Bound

Ryke & Kate

Ryke

I was scrolling through messages on my phone when Kate pulled her head off of the pillow. Morning sunlight illuminated her tangled blonde hair and the mascara that had rubbed off under her eyes.

"Shit," she muttered, wincing a little. "I feel terrible."

"Probably hung over," I said.

"Ugh." She let her head fall back to the pillow. "I need to go running."

"Running? You need to go back to sleep."

She sat up and tried to smooth the tangles out of her hair. "No, I like to run off a small hangover."

I raised my brows at her, a little impressed. "I'll come with you. I could use a run."

"Okay. A hot shower would be amazing, too, but the showers here are more like lukewarm . . . I just need to find some Tylenol in my purse and change real quick."

I waited for her outside and she emerged soon in a sports bra and shorts, her hair pulled back and her day-old makeup wiped off. Her fresh face and the sight of her stretching her legs in a wide V on the ground made me want to climb back in the tent with her and make up for not kissing her last night.

"What's your pace?" she asked, looking up at me.

"We can do whatever you need," I said, reaching a hand down to help her up.

She smiled and shook her head. "I'll have to slow to your pace, Ryke. I ran cross country in high school."

"I ran track in high school."

"Not the same thing," she said, laughing. "Unless you just want to do a quick sprint."

"Are you talking about doing a half marathon or something?"

"No, just a few miles."

I tugged on her ponytail and grinned. "Then set the pace, sweetheart. I can keep up with you just fine."

She took off for the dirt path in the woods and I followed, my gaze locked on her tight ass. The way she didn't seem to realize how sexy she was made me want her that much more. I wondered where things would've gone if I had kissed her last night.

The path widened and I was able to run alongside her. She was at about a seven minute mile pace, which was comfortable for both of us. I glanced over and admired the slight bounce of her tits in the tight sports bra.

"I saw that," she said, a smile dancing on her pink lips.

"Wasn't trying to hide it," I said. "You've got great . . . breasts."

Her laugh made me feel lighter. "You don't have to act like you call them that."

I feigned indignation with furrowed brows. "What else would I call them?"

"Boobs, probably? Tits?"

"I like the way you say tits," I teased. "Say it again."

Her eyes gleamed with challenge when she looked at me. "Wanna race, smartass?"

"Hell yes. But I'm not letting you win just because you're a girl."

She slowed down as laughter took over. "Ryke, you're so arrogant! I've been running for years. It's what I do when I'm stressed, so you can imagine how many miles I've logged in the past few months."

"What, like I stress you out?" I asked, coming to a stop.

"No, not you. Just . . . other stuff, you know?"