Part Seventeen

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When they finally left the bed, Tegan reluctantly replaced her bra and panties and walked out of the bathroom to find Harry still naked. He groaned grievously as he looked at her.

"Not the knickers," he whined, tugging her to his body.

"Sorry," she giggled, leaning in to kiss his lips. He groaned again as his index fingers twisted around the sides of her panties, attempting to tug them down.

"No, sir!" She giggled, evading him quickly, dashing out his bedroom door, hoping he would follow.

"Tegan!" He yelped quickly, but she was already halfway down the stairs.

Her senses should have tipped her off, yet she was still startled when she found a middle-aged woman cooking breakfast in Harry's kitchen. In hindsight, the smell of bacon should have been enough of a clue to stop her from parading around his house with her barely covered body.

"Oh my god!" Tegan gasped, spinning on her heels quickly, taking the stairs up two-by-two, darting back in Harry's bedroom as he was coming out of the closet wearing a robe and holding another in his hand.

"There's a woman cooking breakfast in your kitchen!" She announced, her eyes wide and feral.

"I know," he said with a smirk ghosting his lips.

"Oh my god!" She gasped.

"Here," he said, holding out the purple fuzzy robe for her.

"Oh my god," she said again, taking it and quickly wrapping it around her body.

"Sorry, love. I tried to stop you, but you were gone," he snickered, watching her.

"That was... that was embarrassing," she said, hugging the robe to her body.

Harry stepped toward her, pulling her into his chest, holding her tightly as he left a kiss on the top of her head.

"Wha-what is she doing here?" Tegan asked, looking up at him as best she could.

"Cooking breakfast," Harry deadpanned, pulling back only slightly to look at her.

"Well, yeah... I get that," she giggled, "how did she know to... to be here to cook you breakfast?"

"I texted her last night. We've gotta eat, right?" He said with a sideways smirk.

"Mm-hmm," she hummed, smiling up at him.

Twenty minutes later, the two of them were sitting outside on Harry's patio eating a lavish breakfast together in the morning sun, still in their robes. His personal chef, Jasmine, a lovely Latina woman, made the most delicious huevos rancheros Tegan had ever tasted in her life.

"What's your idea of a perfect day?" Harry asked casually as he popped a grape in his mouth.

Tegan's smile lit up her face as she looked up at him, taken aback by the question.

"What?" He asked, smiling back at her before swallowing the grape.

"Does the last eighteen hours count?" She asked, sending him a sly smile. Harry let out a laugh as he devoured another grape.

"Well, yeah. I suppose it does," he chuckled and she couldn't help but laugh.

"What about you?" She asked, grabbing for a strawberry before sinking her teeth into it.

"I dunno. Watching you suck on that strawberry is quite a pleasing reminder of the last eighteen hours, I'd say," Harry said, sending her a devilish smile.

Tegan whimpered into the top of the strawberry, trying not to choke on the rest of it. Harry let out an amused chuckle.

"Kitten," he cooed once again, causing a tingly feeling to spread through her skull. She was sure the neurons in the pleasure centers of her brain were overworked at this point.

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