Foreman took a long breath as Amber cradled his head against her shoulder. "Mm. You are." This was so damn perfect--the only thing that would make it better would be if they could walk out into her living room instead of into the gym. As satisfied as he was, remembering where they were brought a flush to his cheek. Once he'd washed, he rubbed his towel briskly over himself and started to dress. Even that small exertion pulled at muscles he barely knew he had. A workout would be more focused in its effects. Sex, now and last night, seemed to bring out aches he didn't know could happen. Reminders of how good it had been, both times, but also the vaguely uneasy sense that he was giving himself over to things that he didn't know if he should want.
Ignoring that feeling, Foreman pulled on his shorts and jeans, then paused long enough to get his shoes on so he wouldn't slip on the wet floor. After throwing his sweater on, he packed up everything else, until all he had to carry was his gym bag and his jacket. The change room key was safe in his pocket. Foreman grinned, shame and satisfaction warring for the upper hand. There was no way out of it: he'd considered having sex at the gym a possibility right from the moment they'd arrived, or he never would have asked for the private room. It had a surcharge, above his membership dues, and it wasn't always available. He could've pointed Amber at the women's change room and gone himself to the men's, but instead he'd picked here. Anything that happened--if people stared at them because they'd been too loud--he'd just have to suck up and deal. It had been his idea.
"Ready?" he asked. "I'm starving." His stomach rumbled agreement. Felt like he'd already worked off that morning's omelette, rich as it had been. No better sign that Amber had worn him out, although Foreman kept that to himself. She'd probably think he was talking about the game, which she'd lost, or else only about the sex, as if that's all he got out of being with her. He wished there was some easy way to say I had fun that wouldn't sting her pride, but for now, he settled for a warm smile as he opened the change room door and started to lead the way out.
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Ignoring that feeling, Foreman pulled on his shorts and jeans, then paused long enough to get his shoes on so he wouldn't slip on the wet floor. After throwing his sweater on, he packed up everything else, until all he had to carry was his gym bag and his jacket. The change room key was safe in his pocket. Foreman grinned, shame and satisfaction warring for the upper hand. There was no way out of it: he'd considered having sex at the gym a possibility right from the moment they'd arrived, or he never would have asked for the private room. It had a surcharge, above his membership dues, and it wasn't always available. He could've pointed Amber at the women's change room and gone himself to the men's, but instead he'd picked here. Anything that happened--if people stared at them because they'd been too loud--he'd just have to suck up and deal. It had been his idea.
"Ready?" he asked. "I'm starving." His stomach rumbled agreement. Felt like he'd already worked off that morning's omelette, rich as it had been. No better sign that Amber had worn him out, although Foreman kept that to himself. She'd probably think he was talking about the game, which she'd lost, or else only about the sex, as if that's all he got out of being with her. He wished there was some easy way to say I had fun that wouldn't sting her pride, but for now, he settled for a warm smile as he opened the change room door and started to lead the way out.