Lor chuckled, smoothing his hands down her thighs before nudging her gently aside.
"I'm trying to be. Someone has to make sure we're not late."
"Fine, fine," she sighed, rolling off him with mock defeat, her body stretching in a languid arch that made his throat dry.
The shirt—his shirt—rode up higher, flashing the smooth expanse of her thighs, her bare pussy catching the morning light. "I'll go home, change into my uniform, and meet you there. Happy?"
"The best idea you've had all morning," Lor said, his crooked smile betraying the heat still simmering in his veins.
She narrowed her eyes playfully, then slid off the bed with a grace that made his pulse skip.
She gathered her scattered clothes from the floor, slipping into them one piece at a time, each motion a slow torment—her skirt hugging her hips, her blouse straining against her bust.
When she was done, she slung Lor's shirt over her arm, the fabric dangling like a trophy.
