The Sleepy and the Restless

        The sound of keys sliding into the cylindrical lock, turning it back with a click, rent the air. The door swung open and she stepped in, heels thudding on the wooden floor in the foyer, bags rustling as she wrestled the key from the lock.
         “Hey babe!? Can I get some help with these bags?” She called out, but only silence responded.
         With an agitated huff, as she could only assume he was out, she was forced to leave the door open as she went to go set the bags down on the couch in the living room because the door would not free the keys. Laying the bags down and returning to shut and lock the door, she placed the keys in the bowl on the sofa table that rested near the door and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror that hung above the sofa table.
         She looked a mess! Her hair no longer rested in the clip in the back of her head, but was now all over her head and face in a wavy mass of brown chaos. Her glasses were slightly crooked, her lipstick was mostly gone except some of the color still stained her lips. The beige suit she’d worn that day was now wrinkled, wet and stained.
         Heaving a huge sigh, she shook her head and turned from the mirror. Melissa Gringott was a twenty-nine year old consultant for whatever business her office decided to assign her to. The day had not gone well for her. She slipped of her black heels as she headed toward her bedroom, padding across the floor in her stockings.
         Melissa had been yelled at by both the client and her boss about a financial decision she had advised against, then consequently had to be a make shift baby sitter for said client as their child ran her ragged and at some point in the day had managed to spill coffee on her. Then, after her brief stop at the store to pick up the things Misha had asked her to get should she have the time, she got splashed by a car driving into a puddle created by the rain the day before.
         Needless to say, her car ride home had been very uncomfortable. Slumping into the room, Melissa tossed her heels on the floor and went straight for the bathroom to take a shower, not even taking the time to turn on the bedroom light. Stripping off everything after turning the shower water on hot, Melissa couldn’t help the grumbles she’d had to suppress during the day finally finding release in the comfort of her home.
         Lastly, laying her glasses on the sink and removing the clip that had failed to hold her hair, Melissa happily slipped into the shower. The hot water relaxing tensed muscles and laying her mass of hair down. Melissa’s mind drifted as she let the water work its magic freeing her of any and all left over stress even if it was only a momentary reprieve.
         While in the shower Melissa washed her hair, the suds bringing another wave of relaxation. Smiling at the fact that she was suddenly reminded of the time Misha had washed her hair for her and how that had brought her a mix of relaxed and tensed muscles, Melissa rinsed the shampoo out. Melissa stayed in the shower until the water turned cold, then she stayed in for a few more minutes before the cold began to agitate her again.
         Stepping onto the soft carpet and wrapping a plush towel around herself, Melissa slipped her glasses back on her face and felt a stab of pride at the way her towel matched her rug and both matched with the tan theme running throughout her bathroom.
         Not too long ago Melissa wouldn’t have felt that way because it wouldn’t have looked anything like this, but then Misha had stepped into her life and now she found herself in a house she loved. Before Misha, she hadn’t had the time or the inclination to make the time for such trivial pursuits, however, now she made it a point to make free time for him and the things she had always wanted to do.
         Blow drying her hair, Melissa was met with her smiling self in the reflection of the mirror. Humming to herself as she went along Melissa thought of how different her life was with Misha in it. He made her happy in such a soul deep way, because she knew without a shadow of a doubt that the man loved her. He did his best to keep her happy, but cared enough to slow her down when she would tire herself out over her job.
         He helped her, protected her, and most importantly accepted her for who she was and what she’d been through. He’d made her house a home. Melissa wiped off her make-up, brushed out her now dry hair and finished her bathroom routine before exiting to grab some underwear from her dresser, light blue with brown polka dots and a blue ribbon in the center, Misha’s favorite.
         The thought struck her that this might have been the first time Misha hadn’t been around when she needed him. He usually had an uncanny ability to appear whenever she was having a rough time, that he hadn’t showed up today, perplexed and concerned her a little bit. She needed to call him to make sure he was okay.
         About to head back into living room to get her cell from her purse on the couch with the rest of the bags when she suddenly heard the rustle of flesh against sheets. Spinning around, Melissa was startled but the sight she saw. Misha lay on the bed but she had been mistaken earlier, there were no sheets on the bed, just the bed cover that went before the sheets.
         Yet that wasn’t the strange thing about what she saw. But the way Misha was dressed…now that was strange. The man had his legs dangling off the edge of the bed, his jeans mostly on the floor except on side was still hanging on his foot. The white underwear he wore matching the bed cover. His abs and chest were in full display, apparently, Misha had been too tired to take off any of his clothes completely. His shirt was pulled up all the way over his head and remained on his arms. He’d decided to use it as a shade from the sun so his shirt covered his eyes, his arms splayed haphazardly around his head.
