find you very hard to resist. That's the truth." His speech is certain and sincere. There's no room for questioning.

"Oh really?" I ask, swallowing hard.

"Yes... I'm coming by to see you later," he switches to a more casual tonality that takes the edge off the conversation a bit.

"Spending the night?"

"That depends..."

"On what?"

"If you want me to," he says.

"Oh okay."

"So what do you want, Kel?" He asks when a few seconds pass and I say nothing else.

"I want you to spend the night."

"Okay then. I'll see you this evening."

Our call ends and I feel life return to my body with renewed vibrancy. I didn't realize how rattled I was until now. It's almost like everything inside me slowed to a pause the second he said he's weak to me.

Thinking about him fills me with an indescribable craving and immense joy and I want nothing more right now than to be in his arms. What is this feeling and why does it turn my insides into mush?

An incoming call from Marsha grabs my attention and I croak out a shaky "Hello," into the speaker.

"Yuh alright?" she asks. I hear the concern in her voice and I can tell that she's driving.

"Yeah. Mi good," I clear my throat and try to assure her with as much calmness as I can muster.

"Oh... Yuh frighten me. Wi deh near yuh workplace. Yuh can come get lunch wid wi? Mi have a likkle situation weh mi need fi run by yuh. I don't know if yuh can help."

"Who is 'we'? And mi nuh deh work today," I tell her.

"Hiiii Kelsie," Gillian yells in the background.

"Hey Gilli. Mi shoulda know seh a you," I laugh.

"Why yuh nuh deh work? Yuh sure yuh alright?" Marsha presses.

"I called in sick so I could get some extra sleep. I was too tired to go in this morning. I'm at home," I explain, preempting her next two questions. I just want to get her off the phone. She is interrupting my feel-good thoughts and memories after all.

"She dick-matized to rass," she blurts out, cackling with Gillian on the other end of the line.

"Shut up and come to di house if yuh need mi help," I scold, adding, "and bring two cheese patty and a June Plum juice as payment for my services."

When the call ends, my mind goes right back to where it was -- wrapped up in thoughts of CHaunard, the way he looks at me, the way he touches me and the way he makes me feel.

I try to snap myself out of the enchantment but his words replay in my mind. "I'm weak to you."  Was it a true confession or a sweet lie? I guess time will tell. What would he have to gain from misleading me though?