they shook the snow off their jackets and boots before entering. The place was deserted, or so it seemed.
Sonia took the key out of her pocket and unlocked the door, then stepped inside and turned on the lights. It was a small gym, but equipped well enough to keep any willing athlete in shape. Along one wall there were a few rest benches, and the workout machines were scattered around the room. Another wall was covered with mirrors, and facing it was a set of large windows revealing a beautiful view. On the right, a door led to two small locker rooms.
“Go and change there,” she told him, indicating the sideway door. “I’m going to set the thermostat to a higher temperature and put on some music.”
As Giovanni headed off, she set the temperature and turned on the radio, finding a local station she liked. Pop music began pumping from the top quality speakers.
Giovanni reappeared wearing black shorts, a black tank top and sneakers. He looked around, as though trying to decide with what to start after a short warm up.
Sonia grabbed her own bag and went into the locker room. She undressed quickly, shivering, since it was still cold in the small room. The heater will start doing its job soon enough , she thought, shimmying into a pair of dark blue sweat pants, a worn black tank top and black Nikes.
When she returned to the workout area, she found Giovanni stretched out on a bench, working with weights, while Michael Sembello’s Maniac boomed from the speakers. She stood for a long moment in the doorway watching him, as her heart rate escalated and her body began a slow process of melting from the inside at this breath-stopping view.
His every muscle was tense and contracted as he lifted and lowered the weights rhythmically, his biceps curving with the effort. His chest was already gleaming with sweat, making his rounded pectorals appear even better defined. Her gaze lowered to his long muscled thighs and calves, sprinkled with just the right amount of hair. The shorts fit him perfectly, as did the tank top, more outlining than covering the key parts of his body. Hell, she adored every delicious inch of him.
Her chest rose and fell in the rhythm of a runner, as though she’d already begun her workout. Just looking at him was a powerful calorie-burning process, and a lot more pleasant than physical effort.
She nearly jumped when he said, “Are you going to stand there all evening, princess?”
She swallowed, shaking her head to clear her muzzy brain.
“No, I was just…warming up.”
And how true was that, she wondered giddily while she moved near the heater and started doing some stretches. She was more than warm, she was hot, burning for him as she’d never imagined it was possible. The man had turned her from a practical, matter-of-fact woman, into a sex addict. For she was indeed addicted to him—no question about that—and not only in a sexual way.
They exercised without much conversation, letting the music fill the silence. After some time on the treadmill, she went to the bench and crashed, exhausted. With her eyes on Giovanni, she hadn’t even timed how long she’d ran, but her drumming heartbeats told her she had exaggerated.
He’d just finished working on his abdomen—not that it needed any improvement—and came toward her. As she laid prostrated on the bench, she looked up and saw him smiling down at her.
“Are you okay? I forgot my towel,” he said, dragging his tank top over his head to wipe his glistening face.
Sonia’s mouth went dry and her lips parted in a silent Oh my , as she let her gaze wander over his smooth, naked torso. He looked like a living sculpture of the most accomplished artist. Each muscle was beautifully shaped and toned, each line splendidly defined, forming a perfectly proportioned ensemble.
She noticed his face was covered by dark stubble, which made him look even sexier, polished yet outdoorsy. Of course, either of the rugged-looking sportsman or the classy
Sonia took the key out of her pocket and unlocked the door, then stepped inside and turned on the lights. It was a small gym, but equipped well enough to keep any willing athlete in shape. Along one wall there were a few rest benches, and the workout machines were scattered around the room. Another wall was covered with mirrors, and facing it was a set of large windows revealing a beautiful view. On the right, a door led to two small locker rooms.
“Go and change there,” she told him, indicating the sideway door. “I’m going to set the thermostat to a higher temperature and put on some music.”
As Giovanni headed off, she set the temperature and turned on the radio, finding a local station she liked. Pop music began pumping from the top quality speakers.
Giovanni reappeared wearing black shorts, a black tank top and sneakers. He looked around, as though trying to decide with what to start after a short warm up.
Sonia grabbed her own bag and went into the locker room. She undressed quickly, shivering, since it was still cold in the small room. The heater will start doing its job soon enough , she thought, shimmying into a pair of dark blue sweat pants, a worn black tank top and black Nikes.
When she returned to the workout area, she found Giovanni stretched out on a bench, working with weights, while Michael Sembello’s Maniac boomed from the speakers. She stood for a long moment in the doorway watching him, as her heart rate escalated and her body began a slow process of melting from the inside at this breath-stopping view.
His every muscle was tense and contracted as he lifted and lowered the weights rhythmically, his biceps curving with the effort. His chest was already gleaming with sweat, making his rounded pectorals appear even better defined. Her gaze lowered to his long muscled thighs and calves, sprinkled with just the right amount of hair. The shorts fit him perfectly, as did the tank top, more outlining than covering the key parts of his body. Hell, she adored every delicious inch of him.
Her chest rose and fell in the rhythm of a runner, as though she’d already begun her workout. Just looking at him was a powerful calorie-burning process, and a lot more pleasant than physical effort.
She nearly jumped when he said, “Are you going to stand there all evening, princess?”
She swallowed, shaking her head to clear her muzzy brain.
“No, I was just…warming up.”
And how true was that, she wondered giddily while she moved near the heater and started doing some stretches. She was more than warm, she was hot, burning for him as she’d never imagined it was possible. The man had turned her from a practical, matter-of-fact woman, into a sex addict. For she was indeed addicted to him—no question about that—and not only in a sexual way.
They exercised without much conversation, letting the music fill the silence. After some time on the treadmill, she went to the bench and crashed, exhausted. With her eyes on Giovanni, she hadn’t even timed how long she’d ran, but her drumming heartbeats told her she had exaggerated.
He’d just finished working on his abdomen—not that it needed any improvement—and came toward her. As she laid prostrated on the bench, she looked up and saw him smiling down at her.
“Are you okay? I forgot my towel,” he said, dragging his tank top over his head to wipe his glistening face.
Sonia’s mouth went dry and her lips parted in a silent Oh my , as she let her gaze wander over his smooth, naked torso. He looked like a living sculpture of the most accomplished artist. Each muscle was beautifully shaped and toned, each line splendidly defined, forming a perfectly proportioned ensemble.
She noticed his face was covered by dark stubble, which made him look even sexier, polished yet outdoorsy. Of course, either of the rugged-looking sportsman or the classy
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