“Mmm,” she murmurs. “Can I stay here all day?”

You can stay there forever for all I care.

“Whatever you want,” I say. “I can order breakfast if you want and have it brought up here. Or if that’s too clingy and pathetic, I can take a shower and get out of your hair.”

Her laughter rumbles against my chest, and she kisses my pec and then laps at my nipple. I grow hard beneath her. And that fucking knowing look that passes over her beautiful face drives me nuts as she slides down my body and between my legs.

“Or I can just . . . play with you for a bit.” And before I can answer, she lowers her mouth over my erection and rolls her tongue around the top.

“Baby . . .” I say softly. “You . . . aw fuck, you don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” she says as she kisses down my length and to my balls. She laps at them with her tongue and spreads my legs farther before taking my balls gently in her mouth.

“Hell,” I whisper as I shut my eyes.

And that’s how I start my morning, with my girl sucking my cock, only for me to turn her around and return the favor to her clit.

* * *

“Go ahead, say it.” Myla wiggles her eyebrows, causing me to laugh.

I lean back on the headboard and let out a deep sigh. “Fine. Waffles are by far a superior breakfast meal.”

“Over any protein bar or protein shake?”

“Yes, waffles beat out any sort of protein-enriched breakfast.”

She smiles, satisfied, and then picks up my fork and feeds me the last bite of my waffle. “Does this mean you’re going to ditch the protein bars?”

If it means I get to keep you, then yes.

“I think it means I’ll be opening up my variety of breakfast meals.”

“And people say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” She gathers our plates and carries them to the cart that was wheeled in. My eyes don’t stray from her, or the way she looks in my Bobbies shirt, or her mussed-up hair from where I dug my fingers through it, or the evident beard burn on her legs.

It reminds me of what life used to be like.

So carefree.

Makes me yearn for her even more.

I rest my hands on my lap and say, “So . . . did you get a grade on your paper yet?”

She pauses and glances over her shoulder. Her look of shock should be cute, but it’s just a reminder that I’ve neglected this part of her life.

“Uh, no, that’s going to take a few weeks.”

“Ah, well, what was it about?”

Now her brow creases as she stands tall and faces me. I can see her wanting to respond with a sarcastic comment since it’s in her nature. Probably something along the lines of “why would you care?” But she surprises me as she makes her way back to the bed and takes a seat on her knees.