by Mia Moon
I smiled back at the woman. “Definitely. If you want to jot your email address down, I’ll send you some links. There’s a great video series online that can help you learn more.”
She rushed to grab the pen I’d pointed to and scribbled her name, email address, and her question in the notebook I’d put out. I wasn’t planning on taking requests when I’d set up my small table to bring further awareness to my column. But I’d gotten so much interest, I'd had to improvise to keep up.
“You haven’t stretched yet,” a warm, smooth voice came over my shoulder as the woman waved and walked away. “And I should know. I’ve been watching,” Eric teased, circling his arms around my waist from behind.
“I’ll still outpace you,” I said, holding his arms in place and rubbing my cheek against his light scruff. He hadn’t shaved that morning—I hadn't given him time. He’d spent the night at my place, and I couldn’t keep my hands off of him long enough to let him get anything done—other than me, that is.
“Oh, you’re on, baby,” he said, laughing as Jonathan and Andrew joined us.
“Who’s handling your table during the run?” Andrew asked, glancing around at the people who were funneling toward the 5k start line.
“That would be me,” Birdie sang, dancing over to us. Her eyes bulged when she spied my notebook of names. “Whew, girl. You’ve been busy! I hope that many people don’t come and try to talk to me. I’ll just blush and get all sorts of flustered trying to tell them I’m not the expert!”
The local police, fire, and health departments had joined together to host a health and safety fair. The guys would don their gear later in a demonstration for the public. The police were offering 15-minutes sessions about how to handle a pull-over situation. There were rows of booths lines up where people could get their blood pressure checked or talk to experts about things like Alzheimer’s and diabetes. There was even a booth sponsored by the fire department where the counseling group Jonathan and I both went to was stationed to promote mental health awareness. Guess who spearheaded that?
Jonathan beamed with pride. He’d been asked by the station to play a huge part in pulling the whole day together. The support he had from his coworkers was impressive. A lot like the support he and the guys gave me.
“Let’s go, baby,” Eric said, tipping his head for the rest of us to follow.
“Thanks, Birdie. The run won’t take me long,” I called over my shoulder.
“Show off,” Andrew teased.
We made our way to the start line and got in position just in time to take off with the starter pistol.
I’d been running with the guys off and on during our time together. If any of them had the morning off, they usually joined me. They really didn’t seem to mind me sweaty—for any reason. I was a little faster than they all were, but running with them meant a comfortable pace for me.
We’d started from the fire station. Most of the running route set for the 5k followed with, or close to, my normal route, which meant the guys knew just how to tease me.
“How committed are you to finishing this run,” Andrew asked as we blew past my place and Birdie’s.
“It’s less than an hour,” I scolded.
“Yeah, but I’m turned on now,” Eric said.
“Exercise makes me horny as fuck,” Jonathan added.
“Like I don't know that,” I teased. Every time I saw him after he’d been to the gym or come running with me, he’d attacked me like a puppy left unsupervised with a whole rack of ribs.
“Just—keep—running—” Eric huffed out like the task was impossible when he was so distracted.
“You could always play rock-paper-scissors for it,” I said, peeking over at them. “Whoever wins can pick where we veer off course to take of all these problems you guys are whining about.”
“I’m game for that,” Andrew said, his dark smile shining down on me.
“There’s a catch,” I said, cocking a challenging brow at them as I sped up. “Whoever wins has to catch me first.”
I heard their steps redouble, chasing behind me. I’d let them catch up to me. I knew we’d find a way to steal some time before we went back to the health fair, too.
“No fair!” Eric cried. “You’re so much faster than us! You’ll get to choose!”
“Then it’s a win for me either way,” I called out over my shoulder as I settled into my real pace.
Nothing held me back anymore. I just kept winning these days.
THE END
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Also read on for an excerpt from SAVED BY THE SEALS, a reverse harem romance available exclusively on Amazon!
SAVED BY THE SEALS EXCERPT
“You don’t look ready,” Alex teased through my screen door. And honestly, I wasn’t. I had forgotten I had a date. Whoops.
