Erin tiptoed inside; she turned the knob on the door handle and rested her palm against the door before silently shutting it closed. She locks it, but she doesn't immediately turn around. Her forehead falls against it, to rest against it. And she stays that way, not even bothering to move when she hears Milo approach. He whines, nuzzling his head against her leg when he senses his person is not her usual self. It's late. She should be in the bed because she has work early in the morning. She should shower too, preferably before she climbs into bed.
She should have been more responsible. She should have checked with him to ensure he was clean. She should have used protection but that was the last thing on her mind. She just wanted a release and by any means necessary, she got it.
Erin stepped away from the front door and leaned down to rub the top of her dog's head; she scratched behind his ear and Milo immediately took that as permission to roll over on his back and pout up at her, requesting with his eyes for a tummy rub. She complied. Stooping low even in her high heels and despite the ache settling in between her legs, she gave in and gave him a belly rub that lasted long enough to make up for her absence.
"I got to get some rest, Milo," she whispered. But, most of the lights were on in Kim's apartment which led her to believe that her best friend was up, "Honey," Erin called out, "I'm home." It's become a gag of theirs, to greet each other like a married couple in a 50s day sitcom.
When there was no response, she took a cautious step further into the apartment, glancing around her surroundings in search of her oldest friend. With each step, she kicked off a heel. One went to the left and the other went to the right. She'll bother with those tomorrow when her feet don't hurt, when she's rested, showered and hopefully when the soreness between her legs has eased up a bit. She knew it wouldn't be gone by tomorrow, if anything, it'll only hurt more, but a girl can hope, right? Erin stops under the threshold connecting the hallway entrance to the living room to find Burgess lounging in an arm chair, fast asleep. Not wanting to be questioned about the state of her mangled shirt, she dipped into her bedroom, dropping the shirt to the floor before pulling on a tank top. It didn't match her outfit but knowing Burgess, she'd be too consumed in her thoughts and her questions to notice and point it out.
Erin went back out into the living room, noticing that not once did Kim stir in her sleep, not once did she show signs of joining the conscious world. Erin stooped down at the side of the arm chair to brush her fingers through her friend's bangs before softly whispering, "Kim," there was no movement, "Kim," her friend started to stir so she continued, "Kim, I'm home. You can go in your room and get a decent night's sleep."
"I wasn't waiting up for you," she yawned. But, they both knew that wasn't the truth, "I just fell asleep out here. I was on my phone and I must have blinked for too long."
Erin smiled, just the sound of her friend's voice, -albeit groggy- was comforting, "Come on, get up. Your neck is going to hurt if you keep lying down like that."
"What…what time is it?" Kim stretches. She struggles to push herself up so Erin assists her.
"It's almost two in the morning."
"…and you're just getting home?"
Slowly, Erin nods and before her friend can give her the third degree, she says, "…yeah. I uh, I had a really good time tonight. I actually uh, I met a guy."
"What happened to the high and mighty road of being single?"
"I am single," Erin immediately corrects, "and that's not changing. I met a guy. I hooked up with said guy. And then we parted ways. That's it; that's all. I don't even know anything about him."
"Erinnnnnn," Kim drawled, wrapping both hands around Erin's wrist and yanking her gently, "I can't believe you passed up a perfect opportunity to get back on the saddle."
"…oh, I got on the saddle alright and rode it for hours."
Kim's eyes practically bulge, "Hours? Who is this man? And does he have a brother? I'm suffering from a dry spell; I need to get laid."
"Like I said, I don't know anything about him."
"…but what he looks like naked."
Erin cocked her head to the side, "…yeah, except that," and the combination of the smile and the blush that graced her face, she didn't fight against it.
"Oh, you're blushing," Kim exclaimed, and for it to be so late, or I guess, really early, she had too much energy; that nap was definitely more of a power nap.
"Stop," and if it was possible for Erin's blushing cheeks to turn any darker then it happened.
Kim practically takes that as permission to continue, "ohhhh we have to talk about this! Maybe I can pop some popcorn and open up one of those bottles of wine?"
"No," Erin immediately interrupts and she finds herself jealous of Milo; he had disappeared at some point, probably in the guest room, fast asleep in his doggy bed, "this is what's going to happen. I'm going to go shower and then go to sleep while you head into your room and get some sleep too. We have work in the morning. I'm not staying up any longer to gossip with you about my one night stand. I don't know him. I don't know anything about him, including his name, job, residence, age and any detail that you want to know."
"…you know his residence though. I'm assuming that's where you…" she never finished her thought because she figured she gave Erin enough information to assume the rest of it.
"I've been to his place but I don't remember where it is or how to get there. I didn't drive and I didn't pay attention. I couldn't find him even if I wanted to find him."
"Damn that sucks."
