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My heart soared, and I knew it wasn’t from too much instant coffee.
“Anything for you, Stacey. Now, let’s get you inside so I can take care of you.”
20
HARRY
Ballydoon Community Group:
Ash posted 8.20 a.m.:
This Friday at the pub: meat tray raffle donated by the butcher. $2 a ticket, $5 for 3, sheet of 15 for $20. Proceeds donated to the fireys. Live band 8 p.m. in the beer garden.
I woke to discover I was the little spoon.
My mobile vibrated against something hard and loud.My alarm.With eyes half closed, I blindly searched for my mobile, smacking it hard enough to stop that god-awful noise.
I settled back under the duvet, my back against the unmistaken softness of breasts. A leg had nudged mine apart and an arm was draped over my stomach. Fingers played with the fine hairs just above my bellybutton and then slid lower, squeezing my very alert dick.
I groaned, enclosing the hand with mine, reluctantly placed our hands above my bellybutton again.
Stacey.Anastasia.
She stirred. I groaned again. With Stacey pressed up against me, I was harder than steel.
My eyes cracked open with a jolt.
Why was Stacey in my bed? There’d been a fire and then I was going to take her home …
My mobile rang. I swore softly, flailing again to find my phone and silence the shrill ring tone.
I scowled at the screen. No caller ID. I rejected the call, threw my phone onto a pile of dirty clothes on the floor and rolled over, flipping Stacey to take my rightful place as big spoon, of course.
Her hair was wild on the pillow, and she’d worn my old uni rugby team tee shirt and sweatpants to bed. What was it about seeing a woman in your clothes that was so attractive?
She looks like she’s yours.
Mine. Hers.
My breath caught as she sighed in her sleep, arching her back, her butt rubbing against my dick. I hardened even more.
I could get used to waking up beside her, seeing her in my bed and in my clothes.
Also naked, under me, on me.
Damned clothes. I ran my finger slowly down her arm. Stacey sighed again and opened her eyes.
“Hey,” she mumbled over her shoulder.
“Good mornin’,” I said into her hair.
“Where are we?” Stacey asked, sitting up quickly. “What time is it?”
Oh yeah, that.“My room. We must have fallen asleep.”
“Well, duh,” Stacey grumbled, running a hand through her bed hair. I sat up beside her, letting the duvet fall to my waist, leaving my chest bare.
Stacey eyeballed my lack of clothes as I thought out loud.
