Christian Parkinson's playboy lifestyle has taken an interesting turn when he met the sharp and witty Kylie Preston. She has something in her that other women lack - the guts to call him on his bullshit.
She's not the type he dates but Christian fin...
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Christian pushes the door with his elbow, holding a tray that contained brunch. He steps quietly into his bedroom, a sense of contentment and euphoria washing over him as he sees the tiny figure wearing his shirt, bathing in the sunlight that streamed in from his windows.
Kylie sits in the middle of his bed, the sheets crumpled around her. It was a beautiful mess he could really get used to. Although sometimes he had to pause for a moment and reassure himself it was real. Like this moment. It's one of their lazy Sunday mornings. His girlfriend is still in his bed because they don't feel like getting up. He woke up next to her today because she stayed over last night. And it had been wonderful. She's watching a horror film at the moment, because according to her horror movies are not scary at daytime.
As if sensing his gaze, Kylie turned away from the T.V. mounted against the wall, turning down the volume with the remote before speaking. "Finally."
"You missed me? It's been hardly an hour," he teases as he walks toward the bed and set the tray down.
"I wanted the food." She crawls toward the tray, her dark hair loose around her shoulders. "Pancake," she sighed and took one.
"You have to kiss the cook." He climbs to his side of the bed.
Kylie leans over, pecking his cheek then took a hearty bite of the pancake.
He leans against the headboard, flailing his arm to his side – his form of invitation.
Kylie scoots next to him, absently taking the invitation. She drags the tray in front of them and started forking out a strip of the omelet. She takes another this time, feeding it to him.
His mouth closed around the fork, the omelet tasting like the most wonderful thing in the world.
Kylie reaches for the remote with her toes then used her other hand when it was close enough. "What do you want to watch? I'm thinking something that just came out on Netflix."
"I thought you were watching something already."
Kylie laid the fork to the tray. "It was lame."
"Okay. Let's choose another." He takes one of the coffee mugs off the tray and drank his coffee.
Kylie flipped through movies on Netflix, nibbling on a French toast. "Oh, how about this one? I think it looks scary enough."
Christian stares at her, his chest swelling. "Sure. Anything you like, Buttercup."
Kylie lifted the tray onto the nightstand then stretches her legs, her watermelon socks matching his.
It made him smile.
She turns up the volume, engrossed with the movie and snug with his arm around her.
Christian dips his head, pressing a kiss in the back of her ear. Then another on the curve of her neck. Then another on her shoulder blade. Because, for the life of him, he couldn't stop touching her.
