DeLuca at age thirty-two
doesn't mean you feel the same way you did when you were
twenty-one. As if you could really call that love anyway...
Not that Sam knew much about it either way,
and now he shied away at the thought that what he'd felt for Carla
back then was far and away more than he'd felt for any other woman
before her or since.
He shook off the thought. He cared for her,
true. And he wanted her. So much he was afraid he would
spontaneously combust if he didn't get relief from something other
than his right hand in the very near future.
Which was why he was here, at the resort's
state of the art workout facility at the ungodly hour of six a.m.,
as he'd been every morning for the past five, pushing himself to
the brink of exhaustion to take the slightest edge off the grinding
need coursing through his body every second of every goddamn
day.
At this early hour it was deserted, as even
the most fitness conscious guests wouldn't start wandering in for
yoga or Pilates until after nine when regular classes began. Good
thing, because the way he'd been grunting and sweating his way
through his workouts this week any observer would be likely to
think he was about to have a coronary.
He pushed himself through his fifth set of
sit ups and stayed seated on the mat, picked up his bottle and
squirted water into his mouth. His breath came so fast and loud he
didn't hear the door to the fitness center open.
“ Oh, you're here.”
He didn't even need to turn and look to see
who it was. The charge of electricity that traveled down his spine
to zap him in the balls was enough. Still, Sam pushed himself to
his feet and turned to greet her.
Carla hesitated in the doorway as he drank in
the sight of her. Her face was scrubbed clean of makeup, her hair
pulled into a tight pony tail. Knee length black pants stretched
tight over her tight, toned thighs and mouthwateringly firm ass,
and a bright orange lycra tank top clung to the lush curves of her
breasts and the flat plane of her stomach, leaving her tanned, well
defined arms bare.
She glanced at the watch strapped to her slim
wrist. “You're usually gone by now.”
So, she was keeping tabs on his gym time. To
make sure she didn't run into him? Interesting.
Sam grabbed a towel from the stack near the
cardio equipment and used it to wipe his face and neck. “I usually
am, but I felt like going a little longer this morning.”
Needed to, was more like it, especially after
the dream he'd had in the small hours of the morning, a variation
on the same one he'd had every night since he'd arrived. Him and
Carla naked, skin to skin, kissing, touching, his fingers sliding
between her legs to find her pussy soaked with a need that matched
his. Him sliding his cock against the smooth skin of her inner
thighs as she spread them, the pink folds of her pussy parted and
wet, waiting for him to come inside.
He always woke up at that point, his dick in
is own hand as he writhed in an agony of lust and the need to get
inside of her, to know once and for all what it would feel like to
have Carla's tight, wet pussy take him all the way inside.
He felt the familiar stirrings at the memory
and dropped the hand holding the towel in front of his crotch
before he sprung a full tent pole in his shorts. He found her
watching him, color high on her cheeks, her plump bottom lip caught
between her teeth as her eyes tracked him from the top of his sweat
damp head, down the front of his sleeveless work out shirt, now
drenched from exertion.
Lingering on the towel draped oh so casually
in front of the raging hard on he'd sprung the second she walked in
the room.
Her dark eyes went hot, just for a second,
but it was just enough to let him know that maybe she wasn't as
indifferent as she wanted him to think.
“ I―I don't want to disturb you,” she
said, her voice a little breathless like it used to get when she
was about to come.
Sam smiled and walked to the water cooler, in
the opposite direction of
doesn't mean you feel the same way you did when you were
twenty-one. As if you could really call that love anyway...
Not that Sam knew much about it either way,
and now he shied away at the thought that what he'd felt for Carla
back then was far and away more than he'd felt for any other woman
before her or since.
He shook off the thought. He cared for her,
true. And he wanted her. So much he was afraid he would
spontaneously combust if he didn't get relief from something other
than his right hand in the very near future.
Which was why he was here, at the resort's
state of the art workout facility at the ungodly hour of six a.m.,
as he'd been every morning for the past five, pushing himself to
the brink of exhaustion to take the slightest edge off the grinding
need coursing through his body every second of every goddamn
day.
At this early hour it was deserted, as even
the most fitness conscious guests wouldn't start wandering in for
yoga or Pilates until after nine when regular classes began. Good
thing, because the way he'd been grunting and sweating his way
through his workouts this week any observer would be likely to
think he was about to have a coronary.
He pushed himself through his fifth set of
sit ups and stayed seated on the mat, picked up his bottle and
squirted water into his mouth. His breath came so fast and loud he
didn't hear the door to the fitness center open.
“ Oh, you're here.”
He didn't even need to turn and look to see
who it was. The charge of electricity that traveled down his spine
to zap him in the balls was enough. Still, Sam pushed himself to
his feet and turned to greet her.
Carla hesitated in the doorway as he drank in
the sight of her. Her face was scrubbed clean of makeup, her hair
pulled into a tight pony tail. Knee length black pants stretched
tight over her tight, toned thighs and mouthwateringly firm ass,
and a bright orange lycra tank top clung to the lush curves of her
breasts and the flat plane of her stomach, leaving her tanned, well
defined arms bare.
She glanced at the watch strapped to her slim
wrist. “You're usually gone by now.”
So, she was keeping tabs on his gym time. To
make sure she didn't run into him? Interesting.
Sam grabbed a towel from the stack near the
cardio equipment and used it to wipe his face and neck. “I usually
am, but I felt like going a little longer this morning.”
Needed to, was more like it, especially after
the dream he'd had in the small hours of the morning, a variation
on the same one he'd had every night since he'd arrived. Him and
Carla naked, skin to skin, kissing, touching, his fingers sliding
between her legs to find her pussy soaked with a need that matched
his. Him sliding his cock against the smooth skin of her inner
thighs as she spread them, the pink folds of her pussy parted and
wet, waiting for him to come inside.
He always woke up at that point, his dick in
is own hand as he writhed in an agony of lust and the need to get
inside of her, to know once and for all what it would feel like to
have Carla's tight, wet pussy take him all the way inside.
He felt the familiar stirrings at the memory
and dropped the hand holding the towel in front of his crotch
before he sprung a full tent pole in his shorts. He found her
watching him, color high on her cheeks, her plump bottom lip caught
between her teeth as her eyes tracked him from the top of his sweat
damp head, down the front of his sleeveless work out shirt, now
drenched from exertion.
Lingering on the towel draped oh so casually
in front of the raging hard on he'd sprung the second she walked in
the room.
Her dark eyes went hot, just for a second,
but it was just enough to let him know that maybe she wasn't as
indifferent as she wanted him to think.
“ I―I don't want to disturb you,” she
said, her voice a little breathless like it used to get when she
was about to come.
Sam smiled and walked to the water cooler, in
the opposite direction of
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