He laughed, and climbed in beside her, turning so that he was facing her. “I can say you’re the first woman I would have slept with all night in a bed.”
“Then I will consider it an honor.”
Waking up to the scent of bacon wasn’t something that Hunter was accustomed to. What he also didn’t expect was to be wrapped around Payton’s pillow, hugging it to his chest. Breathing in her scent, he let out a moan as his already stiff cock pulsed some pre-cum out of the tip.
This woman was going to be the death of him. Last night, watching her dance after she had given him an ultimatum … he didn’t do well with those kinds of threats, but she’d made him hard. It hadn’t been his intention to leave her alone to party, but the moment he got talking, everything else had faded into the background. Time had slipped away from him so that when Payton came to him, he’d not realized how long it had been.
It was his fault, and he took all of the blame. After finishing his conversation with his friend, he’d watched Payton on the dancefloor, her tits giving that little bounce, threatening to spill out of the top of the dress. What he’d loved though was her ass. It was nice, round, and he couldn’t wait to fuck it. He loved grabbing hold of her butt, and riding her hard.
Climbing out of the bed, he went to the bathroom, did his morning piss, washed his hands, brushed his teeth, and made his way out toward the kitchen.
Standing in the doorway of the kitchen, he paused and admired Payton’s ass again. This time, it was covered in a long shirt, but he didn’t mind. Her dark hair was pinned on top of her head, and she was dancing to some music.
She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “You’re awake finally. I thought you would spend all day snoring.”
“I don’t snore.”
“You do. A little. You’re not perfect, Hunter.” She winked at him, and placed several rashers of bacon on a plate. “I promised you breakfast, and you can see, I deliver.”
He took a seat, and his stomach grumbled.
Payton served her own breakfast, and sat opposite him. She poured him a cup of coffee, humming as she did.
“You’re not hungover?”
“Nope. I don’t drink enough to get hungover. I like that buzz you get. If I’d had another shot of tequila, now that would have been a whole other scenario.” She drank some orange juice, grabbed a slice of toast, and took a bite.
She ate without fear, and he found her refreshing.
“Don’t you like bacon? You’re not a vegetarian. You had beef at the Italian place.”
“I’m not vegetarian. It’s … different watching a woman eat.”
“A night of dancing, I’m famished. I’m trying not to eat like a pig.”
“I don’t think that is possible.”
“Don’t you ever taste something that is like the most amazing flavor and you feel like you can’t get enough in your mouth? My first ever meatball sub was like that. Garlicky meatballs, tomato sauce, and cheese, shove it in, and wow.” She did a pouty face. “I lost a white shirt that day. I had sauce all over my boobs. It was so embarrassing and so worth it.”
He took a bite of the bacon, and then a scoopful of the scrambled eggs. They were delicious.
“You didn’t think I could cook, did you?” she asked.
There was a twinkle in her eye that he was finding so beautiful to look at.
“I’m guilty. You baked the cake and you cook.”
“I do.” She got up, and went to the cupboards, showing him that they were in fact heaving with food. Spices, pasta, rice, and all kinds of other goodies. “This is what I do on my weekend. I clean out my cupboards, and check over everything I have. I spend the weekend cooking the food I will take for the following week. Put some in my fridge, others in my freezer, and I’m all set.” She closed everything up, and came to sit down. “What are your plans for today?”
“Sitting and watching you cook.”
“I’m all set meals wise,” she said. “If you’re free, we can spend some time together. You did say you wanted the weekends all to yourself, or has that changed?” She licked some juice off her finger, and smiled at him.
“Come here,” he said. She walked to him, and he pushed away from the table. Tugging her down onto his lap, he sank his fingers into her hair. “You asked me if there’s anything I’ve tasted that I couldn’t get enough of.”
“Your pussy. I want another taste of your sweet pussy.” With his free hand, he pressed it between her thighs, and they both moaned. “You’re not wearing any panties.”
“I rarely wear them, Hunter.” She pressed her lips against his, and he ran his hands down to cup her ass. As he squeezed and kneaded the flesh, they both moaned.