CHAPTER FIFTEEN

When I returned to my apartment that evening, my body was singing with unspent energy. James’ effect on me was so bad, I wanted to hump my coffee table, and that was saying something.

Practically running to the kettle, I shoved it under the tap and smacked the switch down. Camomile tea. It was supposed to be calming and soothing, and it was the closest I’d get to what I really wanted, which was copious amounts of alcohol.

Unfortunately, years of training had taught me that in high stress situations, you needed to have all your wits about you, and alcohol, or indeed its aftereffects, weren’t going to help me get through my little situation tomorrow.

No, but several orgasms might. I literally watched the kettle boil while I jumped frantically up and down. My clit was throbbing in earnest, and all I wanted to do was give it some much-needed attention, but I had to get my cup of post-climatic tea first.

There was no way I was getting out of my bed once I’d settled down under my duvet,