         Melissa would have busted out laughing at the picture he presented but she didn’t want to wake him up. Padding over to the bed, panties on but towel still wrapped around her she kneeled on the bed, head cocked to the side as she stared down at him. Lightly, Melissa traced her finger down his neck, over his chest. Then she let her hand play over his stomach, caressing each ridge and dip.
         Slowly she continued to slide down his beautiful body, her tongue darting out to swipe across her upper lip, until she reached the edge of his underwear. Then, she pulled her bottom lip into her teeth, tugging on it, torn. She wanted to let him rest but he looked so tasty like that, so adorable. Melissa was left with a debate playing out in her mind as she fiddled with the line of his briefs.
         Sighing, she sat back on her heels at the edge of the bed glaring down at him for daring to be tired and look sexy at the same time. Pushing her hair out of her face, as it had fallen in her explorations; she looked around now at a loss for what she should do. Deciding that getting redressed was her best course of action, Melissa put a foot on the floor with the intention of grabbing some sweat pants and one of Misha’s work shirts when suddenly there was a strong arm wrapped around her waist.
         Letting out a surprised yelp, Melissa was yanked back onto the bed and under a very attractive male body as Misha leaned over her, hands on either side of her head and knees next to her hips. She heard a soft thud as his jeans let go of his foot and lay fully on the floor. Glancing up, Melissa saw that his shirt was still wrapped round his left hand.
         “Going somewhere, Mashenka?” Misha uttered in his lightly accented voice. At hearing it Melissa felt a shiver run down her spine and goose bumps cover her arms
         “You know I love it when you speak Russian.” Reaching up, Melissa stroked his lightly bearded face, loving the feel of it on her fingertips. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
         A deep rumble of laughter left Misha as he pressed he face into her touch. “No man could have remained asleep with such a gorgeous woman having her naughty little way with him.”
         “I was not having my way with you.” Melissa exclaimed in mock insult, moving her hand to trace his lips, to which he responded by kissing the small pads before pulling her index finger into his mouth and sucking on it lightly.
         “Then what would you call it, MIlaya moyA?” My sweet. He said as he pulled her finger from his mouth to nibble on it lightly.
         “A form of exploration, maybe? Or memorization through touch?” She used her other hand to pet his chest, loving the feel of him.
         “Am I going somewhere that requires you to memorize me, baby?” He stopped his nibbles to stare deep into her eyes, bright brown eyes locking with her sea green ones.
         “How should I know? You might wake up one day and realized that I am way too much to handle. All stressy and agitating.” She had a sneaking suspicion that he was laughing at her.
         “Stressy? I’m pretty sure that’s not even a word.” He was definitely laughing at her; it was dancing through those swirling brown eyes.
         “So? I like the way it sounds” She smacked him in the chest, “besides, you’re avoiding the issue.”
         “All those years in college, all that work experience under your belt, and you make up words like ‘stressy’?” His body shook the bed as he laughed openly.
         No longer able to resist and with the swell of her heart, Melissa pulled Misha’s face down for a deep hungry kiss. Melissa felt Misha pause as if startled by her sudden action, but his hesitation didn’t last long and Melissa let out a deep moan as Misha took over the kiss demanding she open up for him.
         His right leg moved and suddenly his knee was in between her legs, pressing against her with a surety she loved. Misha groaned as Melissa’s hands slid underneath his briefs and her nails dragged over his ass.
         Letting Melissa up for air, Misha reached down and removed her glasses, setting them safely on the nightstand. Once he’d set the glasses down and turned his attention back to her, Melissa rolled them so that she was on top, knowing full well that Misha had let her flip them. If he’d been in one of his rare moods to be a sexual bully, he’d have made them stay in the position of his choosing.
         Sitting on Misha, hands resting on his chest, with huge smile on her face, Melissa pushed her hair back from her face once again. She preferred the shoulder length mass in a ponytail or a clip, but Misha seemed to like it better down and long. Or she might have had it cut by a few inches, as it stood now, Melissa tried to leave it down as often as possible, if for no other reason than giving Misha the ability to run his fingers through it whenever he wanted.
         And he did so now, reaching up to tug on one of the brown semi-straight locks. Bringing it down to his lips, and her with it, he placed a kiss on the strand imitating a scene from one of their late night movie marathons. Melissa couldn’t help her burst of laughter just before she leaned down to take another kiss.