“Yes.” She pants.

Kissing her ear, I move and kiss her neck, collarbone, and then shift and pull down the lace edge of her nightie, exposing her breast and peach-colored nipple. Palming her breast, I lick over her nipple then blow against it, watching it tighten, and then do the same with the other one. I feel her core grip and pulse around my fingers, cluing me in to the fact she’s close, which is good, ‘cause so am I. Pulling myself from her hand so I don’t come before my mouth is on her, I shift down the bed. Ignoring her alarm when it starts blaring, I toss her leg over my shoulder and place my mouth on her, over the lace covering her. Pressing my tongue in, I pull back and suck hard.

“Oh God!” she cries, and I groan. Sliding the lace to the side, exposing her to me, I put my mouth back. The second my tongue slides through her folds, her thighs tighten and her pussy pulses around my fingers. Lifting my head, I watch her come then slow my strokes. I get up on my knees and wrap my hand around my cock, jacking it off. Looking at her mass of hair spread out on the pillow, her eyes dark with greed, her perfect tits out, and feeling her pussy pulsing around my still thrusting fingers, I get close then lose it completely when her hand wraps around mine and she takes me there, watching in wonder as I come all over her exposed belly.

Dropping my head back to my shoulders my hips jerk as she keeps stroking. “Christ,” I groan, righting my head. I slide my fingers slowly out of her pussy and bring them to my mouth, sucking them clean.

“Oh my God,” she whispers, holding my gaze, and I grin around my fingers.

“Don’t move,” I order, getting off the bed and going to the bathroom for a washcloth. Turning the water to hot, I warm up the cloth then take it back to the bed to clean her up. Once I’m done, I smile. “You wanna shut the alarm off?” I ask, and she blinks like she hasn’t been listening to it beep for the last ten minutes. She sits up, reaching over and turning it off. Taking advantage of her being propped up, I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and drop my mouth down to hers for a hot, deep, very wet kiss. “Morning,” I rumble when I pull back, and she laughs, sliding her hands around my waist.

“Morning.” She rests the side of her head against my abs, and I run my fingers through her thick, soft hair. I hate that she cut all her hair off, but I have to admit I love the way it looks now. Wild, just like I know she is when she lets her guard down.

“Do you wake up like that often?” I ask, and her body stiffens.

“Maybe.”

“Not complaining, just wondering what you do with yourself when it happens?”

“Vibrator,” she answers, shocking the shit out of me with her honesty, and I feel myself tense as visions of her masturbating fill my mind.

“Gonna have to see you take yourself there sometime,” I warn softly, and she shivers. Tipping her head back toward me, I cup the back of her head and study her face, thinking I was wrong last night. Seeing the soft, sated look in her eyes right now makes her look even more magnificent than I have ever seen her before. “You gonna shower?” I ask, and she nods. “All right, I’ll make coffee.”

“You coul—”

“I could baby, but you’d be late for work if I did,” I say, cutting her off before she can even finish her suggestion, and her eyes go half-mast. Dipping my head, I touch my mouth to hers, give her neck a squeeze, and then let her go. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

“‘Kay,” she agrees.

I grab my jeans from the floor, pull them on, and then leave the room, not looking back at her, ‘cause I know I won’t be able to stop myself from following her into the bathroom if I do. I go down the hall and use the restroom there. Once I’m out, I head for the living room, with Dizzy dancing at my feet, spinning in circles and hopping. Stooping, I rub his head then open the back door to let him out, watching as he takes off down the steps, chasing a bird out of the yard. I leave the door open and move to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and find something for breakfast. Not surprising, there’s coffee but no food in the fridge other than one egg, a few slices of cheese, half-and-half, butter, and nothing much else. Resting my hand on my hip, I study the empty fridge, wondering when the last time she went shopping was.

“I haven’t had time to go to the store.” Turning my head, I see her on the other side of the island, her wet hair up in a ponytail and her body encased in a thin black robe. “I’ll go tonight when I get off work. I think I have a couple bagels that we can eat though.”

“You don’t have any cream cheese.”

“I have butter.” She shrugs, coming around the island, opening up one of the cupboards, and lifting up on her bare feet to reach the coffee cups on the second shelf.

“What time do you get off work tonight?” I ask, and she looks at me over her shoulder.

“Eleven.”

“I’ll go to the store,” I say, and she sets two cups on the counter then looks at me again.

“I can go when I get off. I’ve done it before. It’s not a big deal.”

“You can, but that’d mean you’d have to make a stop late at night instead of heading straight home after work,” I tell her, leaving out the fact she’s a Mayson and that last name seems to be a magnet for trouble.

She studies me with a look I can’t read flashing in her eyes then turns to the coffee pot. “If you don’t mind. I’ll give you a key.” I grab the carton of half-and-half before shutting the fridge, then go to her and fit myself against her back. Dropping the carton on the counter, I slide one hand around her waist to rest against her stomach, the other on the counter near her hip. Touching my mouth to her neck, I watch her pour coffee into both cups.

“When’s your next day off?” I ask, breathing in the scent of her clean skin.

“In three days,” she answers, and I nod. “You could…” She pulls in a breath and lets it out. “If you want… I mean, if you want you can hang around here until I get off,” she offers, and I know by her tone she wants that, and fuck if I don’t want the same thing.

“Sounds good.” I kiss her neck then let her go to grab the sugar that’s across the kitchen.

“I’m going to tell my parents,” she warns, and I stop halfway to her and her eyes come to me. “They’ve been asking about us and, well, if this is happening, I don’t want to keep it from them. That didn’t go over too well when my cousins kept their relationships from their parents.” She bites her lip then mutters, “Unless you don’t want me to tell them.”

“Not hiding us, Angel, but heads up. I’m not going to let your dad intimidate me. He’s tried that before, and as much as I respect him, I won’t like it if he tries that shit again.”

“He tried to intimidate you?” she asks, and I study her, wondering how she missed it when he made it obvious he wasn’t happy she was spending time with me, even if there was nothing happening between us at that time.

“Yeah, keyword: tried. I’m not easily intimidated, especially when I want something. And now, after we shared what we shared last night and this morning, I know I want more of that. And your dad isn’t going to get in the way of me having it,” I tell her, watching the look from earlier come back, this time stronger than before.

“Okay,” she agrees quietly, opening the creamer and dumping some in her cup, leaving mine black but adding sugar. Handing me a cup, she leans back against the counter with hers. “Is this weird?” she questions, and I rest my hip against the counter opposite her.

“Weird how?”

“I don’t know. This just feels normal. Even when I’ve been with a guy for a while, I feel anxious. With you...” She shakes her head. “I don’t feel that. It’s weird.”

“We’ve spent a lot of time together,” I point out, and she nods, taking a sip of her coffee. “You know how I like my coffee without me having to tell you, know what kinda shows I watch, what I do with my free time. And I know the same things about you.”

“I guess you’re right,” she replies.