Gold Rush

The Messages

04.32am

-2 unread messages -

Jack squinted with one eye painfully peeping at the bright iPhone screen. He'd woken up slightly disorientated, before realising he was surrounded by her. Her smell. Her presence. Her room. He'd located his phone after slapping a single palm heavily onto the bedside table next to him.

He was unsure when exactly they came to bed, his blurry memories from just a few hours earlier were already clouding over as a result of the cheap wine. Sophie was sleeping soundly beside him, laying on her side with her knees pulled right up. She breathed heavily, quietly.

His phone flashed again, reminding him of the unread messages.

Jen - Hey Jacky... I miss us.
Jen - I remember our good times x

What the fuck does Jen want?
What is she playing it?
The anger in him began to rise.
He's really, really trying here, trying to be disciplined and to not let a good one get away. Not this time. Not this one.

Swiping away the messages from his ex, he put his phone on aeroplane mode and threw it down on the floor with a frustrated grunt.

He shuffled his body over to Sophie and pulled her in close, his arm resting heavily in the soft dip between her ribs and hips.
Still in the grip of sleep, she hummed appreciatively in response to Jack's movements and nuzzled her face into his lightly hairy chest. Their legs entwined as Jack pushed his right thigh in between hers, making her lazily hang her leg over him.

For now, the devil on his shoulder decided to rest.
He felt safe and settled.
His eyes now growing heavy again, he planted soft kisses on the crown of Sophie's head and drifted back off to sleep.

—

09.30am

The not-so-forgiving chimes of Sophie's phone demanded her attention from the living room where it was plugged in. Ignoring it, she mentally cursed herself for feeling so fragile this morning.

Why, oh why did she sink copious amounts of that shitty, awful wine?

Flashbacks of dancing and singing with Jack around her postage stamp sized flat sprung to the forefront of her mind, it was a lovely, fuzzy, silly night. Neither of them had a care in the world. She loved that he had that side to him and she privately willed herself to 'be more Jack'.

She'd got up earlier and left Jack soundly sleeping, reluctant to disturb him on his day off. So far, she had just about mustered enough energy to shower, moisturise her dehydrated skin and run a brush through her hangover hair.
Nursing a cup of Tetley's, Sophie checked her phone, remembering the earlier chimes.

-2 missed calls-
Unknown Number (2)

The familiar rise of anxiety began to sprout from the pit of her stomach.
Deep breaths.
It could have been anyone. Anyone.
She cradled the hot mug in her hand, concentrating on the warmth encasing her fingers and palms.
Eventually, those uneasy feelings settled down and Sophie padded back into her bedroom. She swallowed down her anxiety and those intrusive thoughts eradicated as soon as she laid eyes on Jack. Finding him situated exactly where she left him just under an hour ago.. with his lengthy limbs spread out as far as physically possible and his modesty unfortunately contained by snug black Calvin's.

She placed down the mug of tea next to the bed and sat crossed legged beside him, slowly and lightly brushing her hands across his cheeks and stubble. His body radiated that kind of heat you get from being in a snug, cosy bed. She felt it, the strong internal pull to climb back under the sheets with Jack and just forget the world.

His hands twitched and long eyelashes began to flicker. He was waking up. Those butterflies making themselves known to Sophie once again, whirling throughout her abdomen.
He rubbed at his sleepy, slightly dewy eyes. A big smile spread across his face when he realised she was beside him.
'Mornin' bab' he croaked.

God.
Who wakes up looking so heavenly?!

'Morning Jack' she smiled down at him and continued to stroke his cheeks, eyeing those generously scattered freckles dotted across his nose and cheeks.

'Ya obsessed wi' them aren't ya? Freckles?'

Sophie tapped the tip of his nose, 'only on you, bab' she mocked.

'Cheeky' He spoke deeply and extended one arm out, inviting her to nestle into his armpit. Sophie accepted, lowering herself into the space and settling on on her side, she slowly ran her fingers across his chest. The mixture of smells made him absolutely and completely unbearable. Those pheromones and remains of aftershave mixed with morning sweat made her body respond to him, without him even trying.

'How're you feeling? Rough?' Sophie questioned him, pushing down the sheer need to just climb the man like a tree.

'Naaah' he shook his head, 'I'll be fine, jus' get me some good grub and a shower, you ok?'

She grinned, ignoring his reply.
Her focus now on his huge. morning. greeting.
Jack followed her eyes down his body and laughed, blushing slightly at the image of himself harshly straining against his underwear, so very desperate to escape.

'Sorry bab, I wasn't presuming anythin', it just fuckin' decides to come alive in the mornin' for some reason'

She wasn't listening.

'Don't you dare apologise for that, Grealish'
One hand reached down his waistband and released him. Jack slowly reached his arms up over him, clasping his hands around the back of his head.

Sophie was zoning out and holding his already throbbing dick, absolutely ready to savour each and every inch of him. As she shuffled herself down the bed she could hear him gruffly muttering something along the lines of 'knowing she was in a filthy mood when she uses his surname'.

What a way to cure a sore head.