𝐁𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 {18+}

3. BLAME ME

July 12th, 2017
Buffalo, New York

UNLIKE THE DAYS BEFORE, Leah was the first to wake up after Uwe. She was glad. It gave her enough time to do a short HIIT routine and enjoy some peace since nobody would be in the shared bathroom facilities at that hour. How easy she was to please. But seriously, having to walk for fifteen minutes to the portable shower trailers was better than hearing her friends pacing up and down the corridor, groaning to each other because they needed to pee.

As she stepped into the tiny changing area that was part of the cubicle, locking the door behind her, Leah left her stuff on the ledge and undressed. All she could hear were a few birds chirping outside and the water falling over her. This was the life.

Once she was done, she walked out with the idea of sitting on the trailer's steps while waiting for her skin to completely dry. She was wearing flip-flops, and getting dust and pine needles stuck to wet feet was the worst. It was the same with wet clothes. There was something about that clinging sensation that really troubled her mind. Besides, it wasn't like she was in a rush.

However, her plans changed when she saw his broad, tattooed, easily recognizable back.

Why the fuck do I keep bumping into him everywhere?

His hair was up in a ponytail, sweat shorts hanging dangerously low on his hips, the indentations at the end of his spine calling for attention.

Smoking while talking on the phone in Norwegian, Søren was completely oblivious to her presence. But then, of course, he had to turn around.

Yup, no underwear.

Leah almost fell flat on her ass. It had been nearly three months since she had an orgasm because she hadn't been in the mood to even touch herself. But this man—this sight—made her remember how he felt inside of her and her folds fucking clapped.

Keeping his gaze on hers as his conversation with whoever continued, he lifted a brow. She scanned him up and down, mouth agape, brain dead. He wasn't exactly shredded, but his muscles were more defined than when she'd seen him last. Still quite bulky, though. And those pecs, those abs, and the incredible V that slipped inside his pants, guiding to his—

"Morning," Søren said when he hung up.

A shiver traveled up her spine, goosebumps spreading all over her body. His voice was so deep, raspy, and slow... God, she loved it. How did a single word cause such a riot?

"It's rude to stare like that."

Leah scoffed and her sarcastic-self won over the hormonal teenager currently throwing confetti because the guy she liked had talked to her. What even?

"Well, you shouldn't wear it like that if you don't want anyone looking at you." She used her eyes to point at the area she meant—though it was obvious what she was talking about.

She hated it when people assumed someone was seeking attention when they wore a skirt a bit too short or a particularly striking neckline. Everyone was free to wear whatever the hell they wanted, as long as they weren't hurting or offending anyone else. But in Søren's case, in this moment, no matter if you were a woman, a man, hetero, gay, asexual, or a fucking goat: You. Would. Stare.

Søren smirked. "Didn't think I'd bump into someone so early. Much less someone like you."

"Someone like me?"

"You're gonna tell me now you're a morning person?"

"Touché." She nodded.

"Why are you already up, anyway?" he asked, putting out the stub of his cigarette.