Cliché

*Kris POV*

Sometimes he felt like he took her for granted.

As if waking up next to a blonde bombshell was something to be taken for granted.

He couldn’t see her face, but Kris knew she would look just as stunning as the first day he’d seen her. Perched on her teacher’s chair like an almighty throne, watching him with sultry, slanted eyes as he and a few of the guys came to visit a local third grade class. She wore a soft pink blouse, but even from across the room he could see the buttons pucker under pressure between her full breasts. Too sexy to be a school teacher. If it weren’t for the kids present, he’d have been sure he’d been staring in one of those pornos.

In an attempt to revisit the fantasies that had blown through his head when he first saw her, he slid his hand up her torso to meet the soft crease of her breast. His thumb brushed across the curving length, aching to demolish the thin t-shirt separating him from her soft skin.

He also remembered the pants she’d worn - beige, skin-toned, but loose enough to follow school codes. He’d thought she’d been half naked at first, and continued to hope that she had been. What would the circumstances had been if he’d have palmed the plump ass sitting high on her backside or brushed a hand on the sensitive inside of her thigh? Kris has always accepted his team label as ‘womanizer’, but didn’t fully understand it until then.

Continuing his ancient fantasy, his sent his hand southward, feeling the band of her thing panties before diving beneath and pressing his fingers against the sensitive flesh of her crease. He got a reaction out of that - she jerked slightly, a tiny gasp fumbling from her pillowy lips.

The lips. They’d been the last thing he’d noticed about her, but definitely his favorite. The way they curved upward as she watched him play with the kids. When they pulled back to showcase the perfect row of teeth that belonged in a magazine. They way she’d said ‘Thank you’ to them - specifically him, he’d though - as they bade the class goodbye, how they parted and pouted just as quickly. He could have kissed her right there, just to test drive. But it was probably best to keep things age-appropriate.

“Kris,” she whispered, her face still pressed into her pillow sleepily. That, too - he loved how his name sounded from between those lips.

He flipped her over and pressed a hard kiss against them.

*Allison POV*

It wasn’t the first time she’d woken up with Kris’s hand down her panties, but she could say it’d been a while. He played at the sensitive skin there before pushing deeper, into more dangerous territory. For that, he earned a gasp.

It fell from her tongue against her will, past the row of teeth she’d sunk into her bottom lip to keep it back. The only thing he needed was encouragement. She glanced at the clock - 6:22. There was no time for encouragement.

If only she’d finished correcting those papers last night.

“Kris,” she plead, pulling a hand from beneath her pillow to retrieve the offending hand. Before she could reach it, he’d grabbed her and puller her his way, pressing a hungry kiss against her lips before she could object any more.

She kissed back, hard. Allison had missed the feeling of a good, needing kiss. The kind where their tongues wrestled for dominance, where she could pull a moan from deep inside him with the subtle graze of her teeth against his bottom lip. A hand tangled through his hair, tugging softly at the follicles and earning another groan from the touch.

He’d pressed her back into the mattress before she got the chance to say “Please,” already fumbling with the restricting fabrics of her make-shift pajamas as she yanked the tented boxers from his thick waist. Morning Woods were meant to be satisfied. A friend from college had told her that once, but had brushed it aside as pish-posh. Now, she was beginning to rethink that.

Her right leg hitched against his hip just as he brushed a thick finger across her clit, triggering readiness to pool just south of there. He knew it, too, sliding his finger down to meet her moistened entrance. Kris loved making her wet, like it was a triumph for him. He loved how he could make her all but sing praise with the simple brush of his finger.

Kris lifted her leg a little higher on his hip as he settled himself at her entrance, inches from impact. She was ready for it, too, and not just physically. It’d been at least a week since the last time they’d come close to anything along the likes of sex. A kiss here and there. Nothing passionate like this. And she wasn’t aware of how much she’d been craving this until now.

He asked her permission with a silent nod of his head, his disheveled hair falling into his face. She nodded her agreement and pressed her fingers against the hot nape of his neck as he shifted to move into her, but was instead met with the low drone of a buzzing alarm clock. Allison closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the pillow.

Defeat.

*Kris POV*

Kris froze at the sound of Allison’s alarm clock, his tip just teasing her hot, slick core. He could continue his path, and have his way with her anyway, but he knew better.

“Kris,” she said again, her voice lacking the lust now. Now it was an excuse, the call back to the life she’d had before she’d met him. “I still have papers to- I need to get ready-” Her mouth gapped, barred with the excuses of her grown-up life. The one that didn’t seem to have time for him.

“Yeah,” he said, dropped to the bed beside her, still ready and wanting. He could take care of that later, though it wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying. “You go,” he encouraged, “I should be here when you get back.” He’d go to practice, but that’d only be for a while. And with his suspension, he wasn’t sure what help he’d be to the team.

The corners of her pretty lips tilted down; she kept her hand pressed against his neck, her thumb apologetically tracing his jaw line. Her light blue eyes stayed on his as she evaluated his tone, probably trying to determine if it had been passive aggressive or not. Hell, not even he’d been sure.

Then she blinked, her mouth twitching into a smirk. “The papers can wait,” she decided, pushing him back into the mattress and straddling his bare waist.

Triumph, indeed.