"No," Erin retorts, "that's good." She pats Kim on the shoulder before leaving her side, heading towards the hall closet to grab a washcloth and a towel.
When she shut the hallway closet, she finds Burgess still standing there, mouth agape, eyes focused on her. She says nothing even as Erin walks towards her, "Earth to Kim," Erin waves her hand in front of her friend's face and snaps her fingers to encourage her to break out of whatever reverie or trance she found herself in.
"…yeah?" She blinks back into focus.
"Go to bed. You're losing it right now," Erin snickers. She throws the towel over her shoulder as she clenches the dry wash cloth in the opposite hand.
"I might go out tomorrow night. I might try my hand and see if I can get just as lucky."
"Good luck," Erin shouts over her shoulder as she walks away, in the direction of the bathroom, "because I'm not going. I've had enough excitement for one night." Not a long moment had passed between Erin walking away and entering the bathroom. She turned on the lights and then turned on the shower before sitting her towel down.
As she stared at herself in the mirror, pulling the tank top over her head and dropping it onto the floor, she sees the marks, the scratches and the hickeys forming on her body. There's one on her neck, one between her breasts and as she unzips her skirt and it drops to the ground, she sees another one on the inside of her thigh. He marked her, and there was no escape from the memories this night will always bring, even as she notices that she's not wearing any underwear.
She must have left them at his place in her rush to leave.
Shit. She liked those panties; they matched the bra she was wearing.
She was forced to count her losses because like she told Burgess, there was no way for her to find him again. And that was for the best. The two braids in her hair are undone. She wouldn't have minded leaving them in for another day but the combination of sweat, friction and his fingers had frizzled it up. It needed a wash. Badly.
Shower steam began to fill the bathroom, coating the mirror with enough fog to obscure her vision. She figured the water had gotten hot enough now. Cautiously, she sets one leg into the shower and after ensuring it wasn't too hot, she steps in completely before pulling the shower curtain to block all sight of her and make sure no water spilled out of the tub. The water washes over her completely, wetting her face, her hair and every bruise and scratch as her mind escapes her. It roams so fast that she can barely keep up. She's washing herself, but the events that had taken place moments ago swarm her mind.
As she washes her face, practically scrubbing it raw, she remembers the way his lips felt against hers, how his lips moved against hers, nipping at her bottom lip and then soothing it with the caress of his tongue. She can remember him kissing her like a man starved, a man hungry for a platter laid out in front of him. She can recall how close he would pull her naked body, how his light scruff would brush against her face or the inside of her thighs. She can remember the sound of his moans, the dirty words he'd whisper into her ear, the way he'd grab her neck, and bite her chin and the way his warm breath felt against her skin, felt against her parted lips.
Erin turns around and leans her head back to wash her hair, rubbing shampoo around and scrubbing it into her roots. She does this twice before applying conditioner and as she lets it set to detangle, she finds her thoughts still consumed by him. She wonders has he noticed that she left her panties behind. Is he as tired as she is? Is he as sore? Does he have marks and scratches to remind him of their wild night? She starts to scrub soap all along her body, remembering the way he felt pressed against her, the way he felt inside of her, how she felt in his arms, how warm and protected she was in his muscular embrace. She can remember being held in his arms, her heels still firmly strapped onto her feet with her legs wrapped around his waist. Her skirt was bunched up, he was settled against her, inside of her, a perfect fit and her underwear had been somewhere around his apartment, she couldn't remember if she lost them on the balcony, on the way to the bedroom or in his actual bedroom.
She needed to get out of the shower. She was getting hot and bothered and the heat of the stream of water wasn't helping. She washed her hair, ensuring that all soap was out of each strand and being washed down the drain. She washed the rest of the body wash off her body before shutting off the water. Her body doesn't move out of the shower right away, instead she's staring down at her feet, at her painted toes contrasting with the colors of the adhesive ducks Kim has against the floor of the tub to make sure no one slipped.
Erin blinks out of her reverie the second she feels her mind drifting off again. She gets ahead of it this time, "Not going down that route again," and she steps out of the bathtub and wraps the towel around her body before tucking the corner to ensure it didn't fall. She forgot to bring in a towel for her hair but it wasn't the end of the world. Kim won't know that water is dripping from her hair and landing into her brownish carpet as she rushes to her bedroom, clothes jumbled together in her arms. She kicks the door shut behind her and Milo immediately lifts his head, suddenly alert after the sound of the door slamming, "…sorry," she tosses over her shoulder and her dog quietly blinks before lowering his head back down to rest onto his paws.
Milo's doggy bed sits beneath the window. It's apparently his favorite spot because when he's not asleep, he typically sits in it and stares outside. When she initially put the bed down onto the floor, near the dresser, he took it upon himself to grab it by his mouth and drag it on over towards the window. If she's ever looking for him, she always knows she can find him here.
