Chapter 2

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It was three forty-five before Carlotta Castellano got out of bed. Her head was throbbing, her mouth was dry, and she wasn’t alone.

Carlotta loved her job. No, more than that - her job was her life. It was always on her mind, whether she was at the store, vegging out in front of the TV, even on a date: her job was always there, tucked away in the corner of her brain.

Except last night.

For some reason, last night she hadn’t thought about work at all. She’d done something that she couldn’t remember doing since she was a teenager - she’d followed a whim. She hadn’t thought about the fact that she had work in the morning, she hadn’t thought about the consequences of going out drinking, and she certainly hadn’t been thinking about work when she’d picked up a stranger and brought him back to her place.

Weirdest of all, she didn’t regret it. In fact, as she slipped out of bed and got dressed (no time for a shower) she peeked over at the man laying in her bed, and wished that she had time to go down on him again.

She didn’t even know his name. After her fifth shot, Carlotta had pulled him into the bathroom at the bar, unzipped his pants, and slowly, lovingly gone down on him until he’d cum in her mouth.

Then she’d invited him back to her place, and gone down on him twice more.

He’d been a bit disappointed when she hadn’t wanted to fuck him, but for whatever reason she wasn’t in the mood. Perhaps this was another callback to her teenage days - in her youth, Carlotta had been ... not exactly “scared” of sex, but unwilling to take that step into adulthood.

And so while she’d been far from a saint as a teenage girl, Carlotta hadn’t actually lost her virginity until she was twenty-one. She’d spent the first half-decade of her sexually active years giving head ... and as a result, she’d gotten spectacularly good at it.

As Carlotta road through the streets, her smile never disappeared. She’d left a note for the man in her house - she’d peeked in his wallet to learn his name, having not actually bothered learning it the previous night.

Along with the instructions on how to lock up behind himself, she’d included her number and an offer to call any time. She didn’t know if he would - Carlotta suspected that men weren’t particularly interested in turning random bar hookups into recurring encounters - but she could only hope.

Arriving at work, Carlotta dove straight into it. The morning passed in a blur - just as she’d not spent any time the previous night thinking about work, she spent the entire first half of her shift that day with her mind firmly on the job.

It wasn’t until her number two came in that her focus was suddenly lost. His name was Jason - they’d been working together for the past six months without issue, but the moment he entered the small kitchen, Carlotta was unable to concentrate.