I don’t have an automatic pot and Riley was never the type to do for himself. The next morning, though, the scent of fresh brew, along with memories of the evening past, had me smiling before my eyes were even open. Locating my T-shirt and shorts in pools of sunlight on my floor, I got somewhat dressed and smoothed my sex-mussed hair before I went looking for Miles. I expected to find him in the kitchen but the coffeepot was alone. The only place left was the living room. He didn’t hear me so he didn’t turn around, and I got to take in what looked like the rear view of a men’s underwear photo shoot. Miles was naked but for his black boxer-briefs, and they were pretty brief. His blond hair and lightly tanned skin fairly glowed gold in the sunlight flooding my living room. I was taken aback anew at the sculptured muscles under his taut skin, leading down to an athletic butt designed perfectly for grabbing. As Miles stood casually sipping from one of my mugs, he looked like a Nordic god on a coffee break.
