And I stood up tall, tense that I might have pissed him off.
He pulled off his mask, his hair wet with sweat as he laughed, and I relaxed.
“Nice job, kid,” he granted, breathing hard. “Now I need a drink.”
I nodded, smiling as I let him walk off the floor. My mouth was also parched, but I wasn’t ready to take off my mask to get a drink yet
I turned my head right, realizing I’d forgotten Michael was even watching. He swirled his amber drink as he stared at me with heat in his eyes, and I couldn’t get my breathing to calm down. At that moment, every inch of my skin was aware of him.
I was damp with sweat, and the clothes stuck to my body. Every little hair was sensitive, and I wanted his mouth everywhere.
“Care for a match?” a man asked.
I twisted my head, seeing another guy with tousled black hair and dark eyes.
I nodded, not saying anything.
Positioning my feet, careful of the other fencers around us, I began sparring with him, but I was no longer thinking about fencing.
Michael. Michael, Michael. Always on my mind. Always inside of me.
I could feel his eyes on me now, and all I wanted was to strip out of these clothes and feel his skin on mine.
Forever.
What was I going to do?
“Hey, hey, hey…ease up,” the guy demanded. “I’m trying to enjoy myself here.”
I slowed my advance, breathing hard. “Sorry.”
I scored two times and he once, but I could barely concentrate anymore. Michael was watching, and now, instead of sparring and scoring, I wanted something else. The sweat on my bare skin under the clothes made the fabric chafe, and the threads rubbing my clit made me wet. I could feel my pulse between my legs throbbing, and I turned my head quickly to see Michael’s jaw flex and his chest rising and falling faster.
The corner of his mouth lifted smugly, and he knew I was getting worked up.
But then I grunted, feeling the flat tip of a sword digging into my stomach.
“Ugh,” I growled, backing away. “Dammit!”
The guy laughed at me, and I scowled at Michael, seeing him smile to himself.
My skin was so hot, and frustration nipped at every nerve on my body. The suit and mask felt like a pile of blankets on top of me, weighting me down so much that I was suffocating, and I wanted to rip everything off just to breathe.
I clenched my fists, seeing the challenge in Michael’s eyes. Oh, no. It’s my way this time.
“Good match,” I ground out to the guy, and then I walked away, leaving the floor.
“Hey?” I heard the guy exclaim.
But I didn’t turn around.
Tossing my sword at Michael, I saw him catch it before passing his table and walking out of the room, knowing he’d follow.
I made my way through the gym and into locker room, turning my head and seeing him come up behind me with fire in his eyes. He didn’t have the sword, so he must’ve left it at the table.
Twisting back around, I headed for the showers again, knowing we’d have privacy in the separate stalls, but he grabbed me by the hips, stopping me instead. Swinging open the door to the steam room, he forced me inside, and I glanced around quickly, making sure it was empty.
Steam hung in the air of the huge beige-tiled room, several areas difficult to see with all the water in the air. The rectangular area was scaffolded like a movie theater with four levels of seating and plenty of room to lie out.