Erin hung her towel over the hook attached behind the closet door. It's empty inside. The dresser across from the bed remained empty too, despite Burgess constantly reminding her that the room is hers, she has permission to make it hers and that includes unpacking all of her bags. But, Erin knows this is only temporary. Hence, the reason why her clothes are still packed inside her suitcases. Erin goes braless for the night, like most nights, and grabs an over-sized shirt and a pair of underwear, "I'm so fucking tired," she whispered to herself. It was no one else in the room, besides Milo, and she'd be surprised if he responded, "the longer I'm awake, the more that bed starts to call to me. Is that normal, Milo?" And she knows asking her dog a question that he cannot answer probably wasn't normal, but it becomes a thing when your dog is your roommate.
The oversized shirt falls to her thighs, similar to a gown, and she doesn't know where she got it, but she's had it for a few years and it's served its purpose in keeping her comfortable and relaxed. Erin throws her clothes into the laundry basket in her closet, she plugs her phone into the charger near her bed and then she sets her alarm, "Okay," she put her hand on her hips as she stood in the center of the room, thinking aloud, "I've showered, put my clothes in the hamper, put my charger on the phone, now I can," she stops talking when she feels water droplets fall against her oversized shirt, and she was not about to comb and blow dry her hair tonight. That felt absolutely impossible with how much energy she has left remaining. Thinking quick on her feet, she decides to grab a smaller towel out of the hallway closet and wraps it around her head before turning off the lights and finally, finally, climbing into bed.
She knows that her hair is going to be a tangled mess in the morning but she doesn't fucking care right now, not when her eyes are heavy and drifting shut. She doesn't even try to fight it, not when the threat of sweet dreams overwhelms her and comforts her tonight. Everything is relaxed, body, mind, and soul and there has never been a one night stand that's left her feeling so full and fulfilled. Without him even knowing it, he's left her with a sense of peace, a lack of tension in her shoulders and despite the ache between her legs a direct result from the multiple rounds, he's left her body, her muscles and joints all relaxed.
Her head is buried into the pillow, the promise of a comfy comforter not forgotten as she falls asleep so naturally, so peacefully, with the light sounds of her dog's snores filling the room. One hand circles her flat stomach as her other hand is tucked beneath the pillow she has her head resting on. Her chest rises and falls with every soft breath she inhales and exhales and it feels like the night had passed by so fast because before she knows it, her alarm is going off, blaring into the room so loudly that her dog barks at it. Milo is a little alarm himself.
"I'm up," she sits up, "I'm up," she balls up her fists and rubs them against her eyes. It had felt like she had just fallen to sleep, she had just shut her eyes when her alarm started going off. She reaches over and presses her thumb down to stop the incessant noise.
Erin climbs out of bed and the second both feet are on the ground and she's standing, the ache and soreness she felt between her legs last night had tripled in force; she really took a pounding, a pleasurable one, but a pounding nonetheless. She takes a step, and she already knows without anyone telling her, that it's noticeable in her walk. Maybe she'll lie and say she pulled a muscle? She didn't need her colleagues in her business, she already had Burgess giving her the third degree every other day, and she didn't need the ones she barely knew to question her too.
"Kim," Erin calls out, walking into her friend's bedroom without knocking, "wake up sleeping beauty," and if it was hard for Erin to get up in the morning, it was even harder for Kim.
"Ughhh," her friend groaned but she made no move to get up. That is, until Erin grabs the blanket and yanks it off of her before throwing it onto the floor, "Erin stopppppp," she drawled.
"It's time to get up."
"…give me five more minutes."
"I did. It took me five minutes to get to your room." And it was all because of the soreness.
"Ugh, Erin, can we call in sick? Let's say we picked up a 24 hour bug or something."
"No, I'm still new there. I'm trying to prove myself. Faking sick is the complete opposite of what's going to help me do that."
Burgess pops open one eye, just the one, and it glared daggers at Erin. And if looks could kill then her death would definitely be the next case that crosses her father's desk.
"I hate you," she grumbles. And Kim pushes herself up, face creased with the imprint of her pillow, hair frizzled and scattered around her head and there was slob at the corners of her mouth. Gross. But, Erin has seen Kim with puke around her mouth so she's definitely witnessed worse and she'll take slob over that any day of the week.
"Are you always so pleasantly chipper in the morning?"
Kim grabs the pillow from behind her back and swung it in her direction. Erin blocked it with her hands before grabbing it off the floor and throwing it back.
"Uh, you're only in a good mood because you got laid last night."
Erin smirks at the reminder, "I got laid multiple times last night," she corrected, "now come on gorgeous, let's get presentable for the outside world and head into work."