Don't Play With My Heart - A Jai Brooks Fan Fiction (Watty Awards 2014)

Chapter 12: Your Eyes

Tamara’s POV

I wake up to an unfamiliar ceiling before I realise where I am. Beside me is a still sleeping Jai and instead of waking him to get breakfast, I decide to stay in the security of his grasp and savour these sweet moments. At this time of the morning, I am usually recovering from endless nightmares that plague my sleep but today there was nothing to recover from. It was the first night in months that I had had a full night of sleep without flashes of that night fill my imagination. It was absolutely ridiculous to think that what I had with Jai was going to magically fix all my problems; I wasn’t that naïve. But hope rose inside me that maybe being with him was helping me in some way and there was no way that I was going to throw that away.

I felt his chest rise and fall a little quicker on my back, and I know that he was now awake.

“Morning,” I mumble.

“Good morning Tams,” he said in his unbelievably sexy morning voice.

“You want some breakfast?” I say as I wriggle around in his grip and face him, just centimetres from his face.

“Absolutely,” he says before he smashed his lips against mine, cupping my face in the process.

I wrap my arms around his neck as I allow entrance and the kiss becomes more and more heated as his hands find my waist. I end up on top of him, straddling his waist, furiously making out with him as his hands explore under my shirt. Every place he touches me with his hands erupt in a trail of goosebumps. He moves his mouth to my sweet spot and I can’t help but let a moan escape my lips in pure pleasure. He feathers kisses back up my neck until he finds my mouth again. When he slowly lifts the hem of my shirt, while never breaking the kiss, I start to panic and quickly stop dead in my tracks.

“Sorry,” I say instantly.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he says sweetly, propping himself up with his back against the headboard of the bed and bringing his lips to my forehead, “you don’t have to do anything that you’re not comfortable with. I would never make you do something that you don’t want, okay.”

“I know,” I say with a smile, “but being serious now, do you want something to eat. Like food?”

His gorgeous smile plays out on his lips and he nods with a slight chuckle. I detach myself from him and grab his hand and lead him downstairs to the kitchen. He then proceeds to sit me down and tell me he is making breakfast.

“You’re not allowed to do anything, except sit there and admire my brilliance. And look beautiful of course, but you don’t even need to try, because you just are all the time,” he says.

“Yes sir,” I reply with sass, although not being able to dull the blush over his compliment.

As he effortlessly manoeuvres around the kitchen, preparing homemade pancakes for us, I admire everything about him. The fact that I could even be able to admire him preparing breakfast at all was a miracle to me. The way his muscles flexed when he flipped the delicacies onto the plate and placed them in front of me made me melt inside. I know it was very superficial of me to think that, but who wouldn’t when the sexiest man on the planet is roaming around your kitchen, topless.

“Bon appetite,” he says as he also places a knife and fork beside my plate, “what are you waiting for? Put me out of my misery and trial my magnificence.”

I don’t waste any time in digging into the aromatically smelling plate of heaven. It tastes just as good as it smells, if not better.

“Is there anything that you’re not good at?” I tease as I finish my mouthful.