IWMR | Bbangsaz

Chapter 4

Minji's

I wake up to the feeling of the sun streaming in through the window, warming my skin. Hanni's body is next to me, emanating a different kind of warmth. She's still asleep, curled up like a cat, her brown hair spread across the white pillowcase. She's got the sheet pulled up over her chest, but I know she's naked under there, and the very thought sends a rush of blood straight to my cock.

I consider waking her up, because even though we fucked most of the night, I want nothing more right now than to feel her sheathing my cock again. I decide to let her sleep though — there'll be plenty of time for more fucking later.

I scrub my face with my hands. Second to sex, the thing I most want right now is coffee. I gaze down once more at her sleeping form and then head to the kitchen to put on a pot.

As I stand naked in the kitchen, I poke my head into the fridge to see if I actually have anything to feed her. Should I offer to take her to brunch? Go get pastries?

To be honest, I have no idea of the etiquette here, because I've never stuck around this long the morning after. Either I'm out the door right after sex, or I'm putting them into a cab and sending them on their merry way with a kiss and a smile. Letting Hanni spend the night went against everything I normally feel so adamantly about.

I chew my bottom lip thoughtfully as the coffee maker gurgles. Tae's got one of those fancy espresso machines, and he insisted on leaving it here for me, but I'm more of a regular coffee kind of girl. I brought my own coffee pot from home, the same one I've had for the last seven or eight years. It still makes a mean cup of coffee and right now, the aroma drifting through the kitchen is making my mouth water.

That's not the only thing making my mouth water though. The thought of Hanni sleeping naked, just a few rooms away, is enough to make me salivate even more. Damn, that woman. I can still taste her on my tongue, on my lips. Her scent is all over me, and I fucking love it.

So, yeah, I had let her stay over. That doesn't mean anything, of course. Except maybe that I wanted the chance to fuck her again. And okay, the thought of having coffee and pastries with her isn't bad either — she's smart, she's funny, she's beautiful, she's talented. Hell, the girl made her own damn dress. That's … well, let's just say I've never met a woman who could make her own dress before, let alone look that fucking sexy in it.

The coffee maker is just giving off its final sputtering hiss when I hear her stirring in the bedroom. I pour two cups, intending to take her one, but when I turn around, she standing in the kitchen with me.

"Hi," she says softly.

A slow grin builds on my face. She's dug up one of my plaid shirts and is wearing that — and, I'm pretty sure, nothing else. Her hair against the red and black check is stunning, but my eyes go straight to the swell of her chest where she's left the top few buttons undone, and then her creamy white thighs down below.

"Hi." I can't stop smiling at her. I'm starting to feel like an idiot, but damn, I never knew how sexy it could be to see a woman wearing one of my shirts. Or maybe just this woman.

"I found this shirt on the back of your chair — I hope it's okay."

"It's perfect," I tell her. "You're perfect."

She blushes and it's fucking adorable. I pass her a mug and then use my free hand to pull her close to me. I let my hand drop low, cupping her naked ass and drawing her to me. My cock is already nuzzling in between her legs, seeking out her heat. I was right that she isn't wearing anything under the shirt, and I can feel her slickness coating me already. I groan into her hair.