Breathless | David Rossi

Chapter Eighteen

The feeling of the early morning sun shining through the glass windows and landing on your sleeping form stirs you. You blink the sleep away, becoming aware of your current position; arms curled around Rossi, your head resting against his chest and your legs entwined with his.

He shifts in his sleep, pulling you even closer and nuzzling into your hair. You grin, lifting your head up the pillow more to come face to face with him. You carefully retract an arm, your finger's lightly tracing his face and brushing through his hair.

You can't help but smile warmly at him, your stomach fluttering as you take in his relaxed features. His tan Italian skin glows under the sunlight, his recently dyed hair shinning as you brush it out of his face. How his dark brown eyes sparkle.

Wait.

"Morning." You were so caught up in looking at him, that you didn't even notice he woke up.

"Morning." He mumbles, removing his hand from around your body and covering your own that rests on his cheek.

You lean forward, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. He responds, tangling his hand through your hair and shifting to deepen the kiss. Pushing him back, you move to straddle his lap, your knees resting on the bed and your hands on the side of his head. You reluctantly pull away, feeling your lungs burn.

"I like this wake-up call." Rossi muses, his arms folding behind his head. You playfully roll your eyes, your hands resting on his chest. "Since we have the day off, what do you wanna do?" He asks, gazing up at you. You raise your brows in thought. "Wait, don't tell me, absolutely nothing?"

You stifle a laugh, shaking your high lightly. "Nope, because then I couldn't do this," You lean down, pressing your lips to his in a quick kiss. "Or this," You travel to his jaw, "Or this." You trail down his neck, your hand wondering down his torso. As you reach his boxers, Rossi grabs your wrist, making your frown.

"It's not that I don't want it piccolo, but you need to eat. You're running on an empty stomach and throwing up wouldn't have helped."

You slightly tense, trying to remember if you told him. JJ. You gather. Nodding, you bring your hand back up and slide off him. Your stomach grumbles at the thought of food, you'd been so preoccupied that eating was the last thing on your mind. Pulling the covers off, you get out of bed and bend down to put on one of Rossi's quarter zips.

Rossi comes up behind you, a pair of jeans on and lightly smacks your ass. You yelp in surprise, turning to catch him chuckling as he walks out of the room toward the kitchen. You grumble, following him.

Sitting at the island, you bite your lip as you watch Rossi manoeuver about his kitchen, his back muscles flexing every now and then. He places a plate of pancakes and fresh fruit in front of you and a cup of coffee. "What?" He asks.

"Nothing." You reach for strawberries, stacking them on your pancake and drizzling it with maple syrup. He raises a brow at you. "What, am I not allowed to look at how sexy you are?" Instantly Rossi's cheeks heat up, his eyes averting to the breakfast.

You can't help but chuckle at how adorable his reaction is. "Shut up." He whines, leaning his elbows on the benchtop and sorting out his plate.

Shaking your head lightly, you begin to dig into your food, your stomach thankful. You sip your coffee between every few bites, eventually finishing both. Rossi takes your empty plate and puts it in the dishwasher, as you slide off the stool and head straight for the coffee pot, pouring yourself a new cup.

Turning to lean against the bench, you bring the cup to your lips as you watch Rossi start the dishwasher and advance toward you, a glint in his eyes. He takes the mug from you, setting it on the bench and resting his hands on your waist. You narrow your eyes at him. "Now, you can finish what you started."