Page 45 of Scream
"Go!"
She jabs, her punches barely making it move, but she's going. Never giving up. Her damp tank top clings to her like a second skin. It was only a week ago she finally let me see her without a hoodie or a sweatshirt while she worked out. I had to avert my eyes because I kept getting hard while we were in Raven's basement. I finally had to leave and jerk off, finding my release in less than three minutes, then flushed it down the toilet. Not a proud moment for me.Especially when the guys all have knowing smirks on their faces.
I was a fucking special forces sniper. Did two fucking tours. I've been stabbed, shot, left for dead. But this woman walks around with a sports bra and yoga pants, and she kills me. I practically cum in my pants at the thought of tasting her. It doesn't help that she smells so fucking good all the time. If she doesn't smell all floral, she smells like warm sugar and cinnamon.
Fuck I want her on my tongue.
"Thirty seconds!"
She no longer looks at her footwork, she's steady and trusts herself. She's getting stronger. Better. Breathes deeper and easier.
"Twenty!"
Her core tightens, her punches slamming harder. I know my baby's exhausted, but she's my little fighter.
"Ten!'
She's grunting, making noises that get me so fucking dizzy.
I count down for her.
She doesn't let up.
"Three... two... one!"
She stops, slowly putting her arms down, delicious ample chest heaving. Sweat trails from under her breasts, to her navel, to the parts that make her a woman, and I am infatuated. She turns to me, red-faced and beautiful, green eyes gleaming. "I did it."
I nod. "You did. For forty-fiveminutes."
"You said only thirty!"
"But I knew you could go longer, and you did. How do you feel?"
She squints at me, eyeing me up and down, then purses her lips together. "Betrayed."
I huff out a laugh. "Unwrap so you can get showered, and we can get coffee on the way to the jet."
She does as she's told, throwing away the boxing tape. "Mmm. Just chamomile. I want to sleep on the plane. We'll have too much to do once we land."
"Alright."
"Thank you, Parker. For everything. I know I don't say it enough... but there's a part of me that really believes I wouldn't still be here if it weren't for your patience. I know I'm a nightmare and a bit of a bitch, but I'm working on it. Trying to. I'm doing my best." She corrects herself.
Truth is, she can be as bitchy to me as she likes. I fucking love her spitfire. Mostly ‘cause it's not ever really aimed at me. It's aimed at her fiancé. I fuckingloveit. She gets home all angry and starts baking for me or working out. I'm fine with either.
I follow her out into the living room, and we go our separate ways.
I need to make sure I fist my dick before our six hour flight or I’ll have another awkward boner to deal with on the plane.
"What… in the goddamnfuckare you doing here?" She growls as we enter the cabin of the jet, finding Maksim on his laptop, whiskey to his right with a firm, smug smirk on his face.
"My future mother-in-law called me this morning. Imagine my surprise when she asked if I would be arriving in the morning as well."
"You aren't needed on this trip, Mr. Giordano. I'm just getting my dress. You can go."
"Or I can stay. And it'sMaksim."
"It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding."
