She sat up on her elbow and immediately fell off it, bouncing her head off the headboard making Jon laugh as she rubbed her head, messing up her hair.
“You really are a strange drunk, mildly amusing, but bloody confusing,” he mused as he brushed her hair smooth again. “How didn’t you want it to be the same as the other night?” he asked again.
“I was already nakey, nakey, naked.” She giggled. “But you said that on that first night you would have put me on all fours then pulled my knickers down so that you could have spanked my arse, but unfortunately, I wasn’t wearing any.” She yawned loudly.
“You wanted me to pull your knickers down?” He needed to clarify her point.
“God yes,” she groaned.
“Why?”
“Because I want you to, to make it more naughty.” She giggled again, this time at the word naughty. “Because I want you to make me feel naughty and humility, humidity . . .” Her giggling continued. “I mean hu-mil-i-ate me,” she corrected by breaking the word down.
“Go to sleep, Steph,” Jon told her, kissing her nose and pulling the covers up over her shoulders as she closed her eyes, drifting off into a sound, alcohol induced sleep.
The soundof Jon’s alarm was blaring around her and as the pain registered she pulled the pillow over her head and attempted to go back to sleep.
“Oh no! Not this morning, darling. This is all self-inflicted, now get your very beautiful arse out of bed and into the shower.” Jon laughed as he pulled the duvet and pillow off her.
“I am not well,” she protested and genuinely felt ill.
“You are hung over, completely hanging out of your arse if we want to be precise, not unwell. Now, come on. You shower and I will make you a drink and get some headache tablets lined up,” he told her gently.
“Thank you, I really shouldn’t drink. I don’t do it all that often and I am not very good at it,” she murmured as she climbed out of bed and obediently got into the shower.
She had showered,washed her hair and brushed her teeth. She felt slightly more human, smiling weakly at her reflection in the bathroom mirror wrapped in a dark blue, fluffy towel with a matching one wrapped around her head. As she exited the bedroom Jon looked up from the kitchen and smiled at her.
“You are still very sexy, but you look like shit.” He smirked as he extended two tablets and a glass of water towards her.
She accepted the headache treatment offered and smiled back at him.
“You look as gorgeous as ever though,” she said seriously.
“Don’t you go flirting with me Miss Pryor or you will be late for work again.” He grinned wickedly, far happier than he probably should be at the notion of her attraction towards him, because God knows, he thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on. “And if your boss gets wind of your shoddy timekeeping he may just have to put you over his desk,” he said arching a brow at her.
“Do you reckon Dave’s into the kinky stuff then?” She faked a very serious expression.
“You are very funny, Stephanie, but not funny enough to stop that coming back to sting you, most probably on your sexy arse,” he replied darkly.
“I do hope so.” She struggled to keep an even tone, her arousal getting the better of her, with or without a hangover.
He watched her closely for a few seconds and considered making them both very late, revisiting the spanking, but then he recalled last night’s revelations and decided that she was a little underdressed again, so it would have to wait, again.
“Go and get dressed and then I will take you for breakfast before work.”
“I can’t face food,” she protested, a small heave confirming her doubts about eating.
“Tough because I am buying breakfast and before you complain about getting fat, don’t,” he said and turned back to the dishwasher signalling the end of that particular conversation.
“You’re the boss,” she conceded as she walked back towards the bedroom.
“Yes I am,” he agreed making her smile as she glanced over her shoulder.
Steph was sittingopposite Jon in the same cafe he had brought her to a few weeks previously before the concert picnic. Today he wore a dark blue suit with a pale blue shirt and a dark blue tie. Steph had opted for a grey pinstripe, knee length pencil skirt with pale, skin tone stay-up stockings in black court stilettos, a pale pink, button through blouse and the matching suit jacket to her skirt and was hoping to keep it grease free. The large, greasy breakfast was placed before her and she swallowed hard hoping not to be sick.
“Is this my penance?” she asked pointing down at the plate.
“For what?”
