1642734778_punk-57-pdf

“And here I thought you ate children,” I muse, handing her the
notebook.
She throws her towel down and takes the book, immediately opening it
and scanning the inside. “Well, I do like to play with my food a bit before I
eat it.”
She fans the diary, probably looking to see if anything is missing.
“I didn’t tear out any pages,” I assure her.
“How do I know you didn’t make copies?”
“Because I don’t play with my food before I eat it.”
Dane clears his throat at my side, speaking low. “I’m going to go wait in
the parking lot. Take your time.”
He follows the parents and their kids out of the gym through the side
door. Ryen stuffs the diary in her bag and picks up the towel, continuing to
dry off her legs. Her black bikini bottom, unlike her rash guard, is not as
conservative as I would like. Her toned legs look tight and smooth, and the
droplets of water on her thighs have my heart skipping a beat.
She realizes I’m still here and scowls. “Well?” she snaps. “You can
leave now.”
I slide my hands into my pocket. “And why would I do that, Rocks?
When it’s so warm in your presence.”
“Why do you keep calling me Rocks?”
I ignore the question, keeping my eyes locked on hers. But then I notice
her shiver, and without thinking, I glance down, seeing that her nipples are
harder than ever. She’s obviously cold, and visions of her in a hot shower
invade my head. Naked, steam, heat…
Wait…
Shower. I glance behind me at the men’s locker room door. Her friend
and that fuckwad could still be in there. What if she hears something? Or