The morning light crept softly through the translucent curtains, painting delicate patterns on the polished wood floor. A faint hum of the coffee maker filled the air, rich with the promise of warmth and wakefulness. I stretched languidly against the plush fortress of goose-down pillows, my limbs unfolding like slow waves brushing against a calm shore.
Instinctively, my hand drifted across the cool sheets to where Elijah’s warmth should have lingered, a familiar habit that had become a small ritual of reassurance. The sheets, however, felt untouched, a subtle chill where his presence usually radiated.
He must have slipped out early, seizing the morning hours for work as he always did. Elijah’s relentless drive was something I both admired and envied — the way he embraced dawn with open arms, determined never to let opportunity slip through his fingers. That ambition had carried him through his MBA and landed him a coveted marketing position with the Seahawks, a testament to his relentless pursuit of excellence.
I shifted my gaze to the bedside table, my phone’s screen glowing softly. Only eight in the morning. Far earlier than my usual slow crawl from bed, but the scent of coffee and the quiet house pulled me gently into the day.
I was more the ‘sleep until the universe demands otherwise’ type, a fact that often sparked a playful tug-of-war with Elijah’s early riser tendencies. Pulling the duvet off, a shiver traced its path over my skin as the cool air nipped at me, tightening my nipples in a stark contrast to the warmth just moments ago.
Wrapping myself in Elijah’s oversized bathrobe — the fabric thick and comforting around my shoulders — I padded barefoot toward the kitchen, drawn by the promise of caffeine and the sound of his voice.
“Hey, beautiful,” he greeted me, his voice a familiar melody as he poured coffee into a steaming mug. His bare chest caught the morning light, muscles flexing subtly with each movement, a sight that never failed to captivate me.
“Sleep well?” he asked, eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and affection.
“Like a rock,” I responded, a yawn escaping that made him grin knowingly.
He reached for the creamer, the soft glow casting shadows that highlighted the contours of his abdomen. I watched as the ritual of morning unfolded — the simple act of adding cream and sugar to my coffee, a small indulgence I insisted on despite his teasing attempts to curb my sweet tooth.
“What’s on your agenda today?” he inquired, eyes flicking up to meet mine.
I hesitated, unprepared for the sudden inquiry. “I was hoping we’d get to spend some time together today,” I admitted, my voice quieter than intended. “What about you?”
“Grady invited me on a hike this morning. You remember, right?” he said casually.
I took a sip, the sugary sweetness a balm against the early chill. “Must have slipped my mind.”
“See, this is why we need a shared calendar,” Elijah shook his head with a chuckle, the affection in his tone unmistakable.
Planning was my refuge, a fortress built against the chaos lurking in my memories. Keeping track of dates and commitments was a way to keep the shadows at bay, to maintain control over a world that sometimes felt too unpredictable.
“Grady and I should be done by eleven,” Elijah continued, finishing his own coffee black, as always. “I would’ve asked you to come, but you know this kind of thing isn’t really your thing.”
“Hiking in the cold drizzle? No thanks,” I teased, sticking out my tongue. “You know me too well.”
It wasn’t that I disliked the outdoors — quite the opposite. But the constant, damp Northwest rain that soaked through layers and chilled to the bone was a whole different story. I preferred warmth, comfort — like the kind we shared the night before.
“What about dinner tonight?” Elijah asked, sliding into one of the chrome chairs at our sleek kitchen table.
“Sounds good. Maybe we could cook together? I’ll wear that lace thing you like,” I offered, a playful glint in my eye.
He returned my grin, stealing a glance at the bare leg peeking from beneath his robe. “Definitely better than going out.”
He was the life of any party, while I was content with quiet nights. Somehow, we balanced each other perfectly — his outgoing charm grounding my guarded nature, my calm steadying his restless energy.
That black lace teddy he’d brought me from Dallas last year was more than just lingerie — it was a secret weapon, a playful reminder of our intimacy. It hugged my curves tightly, almost begging for rebellion, though it rarely stayed on for long.
“When do you head out for your hike?” I asked, curiosity tinged with a hint of wistfulness.
“In about an hour,” he replied, folding his hands on the table, the bronze tone of his skin glowing warmly in the morning light.
I studied him, appreciating the rare vulnerability in the moment — Elijah, confident and composed, but in this quiet intimacy, just a man whose presence I cherished.
“What?” he teased, catching my lingering gaze.
“Just admiring the view,” I murmured, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
Elijah rose, abandoning his coffee to lean over and capture my lips in a slow, lingering kiss. I let my eyelids flutter closed, savoring the warmth and the familiar taste of him.
“I’m going to shower,” he said softly, breaking away reluctantly. “Want to join me?”
“Only if I’m allowed to be a little naughty,” I quipped, hiding a satisfied smirk behind my mug.
He laughed, the sound deep and full of affection. “You’re perfect,” he sighed, gathering me into his arms with ease.
Cradled against his chest, I felt the steady thrum of his heart beneath my cheek as we stumbled toward the bathroom, laughter filling the small space when we knocked our heads on the doorframe.
He set me gently on the cool granite countertop beside the double sinks, and I wrapped my legs around him instinctively.
Peeling back his robe, Elijah’s hands traced familiar paths along my curves, igniting sparks that danced beneath my skin.
“God, Isla,” he breathed against my neck, his voice low and husky, sending shivers through me. “You’re incredible.”
Running had been my sanctuary since high school, a way to outrun the ghosts and soothe the ache beneath my ribs. It had sculpted the body Elijah adored, a blend of strength and softness he never hesitated to admire.
His lips found my breast, teasing and worshiping, eliciting a gasp as he captured my nipple between tongue and teeth, his touch both demanding and tender.
I shuddered, pressing closer, the familiar heat pooling deep within me. The tension between us thickened, a delicious ache that made the world narrow to the space we occupied.
“If I’m not careful, I’m going to be late for Grady,” Elijah murmured against my shoulder, his breath hot and teasing.
We paused, caught between desire and obligation, the morning slipping away in a haze of intimacy and whispered promises.
“Go,” I said softly, brushing my fingers through his damp hair. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
He smiled, a mixture of longing and determination, and with a final, lingering kiss, he slipped into the shower, leaving me wrapped in warmth and the quiet hum of a day just beginning.