Then I feel her move. A warmth draws close, close, closer, and then her lips touch mine.
I smile into those lips, returning the kiss, and then I open my eyes.
“Hey,” Nell murmurs croakily.
I bring my hands around her back, locking my fingers behind her. “Mornin’, babe.”
She sighs, smiling, and rolls her eyes.
“You really don’t like pet names?”
“Not particularly.”
“Why not?”
She offers me a tiny shrug, turning her head.
“You look so cute when you don’t want to tell me something.”
She glares at me through her sleepy morning eyes, which makes her look even cuter, but I refrain from pointing that out for fear of her smacking my face or giving me a titty twister. Or both.
On second thought, maybe I should point it out.
“I just prefer my name,” she says evasively.
“You had someone in the past call you cute names,” I predict, squinting in thought. “Someone called you Nelly-Poo and now you’ve sworn off pet names for all eternity.”
She shrugs. “I guess. Something like that.”
I smile, satisfied with the answer. “Want some breakfast?” I ask, giving her a few playful humps with my hips, which has the unintended effect of making her boobs bounce, bringing my full focus right to them. “Shit, I better do that again.”
She laughs, bringing an arm up to cover her breasts. Wow, really? She goes all shy on me now, after all we did last night?
Also, I’m pretty sure I’ve heard her laugh more in the past ten minutes than I have during my whole time knowing her.
“I’m seeing a whole different side of you this morning,” I remark.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yep. I think I know why, too.”
“Is that so?”
“It’s because of the mind-blowing sex we had last night.”
She snorts, swallowing another laugh that dared to escape her lips.
“We should definitely have sex more often,” I decide.
“Breakfast sounds good,” she says, smirking at me as she slips off my body and scavenges my floor for her clothes.
I turn onto my side, propping my head up. I watch her as she finds her panties and slides them up her sexy legs. Then she fishes her top out from under mine near the door, but can’t seem to find her bra. It’s right by the bed, so I snatch it off the floor and hide it behind my back just as she turns around. She’s onto me right away, crossing her arms and lifting a challenging eyebrow.
“Give it back.”
“What?” I blink innocently.
“My bra. Hand it over.”
“I prefer you with your clothes off.”
“I’m not walking out there half-naked with your roommates here.”
“They’re not home. Y’know, you didn’t give me a choice of clothing when you cuffed me and turned me into your showpiece.”
“Oh yeah? Is that what I am now? Your showpiece?”
I grin for an answer.
She plays along, sauntering slowly across the room, then bending over to line up her face with mine. I melt instantly, reaching for her lips, when in a flash of light she reaches around, grabs the bra from behind my back, and retreats from me to put it on, smirking victoriously at me from over her shoulder.
I sit up, shaking my head at her. “You think you got some tricks up your sleeve,” I mutter at her sexy backside, watching as she puts her bra back on. “But you haven’t seen my tricks. Hope you enjoy spending all that effort putting your clothes on when I’m gonna be taking you right back out of them.”
“I’m hungry,” she says briskly. “Show me what’s in your kitchen and I’ll see what I can do.” Then, in just her panties and that sexy top, she strolls out of my room like she owns the place.
Not gonna lie. I’m hard as fuck right now.
I step into my closet and grab a prop I took from a show Dessie and Clayton did back in the spring. Tying it to me, I swing out of my room, chasing Nell into my kitchen where she rummages through my fridge.
“Sit back, sweet cheeks,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her onto a barstool, inspiring a hoot of protest and a laugh, “and let me make you my infamous spicy egg scramble.”
“Spicy egg—? Brant.” She laughs when she sees what I’m wearing. “Is that an eggplant?”
“You don’t like my eggplant?” I face her proudly wearing only the purple apron I’ve donned with an assortment of vegetables decorating the front—namely, a big ol’ swollen eggplant with two tomatoes suggestively placed. “It certainly likes you. You allergic to cayenne or garlic?”
“Nope.”