Sweet Interlude

The rose petal-scented sheets and a Karen's soft, full breasts were a pleasant place to nap. Michael rarely seemed so peaceful, even in his sleep. Life was always hectic and he loved it that way. He worked without a guaranteed income. He impregnated four women in the span of a month. He negotiated trade agreements at an international level. He accompanied his brother on offworld missions. He fought in gladiatorial arenas. Hewas no flaneur.

Karen watched him softly breathing. It was rare to catch him so quiet and still. He worked hard, played hard and lived hard. Even in his sleep, he usually seemed a moment away from springing into action. Sex seemed the only way Karen knew to slow down his frenetic pace for any period of time. She kissed his forehead. He fidgeted and rolled over, his brow furrowing as if thinking. Cautiously, she cuddled up against his warm back. His eyelids fluttered. She held as still as she could manage. Michael's hand subconsciously reached for his inner jacket pocket. He awoke when his hand hit bare skin. He murmured something and his eyes opened. “How long have I been asleep?” he asked, rubbing his face.

“Only fifteen minutes,” she whispered, trying to soothe him back into blissful sleep.

“Then, I should be going.” He spoke plainly. No urgency or callous tones to the remark.

In the space of time it took her to voice her objections, he was halfway dressed. He smiled at her warmly as he pulled on his slacks. When she held onto his tie, he kissed her forehead and left without it.