Jonathan brushed aside the damp, messy strands of hair by my temples while interlacing his fingers tightly with
mine.
His breath was hot and ragged, his voice low and husky.
“Let’s go back to the room. Not here… it’ll be uncomfortable for you.”
He looked lean and slender with his clothes on, but I never expected his body to be this perfect underneath. He even had eight–pack abs.
I couldn’t fathom how, with such an intense workload, he still found the energy and time to work out. But no matter the reason—it was a delightful bonus for me.
I couldn’t get enough of it, tracing my fingers over them again and again.
“Do you like it?” Even in the middle of our passion, Jonathan didn’t forget to ask.
What a question. Who wouldn’t like a man with abs?
“Of course I do,” I replied, pressing my hand against them more firmly.
“Then they’re yours from now on.‘
11
I didn’t respond. His mind seemed to drift along with mine, both of us floating somewhere between reality and desire.
Back in school, Jonathan had been the unattainable, the charismatic senior every girl admired from afar.
I didn’t even dare to dream of him.
Sure, there were fleeting, secret crushes tucked deep inside my heart, but they stayed hidden, unspoken.
But now he was right here, in my hands.
