Lean On Me #Wattys2016

Part 7

Ashlyn

Would it be weird if I grabbed one of these ice packs and shoved it down my shirt? Because I'm about to overheat and that's going to be embarrassing. I made the mistake of kneeling before him and now that I'm looking up to his face from this position, my mind has begun to wander with all the filthy images that make my core feel hot and needy. I have trouble opening my eyes the whole way, the lids so heavy with the lust that hit me about ten minutes into our run.

I feel the contrast of temperature on his skin now. It's cold just outside the ice, but then burning hot where my arm brushes his skin. I want to run an ice cube all over his body. I want to listen to his intake of air and hear that groan I heard earlier coming from those lips. Beards aren't usually my thing, but that scuff on his face has me itching to run my fingers through it and give it a good tug. Would he like that? Would it turn him on to mix pleasure and pain? I feel dizzy just from thinking about it.

I release my lip from between my teeth, feeling the small indents left when I bit down as to not moan with my own desire feeling his warm breath fan out across my bare shoulders. It doesn't help that he hasn't taken those deep brown eyes off of me since I hit my knees. Damn I love a man who watches unabashedly. My nipples are pressed so tightly against my shirt it's almost painful. I hope he thinks it's from the cold of the ice and not that I want to climb on top of him and give him a little pain relief through distraction and steamy hot endorphins.

"Feel good?" I ask a little more breathy than I meant it to be.

I watch him swallow slowly, as he lifts his eyes from my breasts to my face. His own tongue moves out to wet his lips. "Yes," his low rumble is dripping with sexual tension and it pulls slightly at the invisible chord between us making my core throb a little more insistently and my body lean in closer. The tips of my breast brush his good leg and I feel the zing of pleasure race through my breasts and down my spine. I need to get out of here.

"I should go," I say but don't move. He nods his head slowly, never taking his eyes off mine. I want him to touch me. Fuck, I want to touch him, but I'm not so sure that's a great idea or one we won't regret.

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

"No. I'm off tomorrow, but we can go for another run if you're up to it. Maybe at night this time?" I don't usually run in the evening, but I'd set up almost anything to get to see him like this again.

"Sounds good. What time?" He's still looming over me as I kneel at his feet. How easy it would be to lean in again—to brush myself against him and run my hand up the cold skin between his legs where the ice is melting in the bag.

"I'll see you at seven?" He nods in agreement and I force myself to rock back on my heels and stand up. He moves to stand but I lightly push him back down onto the couch.

"I'll show myself out." I don't look back at him when I leave, but I feel the heat of his eyes on my body as I flee from his apartment and beeline for the cold relief of the shower I so desperately need. 

***Getting a little hot in here? Thanks for all the comments and votes so far. The more interaction from you, the hotter I will write the scenes. You've all been so talkative and encouraging.  Thank you!