Morning After

You stay in bed for another minute after Kelly leaves, still processing the fact that she snuck into your room, gave you one hell of a wake-up call, and then casually walked out because she wanted coffee. Apparently, that’s just something that happens in your life now.

Eventually, you reach over and grab your phone from the nightstand, finally getting the answer Kelly wouldn’t give you earlier. It’s late enough that you should probably get your ass out of bed, so you toss your phone aside, push the covers away, and sit up.

After stretching for a second, you stand and grab some clean clothes before heading toward the bathroom. A hot shower does a decent job of making you feel like a normal person again. You wash up, brush your teeth, fix your hair, and get dressed, and by the time you’re finished, the tiredness from last night has mostly disappeared.

You head back into your room, grab your phone, and slip it into your pocket before heading downstairs. The smell of coffee reaches you before you make it to the kitchen, and when you walk in, Kelly is standing at the counter with her back to you.

Apparently she changed after leaving your room. Her loose hair falls down her back, still slightly messy from the morning. She’s wearing an oversized cropped T-shirt that hangs loosely around her upper body and stops high enough to leave most of her stomach exposed. There’s no bra underneath it, something she makes especially obvious when she reaches into a cabinet and the loose shirt shifts against her chest.

Then there are the shorts, if you can even call them that. They’re tiny, soft sleep shorts sitting high around her hips and barely covering her ass. The bottoms of her cheeks peek out beneath them whenever she moves, and the thin material hugs the rest of her curves closely enough that you immediately understand why you’re having trouble looking anywhere else.

Without turning around, Kelly reaches for her coffee and glances at you over her shoulder.

“Morning,” Kelly says.

“You seem awfully innocent all of a sudden,” you reply.

“I’m making coffee,” Kelly says. “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing. You already did plenty.”

She laughs and takes another sip. “You’re welcome, Sweetie,” Kelly says.

You walk farther into the kitchen and reach for a mug beside the coffee maker. As you pass behind her, your eyes drop toward the tiny shorts again. She catches the look almost immediately.

“See something you like?” Kelly asks.

“You know I do.”

“I do,” Kelly replies, sounding entirely too pleased about it.

She turns toward you and leans her hip against the counter. The movement makes the loose shirt fall differently across her chest, and your eyes briefly drop before returning to her face.

“Eyes are up here,” Kelly says.

“You wore that shirt on purpose.”

“Maybe I didn’t feel like wearing a bra,” Kelly replies.

“Convenient.”

“For you, apparently,” Kelly says with a grin.

You pour yourself some coffee while she goes back to making breakfast. For about thirty seconds, everything is surprisingly normal until Kelly opens one of the lower cabinets and bends over directly in front of you.

Your eyes immediately drop. Her shorts ride farther up as she searches through the cabinet, exposing even more of her ass. She shifts her weight slightly from one leg to the other while she’s bent over, making it extremely difficult to believe she isn’t aware of exactly what she’s putting in front of you.

“You find it yet?” you ask.

“Give me a second,” Kelly replies.

“You’re enjoying this.”

She finally grabs the pan and stands, looking back at you with a smile. “Maybe a little,” Kelly admits.

At least she isn’t even pretending anymore.

She turns toward the stove and starts making breakfast. A moment later, you move beside her to grab something from the counter at the same time she steps backward. Her ass brushes against your crotch, and both of you stop for a second.

“Oops,” Kelly says.

“Bullshit.”

She laughs, then deliberately backs into you again. This time she presses her ass against you for another second, giving her hips a small, playful movement before looking back over her shoulder.

“Okay, that one was on purpose,” Kelly says.

“No shit.”

You put your hand on her hip, but she slips away before you can pull her any closer.

“Breakfast first,” Kelly says.

“You’re the one starting shit.”

“I know,” Kelly replies with a grin.

She goes straight back to the stove like nothing happened.

You shake your head and take another drink of coffee while she reaches toward a cabinet above the stove. She stretches onto her toes, lifting the cropped shirt farther up her stomach. When she lowers her arm, she turns toward you and casually folds her arms beneath her chest, pushing it up beneath the loose fabric while she looks at you.

Your eyes drop again.

“Seriously?” you ask.

“What?” Kelly asks, smiling.

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“And you’re making it really easy,” Kelly replies.

She lets her arms fall and turns back toward the stove before you can say anything else.

“So is waking me up like that something I need to start expecting?” you ask.

“I wouldn’t get used to it,” Kelly replies.

“That’s disappointing.”

“You’ll survive,” Kelly says.

“Maybe.”

She looks over at you. “Besides, it’s more fun if you don’t know when I’m going to do something,” Kelly says.

“That’s slightly threatening.”

“Good,” Kelly replies with a laugh.

A few minutes later, breakfast is ready, and the two of you sit at the kitchen counter with your food and coffee. Somehow, after everything that happened upstairs and all of her teasing since you came down, the conversation becomes almost completely normal.

You talk about what you’re both doing today, and Kelly complains about a couple things she needs to get done later. You give her shit about how much coffee she drinks, and she tells you that you’re in no position to criticize anything she does after the way you were acting upstairs. You decide there isn’t really a comeback to that one.

When Kelly finishes eating, she gets up and walks behind you toward the sink. There’s plenty of room behind your chair, but she chooses not to use most of it. Her ass drags lightly across your side as she squeezes past.

You turn your head toward her.

“There was like four feet of space back there,” you say.

“Was there?” Kelly asks as she keeps walking.

“You know there was.”

“Huh,” Kelly replies. “Didn’t notice.”

You laugh while she rinses her plate. She sets it in the sink, then leans back against the counter with her coffee. Her cropped shirt has shifted slightly to one side, her loose hair is falling over one shoulder, and her tiny shorts have ridden up again.

She catches you looking and deliberately arches her back just enough to emphasize both the loose shirt across her chest and the tiny shorts around her hips.

“You’re impossible,” you say.

“You like it,” Kelly replies.

You look her over once more. “Yeah,” you admit.

She smiles over the rim of her coffee cup. “I know,” Kelly says.

There really isn’t any point pretending anymore. She likes getting a reaction out of you, you clearly like giving her one, and when the two of you are alone, she seems increasingly comfortable seeing exactly how far she can push it.

Your phone suddenly vibrates against the kitchen counter, cutting through the quiet moment between you. Both of you glance toward it as the screen lights up with a new message.

You reach for your phone.