"Sei que eu tenho o dom de dar mergulho com o olhar.Pega e dirige pra casa no dia também que o nosso carinho não dói em ninguém" - Liniker
Iwake up early in an enviable mood. My breakfast is already served in the antechamber, and alongside the usual spread, a bouquet of lavender and lilies adorns the center of the table. A card is tucked beside the juice.
"Your scent is permeating my mind as are your lips, your voice, and your touch. How can I sleep after feeling the warmth of your body? Knowing your kiss is so good that I never tire of imagining you with me? I'm counting the days until our dinner.
P.S. I spent the night thinking about you. It was torture. — K."
I eat my breakfast with a private smile, glancing back and forth between the note and the flowers. I pull on my gear — sweatpants, a top, and a shirt — and head down to the gym. She isn’t there. Maybe she decided to skip her run today.
Megan Woods:"I slept wonderfully. Maybe it’s the art—it's always relaxing to look at beautiful things. Or maybe it’s the kiss. Who’s to say? — M."
I hit “send” before starting the treadmill. Twenty minutes in, the heat is becoming unbearable. I’m sweating through my clothes, so I pull off my shirt and hang it over the armrest.
I turn up the volume on the news in my headphones, focusing on the screen. Fifteen more minutes, and I pause to hydrate.
I watch the weather report — more snow and cold on the way — and wait for my heart rate to steady. I’m always irrationally afraid of having a heart attack while running; although my old trainer said it’s nearly impossible, I’ve always felt I was “special” when it came to things going wrong.
Suddenly, I see her hand resting on my discarded shirt. I look over with a smile. Her eyes drop immediately to my chest. Without stopping my stride, I point my index and middle fingers to my own eyes, the universal sign for “look at my face.”
I pull off my headphones and hear a long, drawn-out “good morning.” Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her taking one last look at my body.
"Did you get the flowers?" She throws the towel on the treadmill support next to her and we look at each other in the mirror. I nod and say they're beautiful. "Have dinner with me. It'll be just the two of us and the chef." I pause the treadmill. As the belt slows, I take a moment to catch my breath.
"How would we even get there?" I rest my arm on the support of her machine. I can feel the sweat dripping between my breasts as my headphones hang around my neck.
"Taxi. I can meet you at the corner of the hotel. I'll wear a windbreaker and a cap, no one will recognize me."
I wipe my forehead with my shirt and sling it over my shoulder.
"Friday. 8:00 PM. On the corner."
"Megan, this is hard," she says, her voice dropping. I arch an eyebrow. She bites her lower lip, her gaze traveling up and down my body. "You look too good in that outfit. Put your shirt on. This is torture."
"Who said I wasn't trying to torture you?" I take a sip of water and splash some on my face. She stops her treadmill and stares at me, leaning on the frame as if she’s lost her train of thought. "You can finish your run... or you can meet me in the locker room."
"I..."
"What? Lost your voice, Kelsey?" I slide my headphones back on, turn my back to her, and walk calmly toward the locker room without looking back.
The locker room is a sanctuary of marble and cool floors, with double sinks and a long black bench. I start washing my face as I normally would. Just as the second rinse hits my skin, the door clicks shut. Kelsey has entered and locked it behind her.
"Your Honor, I didn't expect you to be so provocative," she says with a feline intensity. She’s already pulled off her own shirt as she approaches.
"I didn't say anything about ulterior motives," I say, my mouth going dry as I watch her. I feel a shiver when she stops just inches away.
"I’m not going to have sex with you for the first time in a gym locker room. I told you I wouldn't treat you like anyone else, and I’m standing by that."
I raise my eyebrow and her hand wraps possessively around my waist, triggering a wave of lust that disrupts my breathing. She turns me against the sink, making me face her in the mirror while she pulls my hair close to my scalp. I'm in the same position I saw her in on the day of the event.
Her hand releases my waist and squeezes one of my buttocks. Without breaking eye contact, I feel a hard slap that makes my ass burn at the same time my body contracts. Spontaneously, I tense my body and smile after letting out a restrained moan.
Her tongue touches my neck and she licks it while turning my body to face her. An impulse makes me wrap my legs around her waist and I am supported on the sink counter. Our mouths meet and my sweat slides down her body. She doesn't seem to mind; her hands squeeze my breasts over my top and I can't help but moan against her mouth.
She laughs between kisses when I run my hand over her breasts and squeeze them. As soon as she holds me tighter, her other hand slides to my pussy over my pants. I try to clench my legs, but I want her so badly that I give in as soon as she scolds me with her eyes and pulls me by my ass for a delicious kiss.
"Fuck me already, Kelsey." I pleaded. She shook her head while running her lips over mine.
"But I can jerk you off in the hotel locker room." Kelsey promised softly.
