The next afternoon, Greg opened his eyes slowly, squinting from the amount of sunlight that her large window let in the room. He reached over for her and instead got a handful of her crisp navy blue cotton sheet. "Jilaine?" he asked and propped himself up on his elbows to scan the room through squinted eyes.
"I'm out here," she said through the screen door to the balcony. He stretched as he stood and stumbled his way over to the door.
"What are you doing?" he asked in a scratchy voice, leaning his arm on the doorway.
"Sitting." He noticed she was seated on a black wrought iron bench and was wrapped up in a blanket. He slid the door open and padded onto the balcony, sitting next to her on the bench and borrowing a corner of her blanket. He looked out at the view and smiled.
"Wow, this must have jacked up your rent." She had a view of the outskirts, most specifically the mountains, and was up high enough in the building that it added an incredible perspective. "This is amazing."
"I come out here to think," she said softly and curled up more under the blanket.
"What are you thinking about today?"
"You, mostly." She absentmindedly watched as he used his hand to toy with hers, gently grazing his fingertips over her palm. "Are you hungry?"
"Wait, what are you thinking about me?" he laughed.
"I don't know. Nothing specific, just you." She looked up at him with a little shrug and he fought back a yawn. "You can go back to sleep if you want."
"What time is it?" She ducked her head under the blanket to glance at her watch.
"12:32."
"I have to work at three." She groaned softly and shifted her body in the opposite direction so she was rested against him instead of the arm of the bench. He smiled a little and adjusted an arm onto her shoulders, letting his hand stroke her hair. "What, you don't work today?"
"No, I do, I had just forgot until you said that."
"Sorry to dredge up such painful memories," he teased.
"Sure you are."
"I am!" She peeked up at him and after analyzing his facial expression, nodded.
"Okay, I can accept that." She paused as his right hand took over where the left had left off, playing with her fingers. "Think it's too fast?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "But that's why I trust it." She sighed quietly and picked tiny fuzzies off the blanket. He placed a soft kiss on her temple and closed his eyes to take in the scent of her hair, opening them again to look out over the mountains. He felt a rumble in his stomach and grinned crookedly. "Actually, to answer your earlier question, I am pretty hungry." She laughed and lightly scratched over his stomach, the feeling of the friction between their skin giving them both goosebumps. She turned her head toward his neck and took in a quiet breath through her nose before placing a soft kiss on the crook of his neck. She scooted her waist closer to his and kissed down to his collarbone, her lips collapsing around it, and slowly dragged them off.
"You taste just as good as you smell," she said in a soft purr. His eyes closed and he placed his hands on either side of her hips to pull her onto his lap, adjusting the blanket around them after she was comfortable.
"If you taste as good as you smell, it's going to be one hell of a day," he mumbled as his lips brushed over hers. She shivered under the covers and rested her hands on his pecs comfortably. She pulled his bottom lip between hers and gently sucked on it, her fingertips lightly scratching over his skin. He pulled away for a split second, just long enough to gaze into her eyes, then placed a trail of soft concrete kisses up her jawline to the sweet spot just below her ear. The tip of his tongue flashed out from between his lips and flickered over her skin. He immediately felt the reaction of the goosebumps that attacked her skin and used them as a guide, following them down her collarbone and up to the hollow of her neck, filling in the curve of the bone with his lips. "Vanilla," he murmured sweetly.
"Hmm?" she asked in a scratchy voice.
"You taste like vanilla." She locked her eyes on his and stared into them before letting out a soft sigh.
"How about that breakfast?"
"All we do is eat," he grinned.
"It seems like it, doesn't it?" She combed her fingers through his hair, leaving it even messier than usual, and left a soft kiss on his forehead. "Come on, I'll cook."
"Only if I can watch."
"I think that can be arranged." He placed his hands on her hips again as if he were going to help her up then left them there with a crooked grin. "What now, Sanders?"
"I was thinking that it's not good to eat before you swim, so it might not be good to eat before you take a shower."
"What on earth made you think of that?" Jilaine laughed.
"I was thinking about you in the shower," he shrugged.
"While you were in the shower or thinking about me taking a shower?"
"Do I look like I've taken a shower?" he grinned and ran a hand through his hair. "I suppose a combination of both of those, though." She gave him a blank look that indicated he needed to continue his explanation. "I was thinking about you taking a shower, but you were taking that shower while I was in the shower." She stared at him blankly for another couple of seconds then wriggled her eyebrows playfully.
"Let's go, soldier." It was his turn to give her a blank stare. "Greg," she said calmly, "it's not every morning I'm going to offer to hop in the shower with you, so you might just want to take me up on it without thinking too long."
"Soldier?" was all he could muster to comment.
"Because you're standing at attention." She flashed him a wicked grin and stood up, leaving him the blanket and sauntering in the house. He watched her leave somewhat mindlessly then hopped up and followed her path inside the glass doors, tripping over the track that stuck up off the ground not even an inch. He mumbled something at it, cursing under his breath, then remembered where he was headed and let the huge grin come back over his face as he headed for the bathroom.
