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Sunday afternoon
and Jason had spent the entire weekend at her apartment.  Saturday morning they
had retrieved her car, Jason changing the tire for her, and he had made a quick
stop at his house so he could feed Lenny and grab some clothes before returning
to her apartment.
    The weekend had passed in a blur of sex and
sleeping and sharing of stories.  Jason had been open and warm, telling her
everything he could think of about himself.  He was a natural story teller and
she had been fascinated by the information he had shared.  She could hardly
believe that she used to think him cold and rude.  He was funny and sweet and
took great delight in teasing her gently until she was blushing and flustered. 
He hadn’t just talked about himself.  In fact, he had been relentless in his
need to know everything about her.  Lying in her bed, tucked against his warm
body with the only light coming from the moon through the window, it had been
surprisingly easy to tell him things she had never shared with previous
boyfriends.
    Boyfriend.  Her stomach churned nervously
at the word.  Is that what he was to her?  She swiped her hand across her
forehead.  She didn’t have a clue what he was.  She only knew that at some
point in the last day or so Jason had become more important to her then she
could ever have imagined.  And that scared the shit out of her.
    Having a brief, sex-filled fling with her
boss was one thing but falling in love with him was an entirely different set
of problems.  You’re not in love with him, she told herself nervously.  You’re
not.  You’re not the type of girl who falls in love with someone after only a
few short weeks.
    Her gaze fell on one of the kitchen
chairs.  Jason had sat on that chair yesterday afternoon and bent her naked body
over his lap.  He had held her firmly with one arm across her back and spanked
her again, alternating the firm slaps with slow caresses of her ass until she
was squirming with desire, her hands squeezing the legs of the chair and her
toes curling.  She had been embarrassed by how much it had turned her on. 
    She could still remember the feel of his
erection pushing against her belly, the way he had occasionally dipped his hand
between her legs to gauge her wetness, and how at the end she had begged him
repeatedly to fuck her.  He had lowered her to the floor and taken her, his
voice whispering a continuous litany of dirty talk and compliments into her
ear, until she had come screaming beneath him. 
    She rubbed at her forehead again and looked
nervously out the doorway into the small living room, trying to calm her aching
for him.  It was a mistake.  She immediately zeroed in on the couch and her
blue scarf that still lay across the arm of it.  They had ordered pizza
Saturday night, sitting side by side and sharing the large pizza as they
watched bad reality TV.
    After a couple of hours Jason had shut the
TV off and disappeared into her bedroom.  She was about to follow him when he
had returned with one of her scarves in his hands.  He had stared at her, his
eyebrows lifted in silent question, and when she had nodded her consent he had
tied her hands behind her back before starting a delicious torment of soft
touches and feather-light kisses.  He had bent her over the back of the couch,
spread her legs as she pulled helplessly at the scarf, and brought her to orgasm
three times before allowing himself to come.
    She turned abruptly and began to unload the
dishwasher.  If she was completely honest with herself, it wasn’t the rough sex
or the bondage that was really freaking her out.  She could accept that there
was a part of her that liked being tied up and enjoyed submitting to Jason in
bed.  It was the other side of him, the side that had crept in so silently and
sneakily that she hadn’t even noticed it until this morning that was making her
nervous. 
    At some point over the weekend, Jason had
stopped fucking her and started making love to