18 - Delilah (before)

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Four Years Ago

"Mason, you need to get off of me."

I shove the solid mass that is my half-asleep snoring boyfriend. I know he has a practice in an hour and will kick himself in the shin for not being up by now. I can hardly breathe under him and the added morning weightlifting is doing nothing to help my cause.

Well, it may be. Considering I get to look at this man naked on a daily.

He groans loudly, rolling over and throwing an arm up over his head. He's taking up every inch of the bed and he's still a morning grump. I usually fight a nightly battle with both the covers and trying to breathe under him.

Mason Jones is a severe cuddler in his sleep.

"Ten more minutes," his voice is deep and scratched like it always is in the morning. I shake my head and roll to the side, throwing the warm cocoon of covers off my body. Wearing nothing but Mason's t-shirt I go to stand, but get nowhere because his arm shoots out around my waist, pulling me back to bed.

"MASON!" I screech at the feeling of being lifted and then dropped onto a hard body. I turn, straddling his hips and sitting back on his stomach. His eyes are still closed but his mouth is turned up into a teasing smile and his hands crawl up my sides.

Looking at him in the morning light, in our bed in our very own apartment makes me a little queasy. I can't believe this boy I knew from high school who everyone loved would give me a chance. The boy with rich parents and a parade of admirers following him wherever he goes would set his heart on mine.

"I can feel you staring." He grumbles, squeezing my sides and causing a laugh to fall through my lips. He knows how ticklish I am there.

"Good," I say.

In about ten minutes he's going to get up panicked and talk to himself the entire time he gets ready, going on and on about how he needs to stop sleeping in. He'll know not to complain to me because I already did my duty in trying to wake him up.

Instead, he'll give me puppy eyes and a kiss goodbye all while cursing himself.

His hands move down my exposed legs and suddenly I'm hyper-aware of the lack of underwear I'm wearing and the lack of shirt his chest bares. We're skin to skin and If I don't get out of here, we won't for the next hour.

He was irresistible and we couldn't get enough of one another.

"Babe," I whisper.

He doesn't respond but does open his eyes, and the only warning I get before he's pushing me back playfully onto his groin is a wink and smirk. I slap his chest the second my bare self touches his strained boxers. He's hard and most definitely ready for me, and I can't say I'm too far behind him.

"You're gonna be late," I wiggle my hips over his growing erection, leaning down we both moan into each other's mouths. He throws his head back and releases my hips and I stop moving over him. I pepper kisses on his neck and cheek, avoiding his mouth for the sake of morning breath.

"Later," I whisper into his ear and scrape my teeth along his jaw.

He loves when I'm rough with my kisses, loves when I leave a mark on his neck or his chest, even on his hip. I'm sure his teammates give him shit in the locker room but he never complains, and always says he loves the reminder of me on him.

I give him one more peck on the nose and slide off of him, hearing him groan in the process. He watches me stand and his eyes drift down my legs and linger on where the old gray t-shirt cuts off just before mid-thigh.

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