“I don’t think I’m going to talk to you for the rest of the day.” I caught him checking my ass out. “Nah, nigga, you ain’t getting that either.”
He slowed me down, then lowered the incline. “You say that now.”
“I mean that shit.”
“We’ll see. Cool down.”
I slowed my pace to an easy walk and eventually stopped.
“Good girl.” He gripped my butt, squeezed the cheek, then smacked it again. “You did it.”
I collapsed on the rubber mat. “Lord, please. I promise I won’t scream your name during sex anymore if you turn my internal temperature down.”
I was on fire, burning up with the heat of a thousand suns. My cute workout pants felt like a noose on my legs. Patting my hair, I cringed at my thick roots. “Dude, I can’t keep sweating my silk press out.”
“You asked me to help you,” he said. He sounded far away, like he was underwater. “I promise you’ll feel differently in one month.”
“I can’t believe you get paid to torture people.”
I heard the ice machine on the refrigerator. “It’s not that bad.”
“To you,” I argued. “You can do this shit in your sleep.”
“I love it.” Footsteps echoed off the tile until they stopped right next to me. “You good?”
Cracking one eye open, I asked, “What do you think?”
He shook the huge bowl of ice in his hand. “Take that shirt off.”
I raised a curious brow. “For what? I told you I’m closed for business.”
“That’s what you think.” He raked his gaze over me, lingering on my face, my lips, my breasts, and my . . . “Take your shirt off,” he repeated, his voice a low growl.
Sitting up, I peeled my shirt off. I couldn’t lie, when I’d bought this pink set, I knew it would elicit this response from him. The long-sleeved crop top accentuated my breasts and the high-waisted, ruched, shorts sculpted my ass. Real talk? We almost didn’t make it to the treadmill. And I wouldn’t have been mad, but then he had to hold me accountable for the pact we made.
“The shorts,” he commanded softly.
Lifting my butt from the floor, I pushed them off.
Silence, then he dropped to his knees, grabbed an ice cube, and trailed it over my nipple.
I hissed, arching my back off the floor. The contrast between my hot body and that cold ice was almost orgasmic. It felt good.
He dragged the ice over my stomach, circling my belly button. As it melted, water drizzled down my skin, sending a delicious heat to my pussy.
“Asa,” I pleaded softly. My body was trembling with need for him, aching for his touch.
Groaning, he sucked the moisture off my stomach. “You still closed for business?” he teased.
As if they had a mind of their own, my legs fell open. I snapped them shut. “Maybe,” I teased.
He smirked, grabbing another piece of ice and gliding it lower, lower, until he reached the apex of my thighs. His free hand swept up my inner thigh, pushing my legs open again.
With his eyes locked on mine, he swiped his fingers over my core. I nearly came undone when he slid a finger over my slit. I sucked in a deep breath and waited for him to make his move.
He raised a brow. “Are you open for me?”
Unable to take it any longer, I nodded. “Only for you.”
