When I walked into his bedroom, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne was sprawled across his bed. His MacBook was open — unlike his eyes.
I joined him on the bed, and they flew open, searching wildly. When he realized that the imposter was only his girlfriend, he relaxed into the sheets.
Smiling, I crawled closer and snuck a kiss. "Hi."
Jameson lazily pulled me against him, kissing me back. "Hi."
Since he still seemed sleepy, I crept into his lap and kissed him deeper. Jameson was more than happy to run his hands along my sides. However, his lips were lacking the excitement mine had.
"Hi," I said again, kissing him until he had no choice but to grab my greedy hands.
He was laughing by then. Laughing at my desperation to revive his enthusiasm. Pressing me down into his mattress, he lowered his lips against mine.
It was deep. Passionate. Ravenous.
Just as I was thinking that my guy was finally awake, Jameson pinned my hands together and grinned, murmuring, "Hi."
