Thanks for all the love, peeps! You sure do know how to make a girl feel special. I promise that I'll keep the notes to a minimum, but it's my first ever fanfic, so I'm like a nerd during syllabus day here. But anyways... Back to Amelia's POV. This takes a slightly more M rating than before, but nothing too extreme. If anything, it's a strong T.

I wake up to the sound of the alarm going off. Something that hasn't happened in years, actually. I love my sleep, and I'll be the first to admit that I'm not a morning person, but a typical night of sleep for me usually involves a lot of tossing and turning. Some fucking bird outside will chirp or the rain will start to come down a little harder, and I wake up. And then I'm up for good.

The independent and emotionally detached part of me wants to think that I slept so well last night because I worked twenty-six hours, and any normal person would be tired. But the other part of me, that embarrassing, hopeless romantic part, knows that it's because I was here with Owen. His warm body, his shirt, his bed... It was comforting and perfect.

I leaned back and reached my hand out to hit the alarm, because god, I could use about two more hours of sleep. I'm just so comfortable. And that noise was really starting to piss me off. Like I said, not a morning person. It wasn't until after the alarm has stopped blaring, and my eyes have fully adjusted, that I realize how much of our positioning has changed since the night had started.

Sometime during the night, I had rolled toward Owen, so that we were completely tangled up. I actually had no idea where one leg started and another ended. We were almost chest to chest, and our arms were wrapped around each other (something I happily went back to after turning the alarm off.) I noticed that my - his - shirt had ridden up to above my belly button, so that a good portion of my stomach was exposed. Oh, and my underwear were in full view. This was good.

Owen hasn't woken up yet, which means he's either a heavy sleeper or he's just as comfortable as I am. But whatever it is, I plan on using this little factoid to my full advantage. Because, let's face it: I lied last night. I didn't have to be up at seven-thirty, or even anywhere remotely close to then. I have a shift later tonight, but that doesn't mean that I don't plan on making good use of my morning. I just hope my moves are good enough to persuade him that he can afford to go in late, just this once.

I start running my fingers through his hair, because it got all messy while we were sleeping. Something that I find incredibly sexy. But then, of course, I decide to move on to bigger and better things. He doesn't have a shirt on, something I'm still counting my blessings for, so I start to trail kisses down his chest. His eyes opened at some point during this, but he seemed content to just let me do my thing. That is, of course, until my mouth got to the spot just below his belly button. Then he decided to be a more active participant.

"Good morning."

He says this in an extremely sexy, sleepy, voice. And damn, if I didn't want him before, I definitely do now.

"Morning."

He's pretty much dragging me back up to him so that we're face to face, something I won't ever complain about. I lean in to kiss him, but he hesitates for second. So I pull back, just in time to see him give me a smile that both increases my arousal and makes me feel butterflies. I'm not quite sure how that's possible, but I guess if anyone's gonna be able to do it, it might as well be Owen.

We kiss, finally, and I can't help but ruin it by smiling. I'm so happy with the way that things are progressing between us. Maybe it isn't exactly the traditional route, since we haven't even been on a real date yet, but the emotional connection we have is real. It's something you can't fake. He understands my pain and my past without me having to say all that much about it. And eventually, yeah, we'll talk about everything in detail. But for now, it's nice to be in the fun stages of a potential relationship, but also feel a deeper emotional connection.

I start to grind against him, if only because I like to hear him groan. And I'm horny as hell. So, to illustrate that particular point, I peel off my shirt. His reaction is similar to what it was the night before, when I teased him a little bit by changing in front of him. And maybe some women don't like it when men stare at their boobs, but in this particular situation, I'm thrilled. It goes a long way towards making me feel every bit as sexy and desirable as I think he is.

He kisses me again and we start to get a little bit carried away, my tongue has a mind of its own, sometimes, but then he stops. And I swear to god, if he wants to quit, I'm not above begging.

"Wait, wait. Sorry. But uh, don't you have work soon?"

"No."

I start to grind against him again, and I can tell, and feel, that he's very much in the mood, too.

"But I thought you said..."

He's actually moaning and sighing as he says this, because I'm still, shamelessly, working my magic on him. Yeah, I really want to get laid. So what?

"Owen. I told you that I needed to be up because I wanted to have as much time with you, in bed, as possible. At some point, if we ever figure out what's going on between us, I would like to tell my brother and... sister about us. But, you know, over dinner or something. Not by showing up to work in the same clothes that I wore yesterday. You're the boss, you can afford to go in a little late. So if we're done having this conversation, take your clothes off."

Okay, maybe a little blunt, and most definitely harsh. But again, I'm trying to get laid. And if that doesn't happen in the next five minutes, I'm going a lot more harsh than I was a few seconds ago.

He doesn't seem to object, however, because after smiling at me he starts to pick up the pace a little bit. His eyes visibly darken, an incredible turn-on, if I'm being honest. And then in seconds, his boxers and my underwear are off.

The bra gave him trouble, something I enjoyed laughing about, but he did eventually get it off. And there was nothing funny about all of the extra attention his mouth and hands gave my breasts once that barrier was removed. The man was gifted.

But as much as I loved everything he had been doing thus far, nothing compared to the moment he finally decided to thrust inside me. It was incredible.

When it's all said and done, and we've both reached our climax, he looks up at me. I'm still laying on top of him, and damn if it isn't the most comfortable position I've ever been in.

"That was... Amazing. You're incredible."

I'm smiling like an idiot again, and I can't resist the urge to kiss him.

"You're not so bad yourself. And the whole tall guy, big penis thing? Totally true. And very impressive."

My lack of filter is sometimes embarrassing, and I'm just about to start blushing furiously and apologizing, when he chuckles. That's a sound I could get used to.

"Yeah, uh. Thanks. I'm really glad we did this."

"Me too."

I continue to lay on top of him, content to just fall asleep again. But, of course, my stomach starts to growl. I can hear him chuckling beneath me, and I laugh too, despite my embarrassment.

"How about I try and make us some breakfast?"