And the third would be the hard length currently pressed up against my backside.
My body immediately stiffens in that split second before the rest of my brain catches up with last night. Dry humping Ryan in the stadium hallway, doingmuch morethan that up against his apartment door, the ice cream, movie… and that’s where the memory of the evening turns a bit foggy. I must have fallen asleep on the couch, and he carried me into bed.
That thought has my limbs loosening as I relax back into him, but my movements seem to rouse him from sleep. He drags me even closer to his body, burying his nose into the back of my neck and inhaling deeply.
“Good morning.” His voice rumbles, rough from sleep. The tickle of his breath on my neck sends a shiver down my spine.
“Mmm,” I hum in response. I feel weightless this morning. “Good morning.” My voice comes out like a whisper, scared to disturb this peace we’ve found ourselves in.
His fingers draw circles over the exposed skin of my thigh where the shirt I’m wearing has risen. The action simultaneously heats my skin and causes me to break out into goosebumps.
“You hungry?” he asks as he drops his lips to press a gentle kiss into my neck.
I roll so I can lie flat on my back and turn my head to face him with a sly smile. “Is that supposed to be some sort of innuendo?”
He rolls his eyes but smiles as he leans in to press a kiss to my temple and lets his mouth linger by my ear. “No, you fucking pervert. I want to make you breakfast.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Do you even have things to make breakfast?”
“I’m sure I’ve got something,” he says with a shrug. “If not, I’ll run out to grab something quick.”
I take a second to watch him. He looks so relaxed, at ease. We broke so many rules last night—or, well, I guess I did—and he’s just lying here next to me like this is something we do every morning, and asking if I want breakfast.
I’m not freaking out. I swear, I’m not. There’s no panic about what could go wrong.Howthings could go wrong. Okay, maybe I’m thinking about thata little. But that’s normal, right? To think of all the outcomes of things and how to plan for those situations? My job doesn’t allow for us to be romantically involved, and yet last night I threw my whole work contract out the window. If we get caught, I’ll lose my job. My shot at the promised promotion flushed down the toilet. It’s a worry that still niggles in the back of my mind. Or what if we fizzle out? What if he realizes I’m not as perfect as the pedestal he’s put me on? What then? I would probably crumble if I have to see him every time there’s a game after knowing what he tastes like, what he looks like almost entirely naked. And if I lost my job? Then what? I’ll have to move in with my parents. I’ll be a laughingstock in the industry. A failure.
But the longer I stare at him gazing back at me with something deeply intense, I can’t find it in myself to be concerned about what will happen once we leave the bubble that is his apartment. Wishing we could stay like this forever.
“Breakfast sounds great,” I finally say, shoving all my worries to the little box I created for it in the back of my mind.
“Excellent,” he says with a wide grin before leaning over enough to drop his lips to mine in the briefest of kisses. As he pulls away, my upper body follows, intending to keep my lips firmly planted.
A fact that of course he notices, letting out a soft chuckle. “Insatiable now are you, baby?”
I roll my eyes and scrunch my nose. “Don’t call me baby.”
“You didn’t seem to mind it last night,” he retorts with a smirk as he waltzes to his dresser, still only clothed in his briefs as he had been last night.
“Yeah, well my brain was a bit frazzled by lust.” I huff as I pull myself into sitting up, leaning back against the headboard. “Maybe let’s stick with firecracker, yeah?”
If it’s possible, his smile beams even brighter. “Iknewyou liked it!” He rounds the bed to drop a kiss to the crown of my head.
“Ew, as if.” I shove at him playfully. “But I definitely prefer it over baby.”
“Whatever you say, firecracker,” he whispers before he heads out toward the kitchen, pulling a T-shirt down over his exposed upper body, taking his time so I get to enjoy every second of his flexing muscles. “When you’re finished with your eye fucking, come join me in the kitchen,” he calls without even looking over his shoulder.
“Minchia,” I mutter as I sink further into the bed, a warm fluttery feeling blooming in my chest.
Once I’ve finally peeled myself from bed, I fold myself into one of the barstools at the island where I can observe him moving around the spacious kitchen. Watching him dig around in the fridge and bouncing between cabinets and the stove feels so domestic and I’m kind of loving it.
He slides a mug my way on his next pass by and my attention drops to it. My mouth starts to water at the delicious aroma of coffee wafting to me on the steam. I lift it quickly to my lips, taking a small sip of the scorching beverage.
“It’s not as good as if we’d gone out to grab one,” he says from where he’s leaning his hip against the counter watching me. “I did think about venturing around the corner, but I was feeling a bit selfish and wanted to keep you looking like this for as long as possible.” His eyes fill with a heat that has me wanting to drag him back to bed.
Warmth crawls up my cheeks and my eyes drop back down to the drink. “It’s good,” I lie. It’s very much not good. I mean, it’s definitely not the worst coffee I’ve ever had in my life, but it’s probably safe to say a barista is not his calling in life.
He lifts a skeptic eyebrow. “I guarantee it’s not, but I appreciate your attempt at not bruising my fragile ego.”
“Fragile, my ass.” I scoff with an eye roll.
