said.
“So do you.”
Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened. She reached behind him, snatched up a pillow, and smacked him on the head with it. “I do not snore!”
He laughed again, his eyes still closed. “You don’t snore. But you do talk in your sleep.”
That was true. She’d been told that before.
“Well, at least it’s soft, delicate mumbling instead of an annoyingly loud bear-like snore.”
He lazily opened one eye. “Annoying? You slept like a baby. Didn’t seem to bother you.”
“That’s because I was exhausted from all your…uh, sexing. I fell right into a coma.”
“I can work with that.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll just exhaust you every night and you won’t notice my annoying snore.”
“Hmm.” She placed a finger by her mouth as if she was thinking. “I think I could live with that plan.”
“Good. Sexing you into exhaustion. Great plan. Glad I thought of it.” He reached for her and pulled her close to him, his bare chest against her bare back.
“So, tell me what’s going on with the Academy.”
“Well, Francesca and I are going to invest money into it and get it renovated. It needs some major work and new equipment. It was part of the deal we made to get this new fighter that Francesca was able to scout, Antonio Marino.”
“Sounds exciting.” She rolled over to face him.
“Yeah, and once we’re done with the renovations, we’re gonna throw a big grand reopening. Maybe in a couple of months.”
“How can I help?” She kissed his neck, then moved up to his stubbly face, her hands roaming his back.
“Oh, baby. That feels so good,” he said as his free hand moved up and down her back. “This is all the help I need. Keep doing exactly that.”
She laughed and playfully smacked his chest. “Seriously, I can help. I’m good with a hammer or party planning. Either way.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He rolled to his back and stretched. “What time is it?”
Jessica looked over her shoulder to the alarm clock by the bedside table. “A quarter to eleven.”
Slade stopped mid-stretch and bolted up. “What?” He leaned over her to look at the clock. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Gotta go, babe. Frances is goin’ to kill me.” He jumped off the bed and gathered his clothes off the floor. “The agent for Tony, our new fighter, is coming in to work out the final details. We’re supposed to sign the contract. I think there’s even going to be a small press conference.” She giggled as she watched him struggle to find his clothes. “Seriously, where the hell’s my underwear?”
“Try the living room.”
“How the fuck are my jeans here and my underwear in the living room?”
She shrugged. He walked out of the room mumbling something about being late, Francesca, and ass-kicking. He returned, still completely naked, but with all his clothes in his arms, and dumped them on the bed before going into the bathroom. Less than ten minutes later he was out, his dark hair slicked back behind his ears, his face still moist from the quick shower and his eyes less sleepy-looking. Jessica lay on the bed, her head resting on her palm, watching him try to get dressed while dialing his phone.
“It’s me, Frances…yeah…okay, okay…I know. On my way.” He hung up, then stuck an arm into the sleeve of his shirt. “Shit, my shirt is fucked up.”
She sat up to see that the shirt was missing most of its buttons. She chuckled before plopping back down. “Sorry.”
“You’re not sorry.” He smiled, his tattoo peeking out from the unbuttoned shirt. “I have my gym bag in the car and there’s a shirt inside, I’ll just change on my way.”
He leaned over the bed and tucked some hair behind her ear. “By the way, I used your toothbrush.” He kissed her forehead.
She closed her eyes and smiled.
“You’re quiet this morning. You probably said everything you needed to say in your annoying sleep talking.”
“Ha. Ha.”
“Gotta run. Sorry for the quick
“So do you.”
Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened. She reached behind him, snatched up a pillow, and smacked him on the head with it. “I do not snore!”
He laughed again, his eyes still closed. “You don’t snore. But you do talk in your sleep.”
That was true. She’d been told that before.
“Well, at least it’s soft, delicate mumbling instead of an annoyingly loud bear-like snore.”
He lazily opened one eye. “Annoying? You slept like a baby. Didn’t seem to bother you.”
“That’s because I was exhausted from all your…uh, sexing. I fell right into a coma.”
“I can work with that.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll just exhaust you every night and you won’t notice my annoying snore.”
“Hmm.” She placed a finger by her mouth as if she was thinking. “I think I could live with that plan.”
“Good. Sexing you into exhaustion. Great plan. Glad I thought of it.” He reached for her and pulled her close to him, his bare chest against her bare back.
“So, tell me what’s going on with the Academy.”
“Well, Francesca and I are going to invest money into it and get it renovated. It needs some major work and new equipment. It was part of the deal we made to get this new fighter that Francesca was able to scout, Antonio Marino.”
“Sounds exciting.” She rolled over to face him.
“Yeah, and once we’re done with the renovations, we’re gonna throw a big grand reopening. Maybe in a couple of months.”
“How can I help?” She kissed his neck, then moved up to his stubbly face, her hands roaming his back.
“Oh, baby. That feels so good,” he said as his free hand moved up and down her back. “This is all the help I need. Keep doing exactly that.”
She laughed and playfully smacked his chest. “Seriously, I can help. I’m good with a hammer or party planning. Either way.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He rolled to his back and stretched. “What time is it?”
Jessica looked over her shoulder to the alarm clock by the bedside table. “A quarter to eleven.”
Slade stopped mid-stretch and bolted up. “What?” He leaned over her to look at the clock. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Gotta go, babe. Frances is goin’ to kill me.” He jumped off the bed and gathered his clothes off the floor. “The agent for Tony, our new fighter, is coming in to work out the final details. We’re supposed to sign the contract. I think there’s even going to be a small press conference.” She giggled as she watched him struggle to find his clothes. “Seriously, where the hell’s my underwear?”
“Try the living room.”
“How the fuck are my jeans here and my underwear in the living room?”
She shrugged. He walked out of the room mumbling something about being late, Francesca, and ass-kicking. He returned, still completely naked, but with all his clothes in his arms, and dumped them on the bed before going into the bathroom. Less than ten minutes later he was out, his dark hair slicked back behind his ears, his face still moist from the quick shower and his eyes less sleepy-looking. Jessica lay on the bed, her head resting on her palm, watching him try to get dressed while dialing his phone.
“It’s me, Frances…yeah…okay, okay…I know. On my way.” He hung up, then stuck an arm into the sleeve of his shirt. “Shit, my shirt is fucked up.”
She sat up to see that the shirt was missing most of its buttons. She chuckled before plopping back down. “Sorry.”
“You’re not sorry.” He smiled, his tattoo peeking out from the unbuttoned shirt. “I have my gym bag in the car and there’s a shirt inside, I’ll just change on my way.”
He leaned over the bed and tucked some hair behind her ear. “By the way, I used your toothbrush.” He kissed her forehead.
She closed her eyes and smiled.
“You’re quiet this morning. You probably said everything you needed to say in your annoying sleep talking.”
“Ha. Ha.”
“Gotta run. Sorry for the quick
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