Pierced(42)
I’m abruptly pulled from my thoughts by Lia’s small hand pulling on my toe. “Hello? Are you sleeping with your eyes open or just trying to ignore me?”
Giving her a lazy grin, I let my eyes slide leisurely up and down her body, pausing to admire the way my t-shirt outlines her tits. What man isn’t turned on by a woman wearing his clothes? “I could never ignore you, sweet Lia. I was just working out the details of you sitting on my…”
She sticks her hand up, yelling, “Stop! Don’t finish that sentence. That is not on the menu for you this morning. The only thing I need to know from you is whether you would like scrambled eggs with your toast.”
We both know what I want to say, but I decide to take mercy on her and myself, as well. Unless she is willing to do most of the work, I don’t have it in me yet to fuck her, no matter how much I want to. “Yeah, baby, I’d like some eggs.”
“Coming up. Just stay here, and I’ll bring a tray when everything is ready.” She jumps from the bed, and I bite my lip as the luscious curve of her ass peeks out from under my shirt when she bends to slip what appears to be a pair of my socks on her feet. If she doesn’t leave the room soon, I will be begging her to ride my exhausted body.
Easing to the edge of the bed, I put my feet on the floor and stand on shaky legs. The room spins for a moment before righting itself. It takes much longer than usual, but I use the toilet, brush my teeth, and cringe at my reflection in the mirror. Even if I have to crawl, I am taking a shower after breakfast. Maybe I can play on Lia’s sympathy and talk her into taking one with me. There are worse things in the world than having a beautiful woman wash your cock. If the twitching in that region is anything to go by, my cock completely agrees.
The kitchen seems miles away as I make my way slowly there. Lia is humming while scrambling enough eggs to feed an army. My stomach growls in response to the smell of food after days without it. I pull a stool out and slump in it. Damn, am I actually sweating just from that small amount of activity? I must look as washed out as I feel, because Lia turns, giving me a look filled with sympathy. “It’s almost ready. Do you want butter on your toast?” When I nod, she slathers it on several pieces before reaching up to get glasses out of the cabinet. Her shirt once again rides up, and I grit my teeth. It’s no myth; men are horny in the morning, and even sick, the urge to spread her out over this very counter I’m sitting at is strong. Instead, I push my throbbing cock down from where it seems to be trying to break out of the top of my lounge pants.
Lia puts a plate of perfectly-cooked eggs, toast, and bacon before me. She adds a tall glass of orange juice and a jar of strawberry jelly. In what is probably an embarrassing display of table manners, I attack the plate like a starving animal. When I’ve devoured everything in record time, she silently refills it. I grimace as I note her full plate. “Sorry about that; I guess I was hungrier than I thought.” Now that the empty feeling has been sated, I resume my breakfast at a more-leisurely pace. “What day is it?” Man, when was the last time I had to ask that? I wonder if she should be in class this morning instead of cooking for me.
“It’s Sunday. Sam brought you home on Friday evening while I was here cleaning up. Other than me waking you for medicine, fluids, and um…the bathroom, you slept right through until this morning.”
It’s unsettling to think of losing so much time. My last solid memories are of meetings with some of my development team in our New York office. I haven’t had the flu in years, and it completely kicked my ass. Sam had it last year and, truthfully, I’d wondered why it had taken him an entire week to recover. Hell, I understood now.
I look across the counter at Lia, taking in her beautifully mussed appearance. Her long blonde hair is in a lopsided ponytail on the top of her head…in a bread tie? Her face, devoid of makeup, is flawless. Her blue eyes sparkle, framed by thick lashes, and my shirt collar hangs off one side, exposing the creamy flesh of her shoulder. Most women I know would never be seen in front of a man in less-than-perfect condition, but Lia doesn’t act self-conscious at all; actually, she looks completely comfortable. After seeing me at my worst for the last few days, she probably figures it doesn’t really fucking matter anymore, and I like that. Clearing my throat, I say, “Thank you for taking care of me. I…hope I didn’t ruin any plans you might have had.”
She takes a sip of her orange juice, seeming pleased by my words. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help, and no, I didn’t have any plans. I usually spend the weekend studying, doing laundry, and visiting Debra if I have time.”