For a while, I lay there, enjoying the comfort and trying to will myself into dozing off again.
Finally, I decided I needed to get up, if for nothing else other than nature’s call was loud and insistent. I slipped out from under her arm to the sound of her whimper, and she stirred lightly. I froze on the edge of the bed and waited, but she fell back to sleep, a smile curling up the corners of her mouth as she settled into the warm space where I had been lying.
I made my way as lightly as I could to the hallway, grabbing my boxers and socks as I walked. I slipped the socks on as I walked into the bathroom. When I came out, I glanced back in the bedroom and saw she was still asleep.
Not wanting to wake her, I headed into the kitchen and looked around. There had to be a coffee maker around there somewhere. There were a couple of choices for breakfast, but I had better ideas. Before I could get to that, I wanted to have a cup of coffee and see if she was going to wake up regretting last night. I didn’t think she would, but it was a possibility.
Just as the coffee finished brewing, I heard a shuffling sound and looked up to the entrance of the kitchen from the hallway. Rebecca was walking in, her hair pulled back into a ponytail and a smile on her face. She was wearing my T-shirt, which dwarfed her and hung just above her knees. Her perky breasts poked out of the front, and I could just barely see the pink of her nipples through the material. My cock twitched, and I became extremely aware that I was only wearing boxers and socks.
“Morning,” I said. “I started some coffee. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” She pushed an errant strand of hair that escaped the ponytail back behind her ear. “The smell woke me up. Always does.”
“Always does?” I asked. For a split second, I thought she was telling me she was used to having people over in the morning to make her coffee. A gentle way of telling me that I wasn’t special and not to get too many ideas.
“It has a timer,” she said. “I can ignore an alarm clock, but I can’t ignore fresh brewed coffee.”
I laughed, my mind relaxing a little. It was silly of me to get so upset so fast. I couldn’t deny that there was another feeling behind the one about me not being special. Jealousy. A streak of jealousy had cropped up, and I had no right for that. It concerned me.
“What time did you set it for today?” I asked, pulling the carafe out and grabbing two mugs from the hooks above the coffee maker.
“She walked close enough to me that her breasts brushed against my arm while she took one of the mugs. “I didn’t. I was preoccupied last night.”
“Oh really?” I said as she stepped up on her toes to press a kiss to my cheek.
“Yup. This will do just fine, though.”
She poured a bit of the coffee into her mug and took a deep sip. My eyebrow curled up as I watched her close her eyes and hold the mug tightly between both hands.
“You drink it black?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, hissing the last letter for a little while.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a black coffee drinker, but alright.” I moved over to the refrigerator. “I like a little creamer in mine. Not much, but a little.”
“Oh, no, I like my coffee black like my soul,” she said and laughed. I shook my head.
“Somehow I don’t believe that assessment.” I poured the creamer into the mug and took a tester sip. It was delicious. I looked at the label on the creamer, committing it to memory. It was a brand I had never tried before but would have to give a shot. “So, what time do you have to be at work?”
“One. Tattoo parlors don’t usually get a big rush of business on Sunday mornings.”
“Good,” I said. “I had an idea.”
“Oh?” she said, her turn to cock an eyebrow up at me. How I wanted to just pick her up, bring her back to bed, and spend the morning naked, eating frozen waffles and licking syrup off each other.
“I was thinking, if you wanted, we could go out for breakfast.”
“That would be really nice, actually. Where? Please don’t say the diner.”
“No,” I laughed.
“So?” she asked. “Where to?”
“Well, there’s a place just down the road that only serves breakfast on Sundays,” I said.
“Zanzibar? That’s the only place close I can think of.”
“That’s the one. Have you ever been there?”
“I applied there, actually,” she laughed. “I didn’t know they did breakfast, and when they didn’t call me back, I refused to go there on principle.”