Priest_by_Sierra_Simone 3

That voice. Even though I’d only heard it twice, it had been seared onto
my memory.
It was a mistake, but I turned anyway as I pulled out my earbuds.
She was running too, and by the looks of it, she’d run just as far as I had.
She wore a sports bra and very, very short running shorts, that only just
covered her perfect ass. Sweat dripped from her too, and she was absent the
red lipstick, but her mouth looked even more amazing without it, and the only
thing that saved me from staring hungrily at it was the fact that her toned
thighs and flat stomach and perky tits were on such ready display.
Blood rushed to my groin.
She was still smiling at me, and I remembered that she had said something.
“Sorry, what?” My words came out harsh, breathless. I winced, but she
didn’t seem to care.
“I just didn’t peg you for a Britney Spears fan,” she said, pointing to where
my iPhone was strapped to my bicep and clearly displaying the cover of
Oops…I Did It Again. “Retro Britney too.”
If I weren’t already roasting from the run and the heat, I would have
flushed. I reached for my phone and tried to subtly change the song.
She laughed. “It’s okay. I’ll just pretend I saw you listening to—what is it
that men of God listen to when they run? Hymns? No, don’t tell me.
Chanting monks.”
I took a step closer, and her eyes flicked across my shirtless torso,
sweeping down to where my shorts hung low on my hips. When she met my
eyes again, her smile had faded a little bit. And her nipples were hard little
points in her running bra.
I closed my eyes for a minute, willing my swelling dick to settle down.
“Or maybe it’s totally opposite, like Swedish death metal or something.
No? Estonian death metal? Filipino death metal?”
I tried to think unsexy thoughts as I opened my eyes. I thought about my
grandma, the threadbare carpet by the altar, the taste of boxed communion
wine.
“You don’t like me very much, do you?” she asked, and that brought me
crashing back to the present. Was she insane? Did she think that my
uncontrollable hard-ons around her were a sign of dislike?
“You were so nice the first time I came in. But I feel like I made you mad
somehow.” She glanced down at her feet, a move that only highlighted how