All the Way (Hot Jocks #2)(57)

“Never again,” I call out breathlessly after her.

She only laughs. “It becomes addicting. You’ll see.”

I highly doubt that. I work out hard enough—I don’t need to add running to the mix. I only did this for her. And based on the look of pride and satisfaction on her face, I would say she’s pretty happy about that.

Becca circles back to where I’m now sitting in the grass, stretching my abused hamstrings, and leans down to press a quick kiss to my lips. “Thank you for doing that. I’ve never run that far before. I’ve always wanted to, but that distance was . . . I don’t know . . . intimidating, I guess.”

Shielding my eyes from the sun, I look up at her. “I’m starting to believe you can do anything you set your mind to.”

She smiles and offers me a hand. I almost end up toppling her over on top of me when she tries to help all two-hundred-plus pounds of me up off the ground, but somehow she maintains her balance.

“I’m fucking starving and ready to eat my weight in whatever’s closest,” I say as my stomach gives off a monstrous groan.

Becca chuckles, shaking her head. “Then let’s feed you. I’d say you earned it.”

“First, give me your phone,” I say, holding out my hand.

Becca’s eyes narrow, but she hands it over. “What are you doing?” she asks as I begin punching in a string of numbers.

“Programming my new number into your phone. I had it changed so I won’t be getting any more weird texts.”

Her mouth drops open in surprise, and then she smiles at me like this is the best news she’s heard all day.

? ? ?

After eating at a sandwich shop on the walk home, we go back to my place and head straight for the shower.

“You want to go first?” I ask as we step into the bathroom connected to my room. I turn on the water and test it with my hand. I normally like it hot enough to melt my skin, but I’m guessing Becca might not appreciate that.

She gives me a look, appraising me for a moment before she speaks. “Or we could shower together.”

Hello, best idea ever.

I grin back. “Or we could do that. I’m starting to think running together has its advantages.”

Becca just smirks, and with a shimmy of her ass, looks over toward me and says, “Told ya.”

We’ve never showered together before, and I’m suddenly wondering why the hell not. “That’s one of the best suggestions I’ve heard all day.”

She laughs again, tugging her tank top off over her head. In seconds, she’s out of her damp clothes, sighing when she steps under the spray of water.

“This shower is amazing,” she murmurs.

The shower is huge—it’s one of the things that sold me on this apartment. It could easily fit six people and has three showerheads.

“Glad you’re enjoying it,” I say as I drop my shorts and tug my T-shirt off over my head.

“Get in here, Parrish.”

There’s a playful tone to her voice, and I’m grinning as I step into the glass-enclosed space with her.

She reaches for the bodywash, and my gaze dips down, traveling over the length of her. She’s incredible, with a body that can run ten miles, but still has all the soft curves a woman’s body should have. I’m constantly amazed by her.

Becca squeezes some of the mint-scented bodywash into her hands and rubs them together, then lathers the soapy bubbles all over her stomach and breasts.

“Goodness . . . someone’s a little excited.” Her eyes widen as she notices a certain part of my anatomy that’s eagerly straining toward her.

I shrug. “You. Naked. Wet. Soapy . . . that’s all it takes.”

She rolls her eyes and squeezes more bodywash into her palm.

“Here, let me.” There’s no way I’m missing the opportunity to have my hands all over her.

She turns, presenting me with her back, and I work the lather into her overworked muscles, taking my time to massage each one.

“Ahhh . . .” Her sigh of pleasure is immediate. “That’s so good.”

My throat is dry, and my body goes impossibly stiffer. Everywhere.

I plant a slow kiss on the back of her neck as my hands drift to her front, cupping her round breasts and massaging them. She leans back against me, and my hand slides down her stomach and between her legs. As she arches against me, parting her legs, I run my fingertips over her smooth center.

Moaning when I touch her, she reaches up, threading her fingers through the hair at the back of my neck. “Owen.”

My name on her lips thaws the last bit of my heart. I love that I’m the man who gets to do this for her, the one to pleasure her and take care of her.

I sink one finger slowly inside her slick warmth, and Becca trembles.

“Oh . . . Owen,” she says, moaning again.

It doesn’t take long for her to completely come apart, trembling in my arms as she cries out my name. And then she turns toward me, her lips finding mine, and her hand curls around my length. I let out a slow, shaky exhale as she works her wet hand up and down over me. It feels so fucking good.

“Bedroom,” I pant. It’s not that I don’t want to take her here, of course I do, but I don’t have any condoms nearby—so my bed wins by default.

She shuts off the water as I grab two towels, draping the first one around her shoulders, and then I tie the second in a knot around my waist. We’re still damp from the shower by the time we make it to my bed a few feet away, and we fall into the center of it, tossing the towels to the floor.