Shit. I was in for it. I grinned back at him sheepishly through the screen and unlocked it, stepping back so he could open it up and make his way inside.
“I’m not,” I admitted. It bruised my ego to own up to it. I prided myself on always staying on top of things. “I’m not ready at all. I forgot I had a date.”
“I’m wounded,” he didn’t really seem too hurt. He looked around, his hands in his pockets, as if the state of disarray my house was in was going to give him any clue as to how I could have forgotten.
There was no excuse. I was just awful at remembering things, and the boutique had experienced a couple of crazy-busy days. Or maybe it was all that crippling depression I had been talking to Zoe about. Then again, one would think that getting laid so regularly would have cured that almost immediately. Perhaps sex isn’t the cure for everything. But it gets pretty close most of the time.
“Do you want me to go, then?” He asked. “I don’t want to disturb you if you have planned a nice night in.”
I really didn’t have anything planned. “Oh, no, I won’t ask you to leave.” I said. “We can pop some popcorn and watch a movie. Do you like to watch old movies? Casablanca?”
“Sure,” he said, giving me a genuine smile. “That’s not usually my style. I like to go out, have fun. Wear a lot of glow sticks. I like to drink a lot, that kind of thing. Listen to music with a lot of heavy bass but sure – Casablanca sounds great.”
If we had been more familiar I would have shoved him. I considered doing that anyway. “I was just asking,” I said, sticking out my tongue. “We can watch anything you want.”
“No, no,” he said. “Old movies are perfect. You won’t hear a complaint from me, not a one.”
I went over to the cabinet and grabbed a package of un-popped popcorn, opening up the microwave and tossing it in there. I pressed the worn buttons and the tray inside started spinning. In three minutes or however long we would have popcorn, and then we would have old movies. That was a perfect night for me. “Sorry it’s not really elegant.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “I’ve seen far worse. So, hey! How has everyone been?”
“Everyone has been great,” I said.
“Have you picked a favorite yet?”
“You mean have I picked a winner? No,” I stuck out my tongue. “No cheating. Besides, I haven’t had my date with you yet. So I can’t possibly pick a winner on such incomplete grounds.”
“That makes sense,” he said. “No pressure, of course.”
“Of course,” I tilted my head towards the living room entrance. “Ready?”
He nodded and followed me in, kicking off his shoes as he went. We ended up on the couch together, snuggling up close for the most part. He was a good person to snuggle. Even as buff as he was, with his outlandishly red hair and his playful eyes, he was cozy. I curled up next to him and wedged a popcorn bowl between us. We both knew it wasn’t going to stay there long.
Sure enough, he grabbed the edge of the bowl and lifted it out of the way about mid-movie.
Considering how long Casablanca is, that was an imp
ressive stretch of wait time, in my opinion. Kudos for both of us showing some restraint.
He set the bowl down on the coffee table, turning towards me and resting a hand on my hip. I wasted no time, crawling up until I was laying on top of him, my hands on either side of his face, kissing him recklessly, hungry. He tasted like salt, and it was kind of nice in a weird way.
I pushed my hands through his hair and he ran his hands up my back. I ground my hips down against his, rocking against his erection, spreading my legs a little to try and make it nicer for him.
His hand wandered down and I felt his fingers start to explore. They found the opening in front of my pajama pants, working their way through the slit, pulling on it. I wasn’t wearing underwear, so his fingers just slipped right down.
He could feel how wet I was, already, and his fingers started stroking the outside of my entrance. It was so slick, and it made his fingers slick. He kept pulling them back and forth, teasing, keeping his head turned towards the movie as if he was actually still paying any attention.
I whimpered softly and moaned, unable to pretend. I tried to sink down onto his fingers but they were not angled correctly. It was nearly impossible. I tried to pull my hips back to try and correct the positioning but he wasn’t having it.
He kept pulling his fingers away and not putting them back until I had given up. I was getting frustrated, my desire mounting – I wanted to climb up and straddle his hips and show him who was boss. But it wasn’t going to work that way. I could already tell it was absolutely not going to work that way.
“I want you,” I whispered.
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