She grabbed his rear end, helping him drive into her repeatedly. The sensations were rising, building, higher, higher. She was panting and clawing at him.
“I’m so happy, baby.”
“Oh Tristan…” she shuddered and moaned and then whimpered, digging her nails into his back. He came with her then, arching his back, his eyes blazing brilliant blue. He ran his tongue over her throat and then kissed it and collapsed beside her and they both stayed there, breathless, staring at the ceiling.
“Wow.” Kyla muttered.
“Wow.” Tristan agreed, “Quick but still wow.”
“Wham bam, holy fuck.” Kyla mumbled.
He laughed a big belly laugh and kissed her hard and fast on her mouth, her left cheek, her right cheek, her forehead. Then he let out a deep exhale and let her go, “Give me 10 minutes and I’ll be good to go again.”
She laughed.
“I’m serious,” he said with conviction.
“Goodie,” she stretched and curled up close to him, putting her hand across his belly, her lips to his shoulder.
For a few minutes they both laid there in amicable silence, but for their ragged breathing. Suddenly Tristan jumped up seemingly energized. Kyla, on the other hand, felt her eyes drooping.
“I need to go. I’ll be back. Don’t leave the room, just in case someone comes back. Should I get you something to drink before I go? I should order a fridge for this room. Yeah, I’ll do that tomorrow.”
She shook her head, amused at his burst of energy. It was like he’d just downed two Red Bulls. “No. I’m okay. Where are you going? Stay with me?” she said shyly.
“Just for a run. I just need to run some energy off and then I’ll hold you all night long. And we’ll have round 2. Or is it 3? Then maybe round 4!” he kissed her forehead, “Can I trust you to stay here, honest? No locks, no gates?”
“Honest.”
“You won’t try to leave me?” he asked, his eyes pleaded with her.
“I won’t,” she meant it. Kyla tried to push away a pang of jealousy but couldn’t help it. Tristan got into a pair of shorts and socks and put on a pair of runners.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, quickly tying shoelaces.
She shook her head and squirmed into the pillow and squeezed her eyes tight.
“Kyla? Words, please.”
“It’s just…I’ve been dying for a good run, too. I used to run every day and I feel itchy for it.”
He leaned over her and kissed her nose, “Give me a few minutes to run. You won’t be able to keep up. Then I’ll come back and bring you.”
Kyla smiled, “Kay.”
He brushed her hair away from her face with his fingertips and kissed her again and then he dashed out, seeming like a little boy on Christmas morning.
Kyla grabbed some shorts and a t-shirt, a sports bra and clean underwear. Then she wrinkled up her nose remembering she didn’t have any running shoes. Even running in her bare feet in the grass again would be okay, though; better when she wasn’t on the lamb. She glanced at his shelf filled with half a dozen pairs of running shoes. Way too big. They’d be clown shoes on her and she’d undoubtedly fall on her face.
She wondered where her shoes were from that first night. They were ballet flats, though, not runners. She went to the bathroom and got dressed, washed her face, then combed and retied her hair up. It was after midnight and she’d guessed he’d been gone about 10 minutes. She was antsy so she started stretching, getting geared up for the run. Suddenly, he was there, sweating, heaving, and two inches from her, looking gorgeous and happy, and smelling like a McDonald’s hot apple pie.
“Hey, princess,” he said.
“Hey,” she gave him a shy smile, joy welling up inside.
“C’mon,” he grabbed her hand. He was still full of energy, she could see. She followed him downstairs through the kitchen, past the large fridge, where he reached in and grabbed two bottles of water, passed her one, and then they walked down a hall on the main floor Kyla hadn’t seen yet. It led to a humungous great room, big enough to host a huge party, with a fireplace, large leather sectional couches, and large TV. There was also a long fully-stocked bar on one end. There were sliding doors on one end that led outside and another end, which led to the courtyard. He walked her out the one and then they were on the property, looking ahead at a dark clearing in the trees with a pathway that was flanked with garden lights. It looked like it went quite far ahead uphill.
“Oh,” He stared at her feet, “You’ll have running shoes tomorrow. Wanna get your flip flops and just walk?”
“Let’s just run on the grass? I need the wind in my hair.”
“Okay” he said, “and I’ll get the treadmill upstairs for you from my gym tomorrow. Then you can run whenever you want to.”