Page 21 of Resisting the Running Back

Has she ever had ass play?

Could I break that barrier for her?

No. Pull it together, Banks. Jesus.

I was in the next room the night she lost her virginity. I know she’s had sex, and she’s told me about her previous partners—much to my distaste. Sometimes I hate knowing those things about her, but our openness with each other is one of the things I appreciate about our relationship.

Still, we’ve never discussed anal.

Maybe weshoulddiscuss anal, though the more I eventhinkabout anal, the harder my dick gets.

It’s painfully hard as the hero thrusts into the tight ring of the heroine’s ass, and the scene is from his point of view. I start to stroke my own cock as I read the words on the page.

It’s so realistic as Sophie—or Summer Love—paints the picture of how it feels from a man’s perspective. The pressure building up, the intense emotions, the heat tearing through his body.

How does she know how it feels? Did she interview someone, or is this just out of her imagination?

He inches closer and closer to his climax, and I feel it, too, as I stroke my hand up and down my cock.

He explodes into her ass, and I set the book down and close my eyes.

I picture Sophie bent over my bed the way the woman in the book is as I pound into her ass from behind. I tighten my fist over my cock, and I give in to that image that lives rent free in my brain.

I stroke myself faster as I sprint toward the finish line, my other hand coming down to cup my balls as I feel them drawing up. The same fire that the hero in the book just felt tears along my own spine, and my body contracts as pulse after white-hot pulse of come jets from my cock and onto my fist. I stroke myself through it, never letting go of the image I have in myhead, watching it like a movie as she screams out in pleasure, too. As I finish and my body starts to come down from the high of an orgasm, I picture her turning around, those gorgeous brown eyes connecting with mine in a hot, intimate moment.

God, I want her.

But I can’t have her.

And there’s nothing I can do about it.

When morning dawns after a fitful night’s sleep knowing she’s in my house sleeping a few doors down, I get up, throw on some athletic shorts, and head straight for my home gym. Tanner and I worked hard to ensure this gym would have everything we need in it, and I start with a run on the treadmill followed by squats, lunges, and weights.

By the time I emerge two hours later, I’m ready for some fuel to start my day.

Sophie is up and working at the kitchen table when I walk into the room, and she slams the lid of her laptop shut again.

I watch as her eyes zero in on my abs, and she says, “Good morning. Have your abs always looked like that?”

I laugh. “I wouldn’t sayalways, but probably since I started working with the pros.”

“Damn, Miller.” She wiggles her brows.

“What? If I had these abs in high school, you would’ve given me a chance?” I’m flirting, and she blushes.

I think she likes it, though we both know it’s just harmless fun. Or it appears like it is, anyway, even if I’m serious about it.

She lifts a shoulder. “Maybe.”

“Well, you had that same ass in high school, and I never had a chance.” Her ass. Why did I bring up her ass? I’m still hot thinking about last night and what I was imagining while I read her book.

She scoffs as she rolls her eyes. “My ass is definitely bigger now than it was fifteen years ago.”

“Just as hot now as it was then.” I know she thinks I’m just being nice, but the words are true. Before it gets awkward, I change the subject. “I was just about to make some breakfast. You want anything?”

“Sure, whatever you’re having is fine.”

“Protein oatmeal with extra nuts?” I ask.

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