Judging by his slow, steady breathing, he was already drifting off to sleep. She took a deep breath, bringing an arm up to cover her breasts, staring at the ceiling, trying not to freak out. It was useless to freak out. What was done was done. But, Jesus Christ, what the fuck was she thinking? The casual sex thing wasn't the problem. She was fine with casual sex. She had enjoyed her fair share of flings and friends with benefits and whatever the hell else people like to call it when you shared your naughty bits with another person who wasn't a significant other. The difference was, she knew how to navigate those. She was the one who decided when it started. How often they would meet up. When. Where. For how long. She was always the one to get up and leave after. She was ultimately the one who put and end to it. This was complicated. He was her boss, technically. And she knew herself. She knew she would resent him all the more when he tried to assert his power now that they had screwed around.
