7. - – Scarlett
CHAPTER SEVEN
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SCARLETT
Fuck this. Fuck him. I am never fucking doing this again.
My body is sprawled out on the yoga mat as I gasp for air. Every inch is covered in sweat. Even places I didn’t know were possible.
Like who the fuck sweats from their ears!
I can feel my lungs begging to deities I’ve never heard of. All in the hope of being able to breathe normally again.
After the warm up, Micah had us run through a circuit on the punching bags. Switching between jabs, kicks and punches that had my tits almost falling out of my bra. We did that for 45 minutes before moving on to sparring with partners.
Of course, Micah was my partner. The fucker barely moved an inch from my hits. The only thing that helps my self-esteem is the fact that the other girls struggled just as hard as I did.
I flap my hand beside me until I feel my water bottle and pull it close. Lifting my head slightly, I drain the rest of the cool liquid, then flop back down.
Micah’s laugh hits my ears, and I tilt my head to see him crouched beside me. “Congratulations, you survived your first class. How do you feel?”
“Fu-fuck… you. I’m no longer sorry that I gave you black eyes. You deserve it,” I choke out between gasps.
Micah gently pats my thigh and stands up. “Oh, it’s not that bad.” He holds out a hand for me, and I take it. Micah hauls my limp noodle body off the mat and helps me sit up.
The others have already pulled themselves together and file out in groups, leaving just the two of us. My lungs finally cooperate and I slow my breathing back to normal.
“Now, once you can stand, you’re gonna follow behind me in your car. You are coming over and I’m going to cook you a delightful meal, then I’ll fuck you senseless,” he says, like the bastard didn’t almost kill me with fitness.
“What? Fuck that. If I do come over, I have to go home and shower first,” I protest and push myself up to my feet. My legs shake like a newborn deer and I grip his bicep to help steady myself.
“Yeah, that’s gonna be hell no. That’s the marinade, baby girl. I’m not gonna let you ruin my meal. Oh, before we leave, strut your sexy ass into the bathroom and take off your panties. I need something to tide me over until we get to my place.”
I blink at him as his words repeat in my brain. Why is that fucking hot? Most women would be disgusted, yet I can feel arousal pooling in my core. We spoke about kinks during our chats before the date. But I didn’t think he was serious.
“You want my sweaty thong after a workout?”
“Yup,” he says with confidence.
A smirk curls my lips, and I give him a nod. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Releasing his arm, I grab my bag and shuffle towards the changing rooms to a stall.
My leggings are stuck to my skin, and I peel the fabric down. Sweat drips down my thighs, and I fish my legs out. I have to wrestle my thong off and I hang the ripe cloth on the door hook.
There’s no way I’m putting my tight pants back on and pull out my loose sweats from my bag. Once I’m comfortable, I ball up my thong and head out. Micah is by the front door waiting for me. His eyes drop to my fist, and I see the slight catch of his breath.
I hold out my hand and let my red thong dangle from my index finger. “There you go.”
He snatches them from me and lifts them to his face. Micah inhales deeply, a loud groan leaving him. The man is acting like he’s finally getting a fix after being denied for weeks.
“Fuck yes.” He moans and cups his crotch.
I drop my gaze and see he’s rock hard. A squeak of surprise leaves me and Micah scoffs. “Thanks, princess. Now come on. The second we get to my place, I’m diving between your legs.” He opens the door and holds it for me.