Sal
“Wakey-wakey. Time to go running,” Francesca chirps like a personal trainer jacked up on caffeine and candy bars. Maybe some red bull and steroids for all I know.
I hide my head under my pillow as if it will make her disappear, but it only prolongs the inevitable.
“You have got to be kidding me!” I yell back when she pounds again on my bedroom door at seven o’clock. Birds are chirping outside my window and it’s a welcome sound . . . only not this goddamn early in the morning.
“I worked last night. You weren’t up until midnight like me.”
“You’re wrong about that. I was up late doing research. I need to go shopping later to buy some stuff, y’know, to blend in and all that.” She pauses and when I hear nothing, I hope she’s gone.
“Y’know,” she lets out a tiny huff, “I feel like an idiot having a conversation through your bedroom door.”
I assume Matteo is with her, unless she got the jump on him and laid him out just for kicks. I chuckle at the mental image as I throw the sheet off and put my feet on the cool floor.
Out of respect, I push down my morning erection and even stooped to pick up boxers putting them on as I head to the door. I finally open it and immediately lean on the frame with my eyes half open giving her the full-frontal view of my abs. Let’s see how she likes this.
“The vision of you in shorts and a tank top is my sole motivation for getting out of bed. Period.” As my sleepy gaze runs up and down her tight body. I enjoy the fact that it’s extremely obvious that I’m ogling her to throw her off her game. She’s mind fucking me as she’s wearing next to nothing.
Her bright pink sports bra strains across perfectly natural C-cup breasts and she even has the fucking matching running shorts and pink shoes. It’s designer but I’ve never seen it before, and I’m beginning to think she has stuff custom made.
“Pink? Really? I wouldn’t call that an indiscreet color to go trotting around in.”
I prepare to warm up. Do we have all the information on her? Because coming from her family she’s too put together. It’s like she’s the block that doesn’t belong with the rest of the group of rectangles.
“The sun isn’t getting any cooler, so I suggest you get dressed and meet me downstairs ASAP.” Her words hit me like a face full of ice water and her green eyes cut through me, unfazed by my half-naked physique. Maybe I misjudged her.
I stand straighter and give her a half salute. “Well, aren’t you the drill Sargent.”
“I didn’t get this way by lying in bed all morning. You might look like you’re in good shape, but can you run?” She spins on her neon sneakers before walking away, taking the steps downstairs two at a time like it’s part of an obstacle course.
“Oh, yeah, when are you having the barn converted to a gym?” she hollers over her shoulder.
“Soon,” I respond, my answer ambiguous because I haven’t ordered the equipment yet, but she doesn’t need to know that. I’ll have someone shop with the list.
“Good,” I hear as the front door opens.
Christ, I better get down there.
With no time to spare, I throw on gym clothes and hop around the room on one leg at a time pulling on my sneakers before racing after her.
Shit, she’s hard to keep up with.
I’m a numbers guy at work, so most of my work is done in my head. When I’m not working out in my head, I’m working out in my bed, but that’s been awhile, so I’ve resorted to servicing myself. I mean, that was sufficient until Francesca showed up.
I can’t believe I think of her before I fall asleep. Her emerald eyes and perky smile make me want to be accommodating to her every whim. I even enjoy it when she gets a one-liner over on me. I like our word play.
When I make it out the front door, I catch Francesca doing stretches. I copy her moves and act like I’m a pro at this even though it’s been years. I notice Matteo getting in his Range Rover, which he then pulls up and sits waiting on us. Not a bad idea to be vigilant on a normal day, but Francesca is, well . . . not normal. Besides, one can’t be too careful.
Having Matteo close by and Francesca around all the time, it’s beginning to feel like home week with my old soccer buddies from our recreation league days when we hung out all the time eating, playing, and exercising.
Matteo is watching us from a reasonable distance and that implies we’re all getting less paranoid about each other. Francesca calls out to me bringing me back to reality and I’m chasing after her.
The morning mist rises off the road and the sun breaks through the cypress trees providing ample shade and then we run at a nice clip. A gentle intermittent breeze rustles the leaves and gives me goosebumps as it passes over my skin.
From the corner of my eye, I take in Francesca’s full breasts, bouncing and straining to break free of her sports bra. They’re beautiful, big enough to be a more than a mouthful.
She catches me looking, so I fall behind and decide this is the better view, following her firm round bottom. As if she can feel my eyes on her ass, she picks up the pace. Fuck me, I have to run faster.