I wake up with a huge grin on my face. Why am I so happy? Not that I’m complaining, but...
I feel something move next to me, and I look over to see Brittney sleeping peacefully, her long dark brown hair spread out over the pillow. It all comes flooding back to me – the make-out scene on the street, the ride back to my apartment, the amazing fucking...
I grin at her, her light breathing telling me that she’s still happily and deeply asleep. I have never enjoyed waking up next to the woman I’ve spent the night with. It’s always so damn awkward. “Hi, lady that I barely know. It was fun to fuck you last night. Now go away.”
But staring at Brittney’s sleeping face, her breathing getting a little louder, verging on snoring, I can’t stop smiling. I wouldn’t want to wake up next to anyone else. She makes me happy.
She makes me question my choices and how I look at the world and what I want to do and who I want to be. I think about doubling my donation to the New York Library system each month. Or maybe I should go down there and donate some time. It can’t be that hard to put books away on a shelf, right? I used to help my mom with it all the time.
But I’ve never felt this way about a woman before, and I’m not sure if I’m delighted, or if it’s scaring the hell out of me.
Brittney lets out a full-blown snore, startling herself awake, and she jerks into a sitting position. I grin. I’ve never seen someone look so fuckably beautiful this early in the morning.
“Good morning,” I say, brushing her hair out of her face.
“Hey!” she says around a huge yawn, and then falls back on the bed, grinning up at me. “How’d you sleep?”
“Pretty damn well, actually. I had this gorgeous woman who was snoring next to me, all night long, and after I put cotton balls in my ears to drown out the sound, I could sleep pret—”
“I do not snore!” she protests, laughing up at me. “I have never snored a day in my life.”
“You snored yourself awake,” I say with a mischievous grin, nuzzling the side of her neck to make her laugh. “You and lumberjacks have a lot in common. I’ve never heard anyone snore so loudly in all my life, and that includes my Grandpa Jack.”
“No way!” she says through her laughter. “You’re so full of shit, your eyes have turned brown.”
“Well that explains so much about my appearance.” I nuzzle the side of her neck, and whisper, “I’d rather make you full of something else.” I know that’s such a cheesy pick-up line, but I can’t help myself. Being around Brittney is fun and freeing at a level I’ve never experienced before. I’m free to be cheesy, dammit.
“Oh fuck, what time is it?” She rolls over – out of my arms – and grabs her phone.
My arms miss her already.
As does my dick.
“Dammit, I gotta go!” she says, springing out of bed. “I’d love to take you up on your offer later though. After work? Or later this week?”
She’s shoving her clothes back on as she talks, and I slowly watch her beautiful body be covered up by layers of clothes – first a bra, then a camisole, then a silk blouse.
It’s painful to watch her skin disappear like that, but a part of me knows that I can’t just kidnap her and force her to stay in my bed for the next year.
Or two.
“Yeah, why don’t you text me a time and place. We can meet up tonight. Wherever is good for you.”
“Thanks, babe,” she says, leaning over and kissing me quickly on the mouth. I ache for more, but she’s heading out the door and so I have to content myself with the knowledge that I get to see her tonight.
I can’t wait.
82
Brittney
I’m sitting in the Emporio Armani with Erica and Ashley, sipping demurely at my bitch beer. I don’t want to get drunk tonight – I want to remember it. Like all nights with Kaden.
He’s going to be late, but I forgive him. I know he has a lot on his plate right now, and just being able to see him is worth all the waiting in the world.
“You sure seem happy tonight,” Ashley says with a wicked grin.
“If you’d been in Kaden’s bed last night, you would be happy today too,” I say with a matching wicked grin. All day today, I couldn’t stop smiling. Floating on air is such a perfect description for me today. I don’t think my feet have touched the ground.