Page 78 of Running
Shivers run through me. I love how it feels to be almost naked in front of him. Vulnerable, exposed, like he could do anything he wanted with me.
Only it’s Johnson, so I also know I’m safe.
“Don’t move,” he commands.
He starts stripping himself. First his shirt comes off, one hand reaching to the back and pulling it over his head in one smooth motion.
Seeing his naked chest for the first time in over two years is an experience.
His muscles are thicker, that’s for sure. But what really stands out is the dark hair that crosses his chest. It’s so thoroughly masculine and sexy, and all I want to do is run my hands down his chest, caress the crisp texture of the hair.
Against the rules for today, though.Soon.
“You look different,” I observe, unable to filter myself.
He chuckles lightly. “I used to shave my chest in college. I’m over that now.”
“I like it how it is now.”
His eyes light up. “Good.”
Then he stands up. “I need to catch up with you.”
Pulling his shorts down, he steps out of them as they reach the ground.
As he straightens back up, he’s left with only his navy boxers on, the heavy outline of his bulge in front of them.
He takes another minute to admire my body, while I’m appreciating his. Then our eyes meet directly, and something charges through me, through us, that I’ve never felt before, with anyone.
A live wire connection that is deliciously physical, but also is coated in pure trust. Desire meeting faith in the other person.
It pulls on my heart strings, hard.
He looks intense, like he’s getting hit by the same sensation. But then slowly his lips turn up and his eyes brighten.
“You’re going to wreck me, Goldie, and I’m going to love every minute of it.”
And now I’m awash in a new confidence, instilled by his words.
“Hmmm,” I say, my own smile forming. “I don’t know if I want to wreck you, but maybe I’ll torture you a little bit.”
It’s the most bold comment I’ve ever said to a guy, and I match the words with my next actions.
I reach back and undo the snap of my bra, which instantly becomes loose in my hands, falling away from my body.
Like most competitive runners whose body fat stays so low, my boobs are not voluptuous. I don’t mind my small B-cup size, though. They’re perky and cute to me.
Neither does Johnson, apparently.
“Yeah, wrecked and tortured both. I can’t believe I don’t get to touch you,” he says darkly as the tent in front of his boxers grows yet again, his eyes moving over my body with raw heat.
I don’t wait for any more of his chatter. I’m so turned on right now watching him take me in that I just want to start being able to touch myself.
Pulling down my thong, I pop back up, fully naked. I meet Johnson’s eyes as soon as I’m fully standing.
He takes a deep breath and rubs his hand over his cock, maybe without even knowing it.
“Look at you. Look at you. Glistening already.” I blush slightly at his observation, but his worshipful tone keeps the bulk of my nerves at bay.
