Runner's High

By Emma Berkeley

A chance meeting of the sexiest kind!

When Cam and Becca catch each other's eye, sparks fly -- and so do their inhibitions! 

"...It was a blur of lips and tongues and hands, reaching, stroking, changing positions, stretching and sighing. The golden tones of late afternoon accentuated the unreality and seemed to heighten each sensation. At one point, he'd loomed over her on his knees, straddling her legs—stroking them and drinking in the vision of her beneath him on the crisp sheets...."

Experience every tingle and throb from the point of view of both participants.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Emma Berkeley
• Release date: Sep 16, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393649540

Emma Berkeley

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Book preview

~ Runner’s High ~

Act the First

Becca groaned and curled her toes as her skin flushed and a fine film of sweat misted her body. She drew one knee as far to the side as she could and lifted her hips to increase the pressure of Cam’s tongue against the flesh over her clitoris. The sateen cotton of the pillowcase was clutched tightly in her fingers.

Oh, God, I’m g-gonna—c-come any—any second....

In response, Cam tightened his grip on her hips and slid his elbows together under her bottom to lift her well off the mattress, changing the angle completely, and beginning to suck rhythmically on her clit.

The throbbing that had been building in Becca’s abdomen exploded out from her center and her whole body shuddered, as she panted and then bit back a long sob of pleasure. Her pussy clamped down and released over and over and over. Mewling cries escaped her as her orgasm cascaded through her, her calves gripping his ribs with each spasm like a rider holding on to her runaway mount for dear life.

Two or three long minutes passed as she came down, tremors coming less frequently as Cam languidly swept his tongue over her swollen lips and clit, stretching her climax out as long as possible, without putting too much pressure on the hyper-sensitive nerves endings that he’d only just been devouring.

Finally, he set her back down on the mattress and stretched out alongside her, his legs tangling up with hers and the radiant heat of his throbbing cock resting atop her still-quivering thigh. One of his hands found the pale globe of her breast, softly massaging as her heart hammered under his tanned forearm, the contrast in skin tones nearly an artist’s study in the sunset light pouring through the hotel window.

When Becca had regained the power of speech and slowly unclenched her hands from the pillowcases above her head, she gave a husky laugh, traced his shoulder blade with a fingernail and asked, "You’re sure this is allowed on your training program?"

Oh, definitely.

Cam’s English accent had been what sealed the deal for her, as if his obviously honed body and inferred wry humor weren’t enough. Now she squirmed slightly to hear him speak again. She couldn’t say why it had such an effect on her, but her already slick pussy got just a little bit wetter at the sound.

She lifted her head, leaned into him and kissed him deeply, tasting herself on his lips. She sucked his lower lip into her mouth and swept her tongue across it until his answered and twined around hers.

His hip over her leg tightened, and his erection flexed and jumped against her skin. She reached a hand down to grasp his length and sweep a thumb across the smooth skin of the head. He groaned into her mouth.

Then I’m certainly glad to help you warm up, she whispered with a smile against his lips.

Act the Second

They’d both been at the deli counter at the upscale grocery, placing their orders.

Becca had seen him, noted the tight physique and marathon participant’s wristband, and then gone back to watching the clerk shovel broccoli salad into a plastic container. She rarely shopped here, but in the aftermath of a break-up just a couple of months old, she justified pampering herself in the interest of getting her appetite back.

Cam, a stranger in town, had come in to the first grocery he’d seen. His list was short, but general enough he’d known he’d satisfy it in a stop or two. His eye was drawn to her through the waiting and ordering ritual: the way she moved as well as how she looked. His appreciation was casual and would have gone no further, except that his cell phone had rung for the second time as he’d passed behind her, broadcasting The Imperial March through the deli department. She’d smiled at him over her left shoulder.

Great ring tone.

His mouth twitched at the corner. It’s the one I assign to the calls I don’t really want to take.

Her breath caught.

He reached past her to take the cooked chicken breast wrapped up in butcher’s paper. He never actually touched her, but her eyes tracked the movement of his hand and arm into and out of her field of vision, unconsciously leaning infinitesimally in his direction, like filings drawn by a magnet.

Becca let out a carefully controlled breath. She turned her head slowly back to the right and tilted it up a few inches to meet his gaze. Her eyes had gone slightly drowsy with her growing arousal and crinkled at the corners as she smiled at him.

His pupils dilated slightly, and he answered her smile with a lazy one of his own.

Each had assessed the other more closely in the second or two that their eyes were locked.

His close-cropped sandy hair; sufficient tan to belie the cliché of Brits who only burned and peeled; long fingers that deformed the paper around the chicken in the hand that hovered above the basket he carried.

Her sun-kissed, light brown hair gathered into a casual ponytail; natural complexion; whiff of something botanical.

Then, the deli clerk had cleared her throat, impatient for Becca to take her salad and move along.

Becca dragged her gaze away, biting her lower lip for an instant as she dropped the salad container into the basket on her arm. She stepped back from the counter and inclined her head at the plastic wristband. You’re in town for the race, then?

Yeah, I live in Seattle, but wasn’t available to do the one there last month. So, here I am, stocking up on food to get me through the night.

Shouldn’t you be carbo loading on pasta, or something?

He fell into step beside her