Same Time Next Week (Ch 24)
As always, if you need to catch up, drop back to the INDEX for Same Time Next Week.
Enjoy this chapter, however please know it is NSFW. I look forward to thoughts!
Jackson wakes up to the delight of finding Shelby in his kitchen, effortlessly beautiful in his T-shirt and nothing else. Jackson enjoys the intimate connection they've built, though he senses something is bothering Shelby.
He hadn't remembered her sleeping next to him. Not that he would have remembered much the way he passed out, but he usually showed a date the door after sex. The kicking and tossing and turning and snoring and insisting on laying all over him woke him up or kept him from sleeping.
Bacon. Coffee. Toast?
Jackson sat up, still half asleep but curious about the smell of food wafting through the room. A glance around the bed, at his jeans and her jeans and a lacy thong at the foot of the bed jogged his memory and he smiled.
They'd left her car at Antigua, so Shelby was still there. She must have decided to make breakfast. You know, to thank him for all the amazing sex.
Hell if he had a problem with that.
He hadn't remembered her sleeping next to him. Not that he would have remembered much the way he passed out, but he usually showed a date the door after sex. The kicking and tossing and turning and snoring and insisting on laying all over him woke him up or kept him from sleeping.
It didn't mean he didn't have a good time. It didn't mean he didn't cherish the time spent with whatever her name was. It meant that his sleep was important to him. He didn't like it messed with. So… out they went.
Jackson wondered what she was wearing, since he was picking her jeans up off the floor with his own and tossing them across the foot of the unmade bed. He stumbled to his closet and pulled open a drawer, grabbing a shirt and pair of sweat pants and pulling them on.
The scent of coffee was strong as he made his way down the stairs, tantalizing with the scent of food alongside it. He rubbed his belly in anticipation and walked down the hall toward the kitchen, stopping to lean against the entryway and watch her.
There was food on plates on the counter and a nearly full carafe of coffee. Shelby was at the sink, washing the pots and pans she had used. He watched her shapely form, her hair wavy from sweat and sleep, her long brown legs and tiny feet moving around the kitchen in his Moby T-shirt and nothing else.
"Just so you know, you're always welcome," he finally said.