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Sharp winter sunshine spilled through the undressed windows and across my face. I grimaced and turned over in bed, and in spite of the heat in the room, I snuggled closer to the body pressed against me. I smiled when I felt an arm slide around my waist and settle at the base of my spine.
"Curtains." My voice was muffled, my face tucked into the place where his neck met his shoulder.
"Hmm?" He rubbed his cheek against the top of my head, the movement slow and languid, like a lazy cat.
"Curtains," I repeated. "You need to get curtains on that window."
"Okay." His hand dipped, cupped my buttock and massaged lightly.
I pressed into the touch. "You say that every time, and yet, still no curtains."
"So buy some."
I slapped at his arm, but it became more of a caress on his tight bicep. "You say that every time too."
"And yet, still no curtains." I heard the smile in his voice and couldn't resist pinching his arm. He responded with a light slap to my rear.
"What time is it?" I asked, my hand resuming the stroking movement on his arm.
He raised his head briefly before letting it fall back onto the pillow. "Just after nine." He sighed regretfully. "We need to get up soon."
I smiled and slipped a hand between our bodies, wrapping my fingers around his morning hard-on, eliciting a rather satisfying gasp from him. "Feels like you're already halfway there."
He laughed throatily. "Hussy!"