pieces | ethma

dancing with our hands tied

Emma

Sex.

I know that's a funny way to tell this story, but that's exactly how it started.

It was a drunken night out with the public relations division of the company I worked at, and of course I ended up sleeping with Ethan Dolan, the assistant director for marketing.

Basically, he's my bosses boss.

It wasn't against the rules for this to happen, but it was unwrittenly frowned upon.

It's not like my reputation around the office was perfect either. I had the occasional rendezvous with other co-workers once in a while.

Never anything serious, but also nothing that caused too much trouble. People still knew though.

As I looked to the left of me, I was met with a whiff of his natural scent, and I saw one of the reasons he's so attractive. He looked so peaceful in his sleep, and his breathing was almost calming to watch.

Last night slowly started to come back to me, and all I could think about was the way he felt against me. The way his breathing synced with mine. The way my hand fit right into his with no awkwardness.

The way he groaned into my skin when he was finishing, and not to mention how fucking hot he looked while he was sweaty and moving his body against mine.

The best part was that I knew I made him feel amazing too.

It wasn't like this wasn't already waiting to happen. I mean, he's so freaking hot. It wasn't a huge wonder why girls were always going after him.

He was one of the hottest men I've ever met, not to mention one of the hottest men I had ever seen.

He especially looked amazing in a suit, which he wore every day at work.

Hot. Damn.

But when I woke up this morning, I wondered how I was gonna go from here. He's one of my superiors at work. How will I get past this?

He woke up, sitting up and running his hand through his hair as he looked around.

A habit he had that I always found incredibly attractive.

He made eye contact with me, and seemed to remember everything all at once. "Ah. You're what happened last night," he said.

I giggled as he gave me his sexy smile.

God, he is so fucking hot.

"I don't remember much," I admitted.

"I can refresh your memory for you," he flirted, getting closer to me and starting to kiss my jaw. I leaned my head back, closing my eyes and reliving his lips on my skin.

The warmth of his skin close to mine was something I didn't know was possible in January. Somehow he felt like the summer sun, yet the outside world was just below freezing.

He ran his tongue from my collarbone up to the spot under my ear, sending shivers down my body, and making my need for him increase as he started to lightly scrape his teeth against my skin.

I haven't had sex in the morning in probably two years. The last time in was in a relationship, there was almost nothing better than starting my day with some good sex.

But that was two years ago, and I've only had night sex since I've been single.

Until now.

There I was, with Ethan's morning stubble brushing between my thighs as he used his tongue against me.

The drunk sex last night was crazy good, but this sober morning sex was ten times better. It was one of those things that was so good that it was borderline bad.

Bad as in we probably shouldn't have been doing this, but it was too good to resist.

Ethan and I left the weekend with a new arrangement to keep seeing each other, but also to keep quiet about it.

It wasn't serious, so there wasn't a reason to tell anyone anyway.

Over the next few weeks, we continued our arrangement of spending our nights in each other's beds, but I started to notice a change in Ethan's behavior.

He started doing little things for me that made it feel like this was becoming more than we both originally intended it to be.

Not to mention the favoritism at work. We were dancing with our hands tied.

By that I mean we weren't telling anybody, but it was starting to get really difficult not to talk about it.

And the day he asked to see me in his office only for him to lock the door and fuck me on his desk, his couch, and against the door.

Thank God those walls were thick.

I knew it was becoming something more than sex when he left his toothbrush at my place, and I didn't even mind.

It was around the two month mark of us sleeping together that he insisted we go on a proper date.

We've fucked countless times for the last two months, but that night was the first time we made love.

I knew Ethan Dolan was something I wasn't getting away from. This wasn't casual anymore. I found myself wanting to stay up and talk all night, and I found myself wanting to tell him about my day.

I found myself wanting to do everything with him. I found myself missing him when he wasn't around.

I was standing in line at the fucking grocery store, and I wished he was there to hang out with me.

I found myself admiring everything about him. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled of laughed, the way he looked when he was concentrating, and the way his voice sounded in the morning.

And the first time he ever told me he loved me felt like a dream. He was mine, and I was his.

We were no one else's.

Nothing else mattered, and I had never been more sure of someone or something in my entire life.

Finally, we decided to be together in a serious way early April of that year.

And we got married exactly one year later to the date.