Page 85 of Bewitch

I never thought I would be able to pick up a guy for that.

No paper bag required.

“Ready for the next move?” I ask, changing the subject.

He smirks, and I sure hope he can’t infer the truth behind my diverting attention away from that particular cardiac activity. “Sure.”

Lucas goes over and grabs a medicine ball. We sit next to each other, our feet crossed and hovering above the ground. He hands me the ball, and I twist, almost touching the ball to the ground and then turning back to give him the ball. He does the same and gives it back to me, and we continue on and on, our fingers touching from time to time, and I swear each time that happens, I feel a jolt of energy.

Sexual energy.

Sizzling energy.

“Sit on my other side,” he says, a bit breathless. “So we can twist the other way.”

“Yeah, like you can’t get up and move to the other side.”

“Maybe I just want to check out your ass and see if it’s getting any smaller.”

I stand and make sure he can see my backside. “Is it rounder? Lifted more?” I actually rub it.

What the hell am I doing? Where did this confidence come from?”

“Maybe rounder. Maybe lifted a little, yeah.

“Smaller?” I keep my back to him but glance over my shoulder. “I don’t know if I want it to get too much smaller, actually.”

“So you want to be with an ass man versus a boob guy?”

“Which are you?” I ask boldly as I come to sit on his other side.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“That might be why I asked.”

He says nothing, and we do the same move, twisting to the other side this time before handing over the ball back and forth.

Once we’re done, he eyes me. “Do you want to do those specific moves, or can I come up with some?”

“Go ahead.”

“How about this? We do jumping lunges and clap opposite hands as we do it.”

“Cardio, huh?”

“Yeah. Not the fun kind, but…”

“If that’s what you want…” I try to smile seductively, but I doubt I pull it off.

We face each other, and I quickly realize that he’s trying to dictate the pace, lunging and jumping to another lunge faster and faster. Our hands slap each other, and I have to try to keep up with him.

I even manage to go a little faster than him a few times, and when he’s the first one to lose his balance, I cheer and pump my fist and almost fall down.

“Really?” he asks, smirking. He’s laughing, but so am I, and when he holds out a hand to help me up, I accept but then yank him down so he falls down beside me.

“Really,” I inform him.

“I know how much you love pushups,” he says. “Let’s go.”

---