Page 99 of Matteo

It’s not surprising that I dozed off with her running her soft fingers through my hair. My cock twitches back to life at the memory. Then I remember that I didn't even help her get the couch ready for me, as she made up my bed.

I get off the couch, just as she walks in, a cup of coffee in her hand. Her mouth falls open, her gaze slowly trailing south. I stare down, inwardly groaning because I'm only wearing boxers. And packing a lot of morning wood.

She chuckles softly. “Someone's happy to see me.”

I remember waking halfway through the night, feeling too hot in her furry blanket, so I stripped down to my boxers. I hold my hands in front of me, trying to hide my tell-tale bulge.

“Morning,” she says, with a grin.

“Morning.” I can barely meet her eyes.

“You want coffee?”

“Always.”

She disappears into the kitchen and I frantically look around for my clothes. Find them on the floor, at the side of the couch, and try to hop one leg in then the other. I put my T-shirt on before raking a hand through my hair. I’m sure I look a mess, even though I don’t feel like a mess. I feel relaxed and ready to spend another day with this woman.

Unfortunately, with my morning breath, kissing is out of the way. She comes back and hands me a mug.

“Thank you.” I love a cup of coffee first thing in the morning.

“You're welcome.”

Elizabeth smiles and we stand facing one another.

“Sleep well?” she asks.

“Unbelievably well. I must have dozed off.”

“You did. You were telling me about your brother, and your voice just … faded.”

“You should have woken me.”

She shakes her head. “You looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to.”

“Did I snore?” Suddenly it matters. She makes a face like I did. Damn. “Did I drool?”

She winces again, not denying, not admitting. Jesus. I don't want her to see me like a drooling, snoring loser.

“Does it matter?”

I shrug, but it does matter. I take another sip of my coffee, feeling a little self-conscious now, and aware that I don’t smell shower fresh. Still, my Sunday morning just got off to the most awesome start.

Usually I’d head for the gym, then maybe a few hours in the lab, then see what the guys are up to.

“What are we doing today?” I ask, realizing that I don't have a fresh change of clothes, or a toothbrush, and I need a shower. But going home is the last thing on my mind.

“You’re helping me,” she announces, like she’s made plans already.

“Happy to. What with?”

“The senior center where I volunteer. I won't have time to bake anything but I help out with computers and moving things and ... just general stuff. I’ll probably go and get some groceries first. Wanna come?” she asks, looking at me expectantly.

“Why not?” Anything to spend the day with her, and also, I don’t think I have a choice in the matter.

“Because you look like you could be useful,” Elizabeth adds.

I stare at her in disbelief. “You’re recruiting me for manual labor?”