AllFreeNovel
Share Us
* * *
I open my eyes the next morning and squint into the harsh sunlight streaming through his still open curtains. Moving my eyes only, I search for a clock or my phone, something to help me find my bearings. I know I’m not at home in my own bed, that’s easily obvious, since I can still smell him. His bed linens smell deliciously of him, and my back’s still warm from him being my big spoon. I know he’s awake too, because I can feel him running his finger softly along my rib cage as he traces my bird’s wings.
It feels so nice.
He places soft kisses on the back of my neck as I come to. “Morning.”
I shiver at the deep timbre of his‘I just woke up after a long night of good sex’voice. “Mmm, good morning.” I stretch and pop joints, groaning at the delicious soreness radiating through my limbs.
Unable to resist any longer, I turn over to face him. I want to see him in the daylight; I want to confirm that last night really happened, and most importantly, I want to confirm that he loves me, too.
He doesn’t disappoint. My first sight, after I settle comfortably on my other side, is his sexy grin, his beautiful, straight pearly white teeth, his melted chocolate eyes dancing with glee. “Hmm, you’re prettier than I remember.” He drops a soft kiss on my lips. “Or maybe it’s just different now, since I’ve seen you naked.” He smirks. “Since I’ve made love to you. Since I love you.” My heart trips in my chest as he leans down and kisses me.
How could he know that I need reassurance this morning? How is it he knows exactly what I need?
I sigh and let myself fall deeper into his kiss.
He pulls back and smiles. “Do you want some breakfast? I’m making pancakes.” He wiggles his brows with excitement.
My stomach rumbles noisily right on cue. “What time is it?” I need to get home soon.
“It’s early. Almost seven.” He turns and climbs out of bed. Pulling on shorts to cover is muscular ass, he turns back and slaps mine with a loud crack. “It’s breakfast time. Get up, baby.”
He bolts into the hall before I can hit him back, and sitting up in his bed, I look around the room. This is the first chance I’ve had to look around, and I can’t resist peeking into his life.
Picture windows take up most of the wall straight across from the bed, and dark curtains hang open and useless as the morning sun streams in to blind me. Built in closets take up the entire wall to my left, leaving only space for the door that Bobby ran through in his escape. A flat screen TV is mounted on the wall to my right and surrounded by framed pictures – just like his office.
Dozens of pictures spread out in a kaleidoscope of history and memories; Bobby and his brothers, Bobby and Jon, the guys as young teens and a middle-aged woman I assume is Nelly. A younger man who looks so handsome and familiar, he could only be the Kincaids’ dad.
There are also random posters of Bruce Lee, Georges St-Pierre, Muhammad Ali, and some other fighters I don’t recognize. Scattered between those are pictures of comic book characters – Hawkeye, Iron Man, Thor, The Hulk, Black Widow.
Yep, the man I love has comic book characters on his bedroom wall. I laugh to myself. This collage of people, fictional and real, are who inspire him. They make him happy, and so, they make me happy, too.
I get out of bed and walk toward his bathroom. I need to pee and clean up. I approach the sink and stare at myself in the mirror. I look like me, but I look like a stranger, too.
My hair is a mess, but it’s a sexy mess. The curls are soft and smooth, not the rat’s nest I expected. My cheeks are flushed, but not in an embarrassing way, just the perfect way to add color to my face. My eyes seem happier, the blue-green I got from my dad twinkles. I enjoy the new leaner shape my face and body are taking, and due to working out at the gym, I’ve lost about ten pounds so far.
When I walked in here, I expected to look like a mess, but I just look… happy. I feel happy, and I feel sexy.
I take care of business and wash my hands, then head back to his room to search for my underwear and a shirt to wear. I find the black tee he was wearing last night and put it on, then find my panties under his bed and remember he tore them off me last night.
Heat pools in my belly at the memory, and I reconsider my breakfast choice.
I grab a pair of his boxers instead, and slide the silk up my legs, then rummage in his drawers looking for socks to wear. It’s my thing; I can’t not wear socks first thing in the morning, even in the summer. I feel like my freshly woken feet just aren’t tough enough to go barefoot. Not until I’ve at least had my first cup of coffee.
As dressed and presentable as I can possibly be, I wander out to the hall in search of the kitchen. We didn’t take time for formal tours last night, but I can smell coffee and pancakes, so I just follow my nose.
I enter the kitchen to find Bobby’s shirtless back to me while he expertly flips pancakes at the stove. I just stop to watch for a minute. The flex and movement of his broad back hypnotizes me, the warrior princess on his shoulder blade ripples when he moves.
With zero hesitation, as though he sensed me here, he turns and strides toward me with a big smile. Without stopping, he picks me up easily, wrapping my legs around his hips as he walks back toward the counter, and kisses me until my toes start curling. He sits me down and stands between my legs, nuzzling my hair, kissing my neck, running his hands along my thighs.
“Mmm.” The taste of maple syrup transfers from his tongue to mine. “You taste good.”
He gently bites my lip. “I could say the same about you… Coffee?”
“Yes please. Cream and one sweetener.”
He pecks me on the lips then moves away to the coffee pot. “I gotta say, there’s something about seeing you wearing my underwear first thing in the morning.”
