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“Is something wrong? Did you see someone?”
“We’re too exposed out here.”
“They couldn’t possibly track us.” She’s simply saying what she overheard one of us say. Theoretically, she’s right. But they found us once. And we still don’t know who they are, or why.
“Let’s wait until we’ve gathered more intel. It’s…best to play it safe.” I already ran the length of this beach. Scanned the terrain as I went. But it’s a different experience with Sage out here beside me.
My experience comprises little protective detail. They deployed our team on missions more along the lines of extraction or infiltration. But that’s no excuse. I know better than to parade her along a public beach.
Back at the cottage, we rinse our feet and head inside. I lock the door behind us, set the alarm, check the windows, and check my phone for any updates. There are none.
After I find a workout routine on my phone, she stretches out on the floor, legs spread wide, and leans over one long leg with the grace of a gymnast, leaving the smallest of gaps between her torso and thigh. I sure as hell don’t have that kind of flexibility.
“Are you going to sit there and watch?”
“Will it bother you? I rather like the view.”
She rolls her eyes to the ceiling, but the flush of color in her cheeks says she might act annoyed, but she likes it. And her acting job is piss poor. She’s too sweet to pull off angry. She alternates her stretch to the other leg, then flattens to the ground between her two outstretched legs.
“Have you always been this flexible?” These moves are familiar. Call it yoga, Pilates, or plain old stretching, but anyone who doesn’t do it, no matter how macho, is begging for injury. For me and my brothers, it’s serious business. Still, Mr. Bendy, I am not.
“I guess.” Her fingers spread out as she flattens her palms against the hardwood floor.
“Do you want me to get you a towel? I can ask Max to bring a couple of yoga mats.”
“A couple? Are you going to join me on the floor?”
Mirth fills those sugary sweet eyes. And yeah, I can imagine quite a few things I could do to her stretched out on the floor like that. We could move those tiny shorts to the side, and I could come up behind her… I close my eyes and force myself to redirect my gaze out the window.
An overly bright voice speaks through my phone, telling her to begin by getting on her hands and knees. My semi-hard cock does some stretching of its own. I shift on the sofa, adjusting my shorts.
Her back forms a dome, as instructed. The cotton of her tee stretches smoothly across her back. No bra. Her chest presses out, and she looks to the ceiling, lengthening the lines of her smooth neck where my lips traced last night.
The band of her shorts slips higher up her slim waist. The hem lifts too, exposing the curve of ass cheeks and a strip of white cotton. I swallow. My mouth dries.
Her hair’s back in a ponytail, and it flips around with the movement of her head. It’s a nice, thick ponytail, one that could be fisted and used to direct… Jesus, I have to get hold of myself.
I grab the laptop and connect through the VPN. Read through the project updates.
BlueSky
Contact made with S. Watson neighbors in 3B. No valuable intel. Report posted.
Ryan
Interpol shared watch list. Mtg at 1300 PST to review.
Max
Dropped supplies. All good.
BlueSky
Does watch list include all known aliases? Database pulling zilch on three.
Ryan
Plan to attend the 1300 mtg. We’ll review.
