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I shrugged.
“I feel accomplished when I’m done,” I admitted. “Though, it’s fucking daunting as hell when Pace, who has no fuckin’ legs, can whoop my ass as bad as he does. He consistently finishes at least four to five minutes ahead of me when we run. It’s intimidating, to say the least.” I grinned. “You want to come up there with me tomorrow? I can run the last mile with you.”
“Mile?” she asked. “I thought you said you wanted me to run three?”
“I did,” I confirmed, walking my own trash to the trash can and throwing my beer cans into the trash.
She rolled her eyes, pulled the beer cans out of the trash, then walked them to the recycling bin on the back porch before once again locking the door.
When she made it back to the kitchen and my side, I grabbed her around her hips then hefted her up onto the counter.
“You can’t just come out and run three miles. You have to work up to it,” I said against her lips. “And I’ll definitely help you work up to it.”
Her hands threaded around my neck and she pulled herself up and me down until my lips were against hers.
“Why do I get the feeling that we’re not just talking about running anymore?” she whispered.
I skimmed her shirt up, allowing my fingers to drag deliciously against the skin on her side.
Then stopped when I encountered her bra.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said. “I’m just helping you get ready for bed.”
Her laugh was full of joy as I yanked her off my counter and took her to the bed.
By the time we got there, and I was laying her down, she had her bra undone and her shirt up and over her head.
I pulled back just long enough to lose my own shirt, as well as my jeans and underwear, before coming back down to lie on top of her.
“We’ll call this our pre-workout,” I teased.
She shook her head in amusement as she skimmed her hands down the muscles in my arm.
“I’m fairly sure if I have to do any of the work, I’ll pop like a tick,” she informed me. “So, don’t expect me to get on top and start bouncing.”
I rolled my eyes at her, causing her to narrow hers.
“You—”
I cut her off with a roll of her body.
One second, she was on her back, about to lecture me, and the next she was on her belly and I was helping her up to her knees.
Things went quickly after that.
Once I got her sufficiently wet enough to take me, I sank slowly inside, but didn’t waste time getting her or me off.
Snaking my arm around her hips, I fingered her clit as I took her in slow, measured thrusts.
And despite having had nearly constant, regular sex for the last two weeks, sometimes three and four times a day depending on if we were both off, I was already ready to come.
She started pushing back against the saddle of my hips, asking for it harder without saying the words, and I obliged.
The moment I did, her body began to tighten.
“Please,” she whispered. “Oh!”
I thrust in sharply, feeling the bump of my pelvis against the plushness of her ass.
