Six Years
“Not that the other times when he fell asleep in my bedroom didn’t count, but it was different. For one, back then he had clothes on.
Right now, the light sheet was barely covering him, leaving one hip for my eyes to see. His chest with barely there hair had me drooling, thinking about how I had my hands and mouth on him, tracing every one of his muscles. I smiled and put a hand to my mouth, careful to not giggle as giddiness made me feel restless. His hair was all mussed and sticking up high on top of his head, probably from the countless times I had played with it in the throes of passion. His scruff was even darker today in the bright light of the first rays of the sun peeking through the half closed curtains. The best part was the hand he had on my stomach, his fingers sprayed over my bare skin as if to have a perfect hold on me and my body. As if to keep me in bed, next to him, as close as possible.
His breathing was calm, deep and it was slowly soothing me back to sleep.
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