The Run

My eyelids flutter as warm lips run along my jawline, stirring me from my sleep. I groan and press my head deeper into my soft pillow not ready to rub away the heaviness in my eyelids and start my day. Seth continues to move his mouth along my jaw, peppering me with tender pecks while smoothing his palm up the flat of my stomach. The rough denim of his jeans scratches at my soft skin, eliciting goosebumps all over me.

"Good morning," he utters, slipping his hand under my bunched-up shirt to squeeze my breast.

I arch against him, stretching my back as I push my arms out. A yawn creeps over me and I swipe my hair from my face. "Good morning."

Seth nuzzles into the nape of my neck and floats his fingertips up and down my torso, touching every dip, following every curve, appreciating every inch. Heat blooms all over me, and I finally open my eyes. The room is still dim, the sun muted, barely seeping around the edges of the blinds.

"What time is it?" I ask, my voice husky from sleep and his