The Next Morning After They Kissed

His hands moved with a slow, deliberate touch, sending shivers down my spine. "Oh my God," I thought as I bit my lips, trying to hold back the wave of sensations crashing over me. The warmth of his fingers seeped through the fabric of my dress as he delicately pressed against my chest. 

"Louis... I—" I started to protest, but the words caught in my throat as his hands moved lower, tracing the contours of my body with a softness that made my breath hitch. I couldn't help but close my legs as he ran his hands over them, the sensation making it almost impossible to think clearly.

"Oh my God, this feels so good", my mind whispered, even as a small part of me screamed to stop. I knew I should push him away, that this was crossing a line, but my body was betraying me. Every touch ignited something deep inside, something that craved more, and I couldn't deny how much I was enjoying it.

"Louis, we shouldn't…" I managed to say, my voice trembling, but even as I spoke, I found myself leaning into his touch. The heat between us was overwhelming, the connection undeniable. For a fleeting moment, I let myself get lost in it, surrendering to the pleasure his hands were giving me.

But then, reality broke through the haze of desire. "Oh my God, this is wrong. We have to stop before it goes too far".

I knew I should push him away, but my body was betraying me. Every fiber of my being was drawn to him, the warmth of his touch, the intoxicating rhythm of his hands moving over me. It felt so good, too good, and for a brief moment, I surrendered to the sensation.

But deep down, I knew I had to stop this. I had to shake off the haze of desire clouding my thoughts. With every ounce of willpower I could muster, I forced myself to pull away. My heart raced as I grabbed his hands and moved them away, breaking the spell that had momentarily held me captive. The loss of his touch left me breathless, but I knew it was the right thing to do.

I rushed to the kitchen and quickly poured myself a glass of water, my hands trembling as I gulped it down. My heart was racing, and I could barely catch my breath. I kissed my boss; I just kissed my boss—and I loved it. Oh my God, I kissed Louis Martins! The thought echoed in my mind, sending a fresh wave of disbelief and excitement through me.

I leaned against the counter, trying to steady myself, but the memory of his lips on mine, the way his touch had made me feel, was impossible to shake. What have I done? But even as the question formed, I knew the answer—I'd crossed a line, and part of me didn't regret it at all.

Louis Perspective 

I winced as I felt a annoying headache on my fragile head. The rays coming from the window were piercing, making my eyes squint in discomfort.

"Damn!" I groaned, trying to shift and rest my back against the headboard of my bed. The room seemed to spin slightly with each movement. What happened last night? How many glasses did I drink? I tried to piece together the fragments of my memory, but each attempt only intensified the throbbing pain in my temples. The last thing I remembered was feeling overwhelmed and drinking more than I should have.

I rubbed my temples, trying to soothe the relentless ache. My mouth felt dry and bitter, and the faint taste of alcohol lingered. I struggled to remember if there was anyone else with me, or if I had done something I'd regret. My heart raced as anxiety began to 

I suddenly remembered Claire. Panic surged through me as I stumbled out of bed, my shorts barely staying in place. 

"Oh my God! Did I do anything to her?" I thought, my mind racing with fear. "God, please tell me I didn't hurt her or force myself on her." My heart pounded in my chest as I frantically searched the room, looking for any sign of her.

I opened the door to my room and glanced around the house, my eyes darting from one corner to the next. "Where can she be?" I wondered aloud, feeling a deep sense of dread. I hurried through the corridors, calling out her name. "Claire? Claire, are you here?"

My worry only grew as I searched every room, hoping to find her safe and sound. The last thing I wanted was to have done something that could harm her or damage our relationship.

I found her fast asleep in the living room. A wave of relief washed over me, and I couldn't help but smile. There she was, all covered up like a baby, peacefully resting on the couch. I knelt down beside her, taking a moment to admire her delicate features.

Her pointed nose and the birthmark I had never noticed before added to her unique charm. Her ginger hair was tousled and fell across her face, partially obscuring her eyes. I gently reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face, mesmerized by how angelic she looked. 

Her lips, those soft, inviting lips… I couldn't help but linger on that thought. 

"Wait, what am I thinking?" I chided myself internally. "She's just my secretary. Nothing more." But as I studied her, I realized how stunning she truly was. The sight of her, so serene and beautiful, made me see her in a new light.

I looked at her, my heart fluttering with a mix of awe and regret. "This lady is truly beautiful," I thought, unable to tear my eyes away from her. "I want her for myself."

Her delicate features captivated me. I noticed the soft curve of her cheek, the way her ginger hair fell like a curtain across her face, partially hiding those expressive eyes. Her lips, which had touched mine last night, seemed even more inviting now that she was at peace.

I gently brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, my fingers lingering on her skin. "Her beauty is more than skin deep," I mused. "She looks so angelic, almost like a dream I never knew I had."

But then a wave of guilt washed over me. "Wait, what on earth am I thinking, Louis?" I admonished myself. "You're still married, and this is not fair to her. You need to respect her boundaries."

I shook my head, trying to clear the conflicting thoughts. "You need to keep it together," I reminded myself. "She's just my secretary. I've got no right to impose my feelings on her, especially not now."

I gently shook her shoulder, hoping to wake her, but she only mumbled and turned away. "Claire," I whispered, trying again. She remained in her peaceful slumber, her face hidden from view.

I stood there, unsure of what to do next. "Hmm, what should I do now?" I thought, glancing around the room. "Should I find a feather and tickle her ears? That seems like a lot of effort right now."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Maybe I should just let her sleep and figure things out later," I decided. The last thing I wanted was to disturb her rest with any more awkwardness or complications.

But no, I needed answers. I couldn't just leave things as they were. I had to find out what had happened, and the best way to wake her up seemed to be with a gentle tickle.

I carefully reached for her side, trying to keep my touch light and non-intrusive. As my fingers began to tickle her, I hoped it would be enough to rouse her from sleep without startling her too much. 

"Claire, come on, wake up," I murmured softly, trying to balance the urgency of my need for answers with the desire not to cause her discomfort.

Claire couldn't help but laugh as she felt my fingers tickling her sides. Her sudden reaction made her kick me with her feet, and before I could react, I found myself sprawling on the floor. 

"Ouch!" I groaned, rubbing my now sore backside. Claire stirred, her laughter fading as she blinked awake. 

"Louis? What's going on?" she asked, her voice still thick with sleep. I looked up at her, trying to maintain a semblance of composure despite the unexpected tumble. 

"I was trying to wake you up," I said, struggling to keep the situation light. "I needed some answers, and apparently, tickling was the way of choice."

"What happened last night?" I asked, my voice tinged with worry. "I can't remember anything. Did I do anything to you?"

Claire's eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks flushing slightly. She hesitated before speaking. "No, Louis. Nothing happened between us. You were upset and drunk, and I just helped you out. It's all good."

I let out a relieved sigh. "Thank goodness . Why don't you get ready? I'll drive you home afterward."

Claire nodded and began to gather her things. I headed to the bathroom for a quick shower, needing to clear my head and freshen up before the drive. The hot water was soothing, and I took a few moments to reflect on things.