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Lavender, spent, collapses into me. Her naked body is pressed against mine as my now soft cock slips out of her. I embrace her as she slips into my arms, her back against my chest. She’s exhausted after that, as am I.
She doesn’t have anywhere to be. The fire still burns, keeping us quite warm, and the blanket is nearby. We’re as comfortable as we could possibly be.
It’s no surprise she’s drifting to sleep in my arms.
I’m not going to be far behind her.
Sleeping on a blanket out in the middle of nowhere is going to be the most restful sleep I’ve had in ages.
SIX
lavender
This morning is much like any morning within the past week.
I wake up in the arms of this beautiful man who is holding me tight. We had just made the sweetest love imaginable the night before, so we both slept well and are aching the good ache.
This time, though, we did it in my fancy chalet that I rented. We had been out all night before, dancing at the local bar, drinking a bit, and when we got back, I decided it was my turn to take him home.
After all, I’d been to his cabin a few times within the past week, so it’s only fair. Besides, I should get some use out of it. It’s so expensive, and it feels like a waste every minute I’m not actually inside of it.
I’m up before Hawk, as I usually am. His grip on me is never tight enough that I need to struggle to escape, so I wriggle out of his grasp and head to the bathroom , slipping on a bathrobe this time around. I’d have preferred one of Hawk’s shirts, but given we’re at what’s pretty much my place, I think he needs that shirt to get dressed in.
Life is so unfair sometimes.
Everything about our time together has been great. He’d even already taken me to meet his family, who are just sweethearts, every single one of them. It’s amazing to me that they actually seem to love and care for one another. And support one another, even if they might not agree with it themselves.
It’s everything my family is not.
And it makes me incredibly jealous.
I head into the kitchen, and start to cook up something. I’m the host here, so I kind of take it as my duty. All the times I’d gone over to Hawk’s cabin, he had treated me to breakfast in bed: eggs, bacon, toast, some pancakes, and generally spoiling me the best he could.
I yearn to be a baker, but baking for breakfast is usually something you do beforehand. Not that I don’t know how to cook otherwise. I crack some eggs and start to make some French toast, a recipe I took from one of our house cooks. I had to beg him to teach me how to do it. Retrospectively, I could see why it’d be annoying to teach his client’s teenage daughter how to cook. That wasn’t part of their job description, after all.
But they did it anyway. And I’m glad I can have this excellent recipe whenever I want, and share it with whomever I want.
I start whisking the eggs and thaw out some sausage, wondering if Hawk is one of those types who’d get ornery if his meat didn’t contain real meat. It’d be a good accompaniment for the meal anyhow.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see my guest walk into my kitchen, stretching himself out and yawning. “Good morning, love,” he says.
“Good morning, love,” I say right back. I glance over at him. He’s walking around naked as the day he was born, not an ounce of shame inside of him.
I’m not surprised. He didn’t show any when he was walking around his own home, and I guess in this case there’s no reason not to. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, and I quite like seeing him in his birthday suit.
“Where are the towels?” he asks. “Bathroom, I’m guessing?”
“Yes. Probably should make doubly sure. These aren’t my chairs, and it’d be rude to rub ourselves all over them.”
He smirks and lets out a little laugh as he goes to retrieve them before coming back and having a seat. “Not your chairs, you said? Are you renting this place? All the furniture included?”
“Yeah. For the summer.”
He takes in the room. All the fancy paintings on the wall, the luxurious leather couch, the seventy-inch TV in front of it. “And you’re renting this place on the pay of an assistant baker?”
“Well, no,” I say, focusing on mixing my batter. “This is basically a vacation for me.”
“A vacation where you go work part-time at a bakery?”
