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The Casanova (The Miles High Club #3)(22)

Author:T.L. Swan

Eyes

Green

Skin

All over my body

A goofy smile crosses my face and I slump back against my headboard as I reread the message.

Keep chasing that sun.

That’s what I’m doing, Edgar Moffatt the dick fondler, that’s what I’m doing.

I sit my head back against the wall as the sweat runs down my chest; it’s around 8 p.m. on Wednesday night and after the longest day in history, I’m in the sauna at the gym.

It’s hot and steamy and I let out a relaxed sigh.

The door opens and Elliot Miles appears with a white towel wrapped around his waist. He’s naked from the waist up and tanned skin and muscles are all I see.

Oh crap.

I swallow the lump in my throat.

He glances up and his step falters as he sees me. “Kathryn.” He takes a seat.

“Hi,” I squeak.

The door opens and a man goes to walk in.

“This is full,” Elliot snaps. “Come back later.”

Chapter 3

I stare straight ahead. Shit . . . Don’t look at him, don’t look at him, don’t look at him.

“I didn’t know you used the gym at work?” he replies casually.

“Uh-huh.” I smile awkwardly as I keep my eyes straight to the front. What is the correct etiquette for saunas? I mean, I’ve been in here a few times already and never once have I had to concentrate on not looking at anyone.

The air is thick and hot and I find a piece of wood on the back of the door and stare at it. Elliot’s presence is all-consuming and taking up the small space; I can almost feel his nakedness under that towel from here.

Look straight ahead, I remind myself.

Don’t give him the satisfaction of drooling over his muscles. Dammit, why does he have to have them?

“How was your day?” he asks.

“Fine thanks.” I smile. “How was yours?”

“It just got a lot better, thank you.”

My brow furrows, what does that mean? Does that mean it got better when he got in here with me? I run my finger in a circle on the wood on the bench beside me, unsure what to say or where to look.

Or what to think.

My mind wants to go to a dark place and glance over at the golden muscles that I can feel taunting me from my peripheral vision.

But I won’t, I’ll continue to stare straight ahead.

“Do you come to the gym often?” I ask to try and fill the awkward void between us.

“Not often enough,” he says. “I have a gym at home and usually run there at night. But it’s late tonight and I know once I get there I will want to relax. I did a quick half an hour on the treadmill.”

I get a vision of him running, and the sweat dripping down his . . .

I grip the seat beneath me with white-knuckle force. “Oh” is all I can force out of my mouth. I glance down at myself: my black bikini top is covering all my bits.

Just.

What must he think?

“Do you always stare at the wall in the sauna?” Elliot asks.

“Well, it’s a square wooden box.” I shrug. “What am I supposed to look at?”

Elliot lets out a low chuckle and I bite my lip to hide my embarrassed smile. He knows that I’m avoiding looking at him with all my might.

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