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We had rocked each other’s worlds in more ways than one.
“Can’t go again,” she mumbled into my shoulder. “Unless you do all the work this time. You get on top.”
I grinned and separated the tangle of dense dark hair over her face. A sleepy blue eye peered out at me as I kissed her nose. “Can I now? How about doggy style and every other possible position I can come up with?”
“I’m game.” She shook back her hair and rolled over, sending the unsuspecting cat flying with a thud. “Whoops! Oh, no. Baby, are you okay? Do you need help?”
I grabbed her hand and dragged it to my cock. “This baby of yours does.”
She made a noise as she yanked her hand free. “Come here, Smoky. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” She flashed her stupendous ass as she crawled off the bed and onto the floor.
A moment later, she emerged victorious with the cat cradled in her arms. He was nestled against her chest where I had been just a short time ago.
I wasn’t terribly bitter.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Daddy didn’t tell me you were on top of me.”
“Daddy was too consumed with getting on top of you himself.”
“Daddy is a pervert,” she told Smoky, who head bumped her in agreement. “And we don’t have time to—oh my God, it’s noon.”
I propped my head on my hand and grinned. “Yeah. I’ve never played hooky from work before. It feels bad.”
“Bad unpleasant?”
“No, like I’m being bad. It feels good.”
She shook her head and set the cat on the bed, giving his rump a little push. “Head bonk some sense into him, Smoky.”
The cat promptly rerouted to lean adoringly against her thigh as she climbed back on the bed. I couldn’t fault his logic.
I also couldn’t just not tell Ryan forever that I’d quit. But if she thought I was crazy for willingly being late, telling her I’d given my notice would be akin to shaving my head and joining her coven.
“Do you have a coven?”
“Solitary witch, remember? And where are you getting your terms? Some witch show on TV?”
“No.” I tried manfully not to flush. “A supernatural glossary site. I ordered the paperback. It will be here in two weeks.”
She rolled her eyes skyward. “You’re a nerd.”
“It’s not my fault you haven’t allowed me any hands-on research yet. I have so many questions I could ask Miss Cleo.”
“Who?”
“That TV psychic from a million years ago.”
“I’m not psychic and reading tarot cards isn’t a game. It doesn’t have to be deadly serious either, but a tool for harnessing your intuition should never be treated dismissively.”
Great. Now I’d insulted her. The last thing I wanted to do.
“I didn’t mean to do that. I promise. I just made a stupid joke pre-coffee.”
“Would you use lack of coffee as an excuse for justifiable homicide?”
“Obviously not, as I didn’t attack you when you hid mine.” I gave her a quick, hard kiss, and she grimaced before she could school her features.
“Either my morning breath is exceptional today or you’re hurting.”
