“Meow.” Hobbes batted at his nose.
“Are you serious right now?” Gage grumbled. Beside him something soft, warm, and naked stirred, and he glanced over his shoulder and smiled.
A dull dawn washed the room in varying shades of monochrome, offering weak light that illuminated golden curls on the pillow beside his. Lily was snuggled against his back, her arm draped over his middle, her weighty breasts squashed against him. Cute little mewling noises came from her. Cool as the speedboat dream was, coming out of it was so much nicer. He’d awakened in heaven.
“Meow.”
A heaven the damn cat was dragging him away from.
“Bad timing, cat.” He gingerly slid out of bed, gathering Hobbes in his arms, and trudged downstairs. “Remind me again why I thought letting you live here was a good idea because right now I can’t come up with a single reason.”
A series of body-shaking yawns later, he’d filled the cat’s bowls, taken a leak, and was back upstairs. When he walked into his bedroom, he was squarely back in heaven because Lily was seated upright, naked to her waist, stretching her arms above her head, her eyes closed. Her curls were a silky blond froth surrounding her angelic face. She took his breath away. He gawked like a horny teenager—or a horny twenty-six-year-old man. The sight jolted him awake quicker than downing a pot of coffee.
He closed the door behind him. Her arms dropped, and her eyes popped open. A shy smile curved her lips, and she began pulling the covers up.
“Morning, Goldilocks.” He climbed on the bed, walking on his knees, and pulled the covers from her. “I hate to see this perfect view covered up.” A pretty blush rose up her cheeks, and he leaned down and kissed her.
When he pulled away and sat back on his knees, her eyes roamed over him, settling unabashedly on his engorged cock. “Is this how you walk around every morning, Professor?”
“You mean without clothes, or with a raging hard-on?”
“Both,” she giggled.
“Only when you’re here.” Still on his knees, he sat up and stroked himself. “See something you want?” Yeah, he was playing a cocky SOB, but he was having hella fun. She didn’t seem to mind.
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “For a professor, you sure don’t act very professor-y.” Her smile turned wicked, and her eyes traveled back to his hand on his shaft—and widened.
That was all the encouragement he needed. He slid his hand up and down, flashing her a grin. “I thought you changed my job description last night from professor to sex stud.” He paused and struck a beefcake pose, adding a Michael Jackson pelvic thrust because he thought he could.
Turns out he couldn’t because she fell to one side and began laughing hysterically.
He choked back his own laughter. “Killing me here.” Hips gyrating, his movements becoming more ridiculous, he was fairly certain he looked like a cross between a mechanical bull and Gumby. He really didn’t want to know.
She was whooping now and slapping her palm against the mattress.
“Hey!” he barked. “Putting on my best stud moves, and you’re laughing?” He could barely get the words out without falling over in a fit laughter. He walked on his knees toward her until he was inches away. “And as you can see, I am one hundred percent primed, although if you keep laughing …”
She pulled herself upright and wiped silly tears from her face, no longer aware that she was fully exposed herself. And he wasn’t stupid enough to remind her of this fact.
With a chuckle, he stroked himself again. “All yours if you care to take over.”
Body still shuddering with giggles, she sat up on her knees and faced him. Then she wrapped her hand around him. He pulled in a sharp breath, going from hilarity to gotta-have-you-now in a heartbeat.
Her fingers played along his length, sending his heart rate into outer space. She nipped his neck, then soothed it with her tongue. “Bossy sex stud,” she purred, “It’s past time you performed your duties.”
“On it. I will not let it be said that I am a sex stud who shirks his duties.”
Covers drawn to her necklace, Lily snuggled against Gage’s chest as he reclined against the headboard, his arm draped around her slender shoulders. He dropped a kiss on her head. “If we were smokers …”
She chuckled, and the motion tickled him. “What do you call what we just did? I’m surprised we didn’t incinerate the room.”
He didn’t disagree, which was probably obvious from his stupid grin. “What would Goldilocks like for breakfast this morning? I can cook something, or we can go out.”
“What time is it?”
“A little after six, I think.”
“Oh! So early. What time did you wake up?”
“Five? Four thirty? Technically, Hobbes woke me up. It couldn’t have been too early because it was getting light out.” He brushed her hair back, more because he loved touching it than because it needed to be brushed back. She canted her head and looked up at him.
“What?” he asked.
“Just thinking how quickly things can change in twenty-four hours. Yesterday morning, I wouldn’t have dreamed we’d be doing this.” She waved a hand between them.
“You mean having sex, eating, having more sex, sleeping fifteen minutes, fucking, and fucking again?” A laugh rumbled through his chest. “Gotta say I’m a big fan of how I woke up this morning. You?” I could so get used to this.
Her laughter joined his. “Don’t forget the bath and shower.”
“I rolled those into the general fucking category.”
“Seriously, how does that work when you have to be in tip-top shape for your games?”
“You think what we’re doing isn’t keeping me in tip-top shape?”
She slapped his chest. “You know what I mean. You have to eat healthy, sleep healthy, work out healthy. How does sex fit in? Especially if you’re awake all night doing it?” A mischievous gleam danced in her eyes.
“Well, there’s a little room for less-than-perfect behavior. But Coach likes us to … well,
