Wyatt
I wake up when something warm shifts next to me. I tense up for a moment, wondering who it could be. Haven’t shared my bed with anybody in a while, with Geneva and I refusing to use the same room long before the divorce became final. But almost immediately I realize it’s Kim and relax. I prop my head on my knuckles and study her. She looks so peaceful asleep, sweet and… What else am I feeling here? I realize it’s protectiveness. She looks so defenseless and trusting with nothing but the sheet wrapped around her. I want to do everything in my power to keep her safe.
She shifts again, and the sheets twist around some more. We were pretty insatiable last night. We didn’t fall asleep until I’d had four orgasms. I think she came at least ten or twelve times. Or so my ego says.
My dick’s already hard. Ready for number five.
Yeah. That sounds like a great idea, except Kim looks too tired. She said something about needing her sleep after her final climax. Eight hours of sleep or I’m going to turn into a psycho pumpkin witch.
Today’s Sunday. No need to wake her up yet. It’s just the two of us here, and we can afford to be lazy. Have brunch or something. Hang out. She used to like eating popcorn and watching movies. Wonder if she still does. I’d love to hold her on the couch, while she giggles at some joke or gasps at an over-the-top action scene.
I brush my lips over her shoulder, enjoying her softness…and the most amazing scent clinging to her skin. After breathing her in one more time, I get up, brush my teeth and shower. Then I note the bathroom countertop is pretty bare as I dry myself. Won’t Kim need her things in the morning—like lotions and creams? Geneva used like a hundred different types twice a day.
On the other hand, we aren’t in a relationship where we leave stuff like that at each other’s places. Besides, I don’t know if she wants to leave anything here even if we were. The woman lives next door.
Then again, if she were anything like Geneva, I’d say she would, because Geneva hates for people see her without full makeup. Kim isn’t that shallow or obsessed about her looks. If she were, she would’ve done something to get rid of her scar.
But my perverse mind conjures up images of a bathroom full of Kim’s favorite body wash, shampoo, conditioner and bottles and jars of skin lotion and creams anyway.
Whoa. Slow the hell down.
I don’t even know what Kim’s thinking about all this right now. She might just want something casual and simple. She’s obviously devoted to her career, and might not want anything that would distract her from that. And it isn’t like
I can just jump into a serious relationship without considering the consequences. I have a kid to think about. Kim and Vi get along well, but that doesn’t mean Vi’s going to be okay with me and Kim dating. Vi’s counselor once said kids can be irrationally contradictory. And she said that includes Vi feeling like I’m trying to replace her mother with another woman when she isn’t ready to cope with that yet. Even though Vi thinks Kim’s pretty damn awesome, she might not feel that way if she thinks Kim and I are dating.
Or…Vi could think that you and Kim together is the best thing ever…
Damn it. I try to pull my thoughts together, which isn’t easy without coffee. But I manage. Vi’s gone for the summer. Kim and I can explore what we have between us for the next few weeks, then figure things out. Not every decision has to be made right now.
I pull a new toothbrush out from the stash of extras and lay it on the counter. When I’m out of the bathroom with the towel around my waist, Kim sits up, her back hunched and her head in her hands. She rubs her eyes, yawning. God, she looks so cute, like a sleepy cat.
“Thought you were going to sleep in,” I say.
She lifts her head and looks at me. “I’ve got to get up. Otherwise I’m going to pay the price tomorrow morning, and I have to go to work.”
The raspy morning huskiness of her voice tugs at my dick. I go over and kiss her. Rolling around in bed counts as getting up, right? I mean, neither of us would actually be sleeping.
Before I can convince her of my brilliant logic, she pulls back, her expression somewhere between dreamy and grumpy. “I need coffee.”
I laugh at how cute she is. “Coming right up. With breakfast.” I can seduce her after I feed her. “Left you a new toothbrush on the bathroom counter.”
She smiles. “Thanks.”
I put on a shirt and shorts and go to the kitchen. Then I start the coffeemaker, lay some bacon strips in the frying pan and take inventory. Not a lot around here that a woman would like for breakfast. There’s a box of cereal, some milk, one small yogurt—something Vi left behind—eggs and cheese. I haven’t been to the store this week. Hopefully Kim’s okay with eggs and bacon. I don’t want to have a mini-argument about it, and having to choke down “calorie-dense” bacon is something Geneva would’ve lost her marbles over.
Kim’s not Geneva.
Right. Gotta keep reminding myself of that.
Kim comes out of the bedroom in one of my dress shirts, sleeves rolled up. The hem stops several inches above her knees, exposing a lot of smooth, shapely leg.
I always thought wearing a man’s shirt was an overly calculated seduction move, because women only do it hoping to look sexy the morning after so they can stick around. But it’s not only hot, it’s intimate. Having a woman put on your clothes in the morning, so she smells like your laundry soap… It’s like she’s living with you, sharing a space and a life.
“Hope you don’t mind,” she says. “I can’t wear my dress again. It’s wrinkled to death.” She takes a stool at the island.
“Don’t mind a bit.” I gesture at the frying pan. “You like bacon?”
“I love bacon.”