She set off at a pace that made me thankful I’d kept up my training regime during the off season. I was at peak physical fitness, but being two hundred and thirty pounds, I wasn’t exactly built to run high speeds for long distances. It was a good job I warned her I’d be falling behind to look at her ass, because that’s exactly where I was.
Not that I minded in any way; it was a fucking fine ass and was helping me concentrate on not falling behind further, which was a challenge in itself. Her long legs were powering her forward, eating up the sidewalk with ease as her ponytail swished like a metronome with each stride.
We reached the Financial District, heading toward Battery Park before she slowed down, turning around to see where I was, running backwards.
She took her headphones out. “You okay back there?”
“I’m good thanks, I have a great view.”
She laughed, moving forwards again, running a little further before stopping at the spot overlooking Governor’s Island and the Statue of Liberty. The boats had already started ferryingtourists over for the day. I watched as she started stretching out of habit to stop her limbs from seizing, lifting her leg against the railings to keep her hamstrings loose.
I groaned internally. “Luck, you can’t stretch like that in front of me in public. You’ll get us arrested.”
She turned, confused. “What? How?”
“Because I won’t be able to control myself.”
She slowly placed her leg back down, then propped herself against the rails, leaning back. “Better?”
I walked over to her. “Much.”
I removed my sunglasses, sweat was running down my face and I lifted my shirt to wipe it off. As I dropped it, I could see her gaze through her aviators locked on my abs.
Fuck me.
“Eyes up here, sweetheart.” They shot up and I moved closer, pinning her to the railings. “You keep looking at me like that and we won’t make it through this date.”
Her eyes creased in amusement. “This is a date?”
“Sure is, our first one. The second starts this afternoon; twelve on the dot.”
As I grinned at her, she reached out and pushed her finger into my cheek.
“What are you doing?”
“I just wanted to poke your dimple,” she giggled.
My dick jerked in the confines of my shorts.
I leaned in, dropping my voice. “I’ll poke your dimple.”
Her breath hitched.
I pulled her glasses off her nose and put them next to mine on the collar of my shirt. Her skin was flushed pink from the run; sweat dripping down the sides of her face to the column of her neck, rolling between her breasts which were still heaving slightly - although I had an inkling it was more to do with our proximity to each other than the run we’d been on.
Because I was the same.
Her eyes dropped to my lips. Her pupils dilated, turning the turquoise to a darker blue, the flecks sparkling gold with lust.
I was not against making out in public.
I dipped down slowly, catching her mouth with mine, and ran my tongue along the soft outline of her full, pouty lips. She moaned under me, opening up wide, and I stroked against her. She returned it ten-fold as we savored the flavor of each other in a way that was bordering on indecent for nine thirty on a Tuesday morning. I cupped her face, not wanting it to ever end, but pulling back before I got carried away. A pink flush crept up her cheeks, making her freckles stand out even more, and I wondered how long it would take me to count them all.
Her lips were swollen, and I’d never seen anyone so fucking beautiful. I ran my thumb back and forth along her jaw line. I groaned, feeling it deep in my ever-tightening balls, so tight they were aching.
“I know I said I wanted to do this properly, but I’m not sure I’ll make it past date two at this rate.”
She put her arms around my neck, her elbows resting on my shoulders. “You really want to date properly?”
