"Hey, get up." Shaun prodded my shoulder, practically bouncing out of bed like a kid on Christmas. "It's Super Bowl Sunday; we gotta work!"
Groaning, I rolled over to glance at the alarm clock. It read 11:42 a.m. We were scheduled to work at three; the game didn't even start until 6:30. Flinging an arm over my eyes to block out the light, I groaned again.
"Come on. Get that fine ass of yours out of bed. Let's go." Shaun's tone was teasing but managed to hold enough authority to remind me although we were sleeping together, he was still my boss. Considering he'd been the one to keep me up all hours of the night with his lusty demands, it was the least he could do to let me sleep a little longer.
"Come on," he asserted, tugging the blankets and sheets off of me, exposing my very naked body to a chilly bedroom. Scowling darkly, I tried to steal them back. "You know, before we started sleeping together, I totally had you pegged for a morning person. I guess now I know the truth." Shaun laughed, and leaning over me, pinched my cold nipple.
"I don't have to be a morning person," I growled, grasping his wrist and pulling him down on top of me. "I'm a bartender!" Shaun's body was warm; I burrowed under his weight, taking advantage of the cover provided by his large chest. "Mmm... you're like a blanket."
Shaun's deep rumble of laughter was a purr in my ear. Nibbling gently he worked down the curve of my neck, kissing a path to my shoulder. It was my turn to purr.
"Oh, no," he laughed, rolling off of me and giving my hip a playful slap. "You're not sidetracking me. It's Super Bowl: biggest day of the year for the bar. Get up!"
I flashed him my sexiest pout and batted my eyelashes. "Come to bed?"
Torn between a threatening scowl and a broad grin, Shaun tossed his t-shirt at me. "Cover those damn things up," he laughed, motioning at my breasts. "They distract the hell out of me."
"Stupid Super Bowl," I joked, pulling his extra-large t-shirt over my head; it went down to my knees and smelled wonderfully of Shaun. "Why can't you like hockey like every other good Canadian boy?"
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." Shaun yelled from the bathroom. "No woman of mine is going to bad-mouth football."
Laughing, I joined Shaun at the sink, and reaching for my toothbrush I deliberately let my breasts brush his arm. Shaun tried to look mad, but the distinct bulge in his boxers gave him away.
"Stop that," he snapped, following my sardonic gaze downward. "Just ignore it, and it'll go away."
"Fat chance," I quipped through a mouthful of toothpaste. "Hard to ignore something as big as that."
Shaun chuckled, gave my ass a slap and turned to leave me to my morning routine. "You look fuckin' hot in my t-shirt," he shot back over his shoulder.
Grinning, I closed the door in his face.
I like my showers nice and hot; the more steam, the better. I also like a long shower, and at least ten minutes into it I heard the bathroom door open and close. Humming softly, I reached for the shampoo and began to lather up my shoulder-length brown hair. I almost laughed when I heard the slide of the shower curtain and felt the cold blast of air that announced Shaun's arrival.
"Damn," he whispered, whistling long and low before running his hands from my wet breasts to my wet hips.
I stepped out of his grasp and back under the direct spray of the shower to rinse my hair clean. I opened my eyes to see Shaun smiling sexily and sporting one hell of an erection.