“Hey,” I protest, smiling up at Kent as he brushes a thumb against the underside of my breast. “I thought you wanted me to get up?”
“I wanted you to wake up,” he replies, sighing a little contented breath through his nose. “Out of bed is…harder.”
“Fine by me,” I murmur, turning my face up towards his, but Kent sighs and loosens his grip around me.
“No,” he says, shaking his head and groaning as he moves away from me. “I’m already two hours late. If I get started doing what I actually want to do this morning, we won’t make it to breakfast until eight.”
“Fine,” I sigh, watching him get up with a little pout. “But then I demand coffee,” I quip, looking around again for this miraculous coffee machine while I wrap the sheets around my chest, a little cold and not wanting to be quite as
