Lonely and Tired

California King

Whilst waking up curled around Brian was a perfect start to the day, drooling onto his chest while suffering the hangover of doom definitely wasn't.

I groaned and tried to wipe the drool from his naked chest. Naked, mmmm. When had that happened? It sure as hell wasn't helping with the drool situation. Brian was still fast asleep. I wish I could say that he was as much of a drooling fool when he slept as I was but that would have been a lie. He was absolutely beautiful. Dark lashes fanned across his cheeks and his hair was mussed about his head. This level of perfection in the morning was almost unattractive.

I realised I must have striped my jeans off at some point in the night as well as done the pull your bra off through the armholes of your t-shirt thing because all I had on were my knickers and t-shirt. Nature was calling with a vengeance so I slid out of bed and scurried into the ensuite bathroom. After I'd done what needed to be done I grabbed the tooth paste that sat in a glass on the vanity unit and smeared some on my finger before rubbing it over my teeth and gums. There was no need for skanky hangover breath.

I could have gone in search of the kitchen and some kind of hangover defying beverages but Brian's ridiculously comfortable California King bed was calling me. I glanced around the bedroom as I made my way back to bed. It was stylish but utterly impersonal, as if a decorator had thrown something together for a generic bachelor. A low, wide, dark timber bedhead extended into a couple of low tables on either side of the bed topped with industrial style lamps. A navy blue upholstered low slung armchair sat in one corner opposite a wide set of drawers that looked to be made out reclaimed timber and steel. Our clothes scattered around the room provided some personality, but unless Brian was a slob, the clothes wouldn't be there on a daily basis. Although a girl could dream.

Of course the piece de resistance was the gorgeous man currently tangled in the rumpled grey linen sheets and as I slid back under those sheets I couldn't help but notice that like me Brian had stripped down to the bare essentials. He wore nothing but an impressively clinging pair of black boxer briefs. I momentarily contemplated crawling back out of bed and running my head under the cold tap to cool down.

As I settled back into the softness of the bed warm hands reached for me and Brian pulled me close with a sigh of contentment. I fought back the urge to panic. It had been all too long since I'd snuggled in a comfortable bed with a man. So long in fact that I couldn't remember the last time it had happened. It had been Eli of course but I couldn't remember when exactly our marriage had disintegrated to the point that what should have been one of the pleasures of marriage had long since fallen by the wayside. I felt a vague stab of guilt that I'd not yet mentioned my broken marriage to Brian, after all he'd shared plenty of painful details with me about his marriage breakdown. I drifted into sleep thinking that maybe when we properly woke up and my hangover wasn't still punishing me I'd share a bit more of my history with him.

When I woke again I'd somehow managed to turn in my sleep and was facing Brian's chest. Our legs were tangled together and my nose was pressed up against the tattoo that crossed his chest. I pulled back slightly and began to trace the letters with my index finger; his skin was so divinely smooth. The skin beneath my finger shifted as he drew in a deep breath. The hand that rested on my hip gripped a little firmer and his voice startled me.

"You'd better not be scoping out the best places to cut for Buffalo Bill junior."

I burst out laughing and wrapped my arms around his waist as I buried my face against his chest. He vibrated as he laughed along with me.

"That kid really makes me nervous."

"I'll protect you," I said as I traced my fingers up the length of his spine.