*Three Months Later *
"Drake, c'mon! Wake up!" I yelled at him from the kitchen. I didn't get a response, signifying that he was still asleep. So after I served his food on the table, I began walking to my room.
He wasn't an early riser as we all know, but he had work, and if he wasn't up within ten minutes, then he'd be late. I opened the door to the bedroom, and saw him still sprawled out on the bed as I left him; completely naked. We had a long night last night, but it was his fault mostly. If he hadn't stayed up so late trying, but failing, to pursue, then maybe he wouldn't be so exhausted.
Carefully, I climbed on the bed and straddled his hips. He moved a little, but not too much meaning he was still asleep.
"Drake?" I hit his chest, but he stayed sleep. So I did it again, "Get up!" I tapped his cheek, and he groaned.
"Leave me be, Woman." He croaked.
I threw my head back and laughed, "Seriously, dude, you need to get up." He cracked one eye open, eyeing me playfully. "Since when do you say 'dude?'"
"Since now! Now get up! You have work!" I yelled playfully.
"Ugh, work.. I'm not in the mood for work." He rolled over, causing me to fall down beside him.
I raised an eyebrow, "Oh yeah, then what are you in the mood for?"
"Mm.. you, me, and a bed sounds pretty good.." His sig smirk surfaced on his face.
"Uh huh, I bet it does." I giggled.
"Come on.." His hands starting flowing down my body, but I popped them away. "Ha-ha, nice try. But I'm not gonna be the cause of you getting fired." I pushed myself up, and stood over him. "Now up and at em!"
I jumped off the bed, and snatched the covers off him, which revealed his semi hard cock. "Huh, you really could go for a round, huh?"
"I told you." I stood in thought for a moment before quickly snapping out of it. "No! Work is waiting, so let's get to it!"
He groaned, and rolled out of bed. "Thank you. Now go shower, and hurry up before your breakfast starts getting cold."
"Yes, Mom." He joked as he walked off into the bathroom.
Making my way back into the kitchen, I poured him some orange juice in a glass, and set it down by his breakfast. He ate weird; oatmeal, bacon, and a grape jelly toast. And if you try to make him anything different, he won't eat it, just like a little kid.
After about five minutes, he came out for breakfast and was dressed in his work clothes: a pair of black denim jeans, a white shirt, and a red flannel shirt wrapped around his waist. It was becoming fall, and the chill was coming in a little more every day.
"You made me breakfast?" He asked, sounding shocked.
"I do it every morning, yet you always have that same reaction." I said, placing his cup of orange juice in his hands, then leaning against the countertop.
"Because, I mean, me? Of all people?"
I shrugged, "Everyone deserves to eat, dork. And you gotta be gone within ten minutes, so eat up."
After finishing his cup of orange juice, he grabbed an apple, "I don't have time, because someone woke me up a little too late." He stated, his voice sounding accusing.
"Yeah, sure. That was all my fault." I rolled my eyes.
He picked up the bowl of oatmeal, smelled it, then took a scoop.
