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“Hey!”
Vanessa looked up and saw Megan sitting on a loveseat in a room two doors down from her bedroom, a steaming mug of coffee on a small table in front of her. She was dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top. Vanessa went to join her.
“You’re an early riser,” she said, leaning over to give Megan a kiss before dropping down on the seat next to her. Megan put down her Kindle and scooched closer to Vanessa.
“Oh my God, I know, right? I can’t help it! Even on the weekends I still get up at the ass-crack.” She snuggled Vanessa’s neck, and it felt so good Vanessa could already tell she was going to need every iota of willpower during the next twenty minutes or so.
When Megan’s hand slid up from Vanessa’s waist and encountered Vanessa’s bra under the fabric of her shirt, she pulled away, a confused look on her face.
“Wow, you’re dressed dressed,” Megan said. “What time do you need to be there?”
“No later than quarter to seven.”
Megan pouted. Vanessa had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing, it was so adorable.
“Sweetie, I have to take advantage of this weekend trade while I can during this reopening. Before the pandemic, La Vida Mocha was open on Sundays, but back then I had two other girls working for me and I could take a Saturday or Sunday off. Now, it’s just Chloë and me.”
“Can’t you hire more people?” Megan asked, resuming her snuggling, her breath finding its way down Vanessa’s shirt to caress her cleavage.
Yep, willpower will definitely be tested.
“Hopefully,” she said, stroking the back of Megan’s head. “I need to see first if this reopening lasts. Right now, it’s just me and Chloë, but that can’t go on long because we’ll drop dead from exhaustion. But, if business picks up again during this next week, I’ll see about bringing someone else on.”
Even—heaven help me—Mom.
She pulled away because somehow—Vanessa hadn’t even been aware of it—Megan’s hand had found its way under Vanessa shirt…
How the hell did she do that?!
…and Megan had started running her thumb over Vanessa’s nipple through her bra. Vanessa couldn’t stop the groan which escaped her lips as her nipple hardened.
“It’s a ten-minute drive and it’s not even six-twenty,” Megan pleaded.
Vanessa summoned reserves of self-control she wasn’t aware she had and gently grasped Megan’s wrist, pulling the younger woman’s hand from her breast. This time, Megan groaned.
“I know it’s only six-twenty but I still have to stop somewhere and pick up breakfast.”
But Megan pounced. Suddenly, Vanessa was pinned against the arm of her loveseat, just as Megan had pinned her downstairs on the couch the first night they’d had sex. It was déjà vu. Vanessa’s heartrate picked up.
“Quick, what do you eat for breakfast?” Megan demanded.
“Yogurt and some fruit, usually,” Vanessa whispered, unable to tear her gaze from Megan’s lips.
Megan rolled her eyes.
“Oh, my God! And you call yourself Californian? Don’t you realize by now that every woman in this state has those two things in their fridge?”
Megan got up off Vanessa and the loveseat.
“Come on,” Megan said, holding out her hand, evidently meaning Vanessa to take it to help herself up.
Vanessa took Megan’s hand and the two of them left the room and headed towards the stairs. As she walked, Vanessa was surprised at how damp her panties were. And her and Megan hadn’t even really done anything just now! But that brief fondle of her breast which Megan had done combined with Megan topping her on the loveseat had been enough. She sighed. Apparently, she was going to have to resign herself to being wet all the time whenever Megan was around. And if Megan kept showing up at the shop for brief make out sessions, Vanessa knew she was going to also have to start keeping spare—meaning dry—underwear available in La Vida Mocha to change into.
The aroma of coffee was strongest in the kitchen.
“Fuck, I need some of that,” Van
essa said.
