Page 41 of Boys Who Taint

So I tilt my head and say, “I didn’t mean your face.”

My eyes slowly slither off to her thick butt below.

She pulls off her towel and smacks me with it, right in the face.

I take it like a man.

“Keep your eyes to yourself, thanks,” she says.

“I prefer keeping them on you, where they belong.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” she asks while she continues biking.

“Other than staring at you? No. Never.”

She’s getting more and more annoyed by my presence, but it only eggs me on further.

“I’m busy.”

“I can tell,” I reply. “This is the first time I’ve seen you in this gym. Why start now?”

“How would you even know this is my first time?” She scoffs.

“Trust me, I would’ve noticed.”

She rolls her eyes but keeps on biking anyway just because she can, and I kinda admire her enthusiasm to keep ignoring me, but it’s not going to work.

“I need to exercise,” she explains. “So if you could pl—”

“For what? Those perfect hips don’t need any.”

She gasps, and the air catches in her throat.

“I’m just saying, there must be a reason …” I muse.

“None of your business,” she retorts.

“Why are you so mad, Freckles? Have I done something to offend you?” I ask.

“Existing,” she says with a stone-cold face.

I fake a knife going into my chest. “Don’t hurt me. I’m sensitive.”

She frowns. “Who are you kidding?”

“You. Is it working yet?” I joke, winking.

“You’re as sensitive as a rock,” she says.

“Hard as one too.” I flex my arm. “Wanna feel?”

She makes a face. “Are you trying to compensate for something small?”

Oooooh. Burn.

“I don’t know. Wanna find out?”

She rolls her eyes and groans out loud. “Can you please let me work out?”

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