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Runner Girl Ch. 01

By: DonnaBeck



This is the last story in my "Manhattan Girl" trilogy. There are 13 chapters, the story is complete, and the chapters will post in rapid succession. I would like to sincerely thank Gaius Petronius for editing for me, and IanSaulWhitcomb for beta-reading. I am extremely grateful to know you both. Votes and comments appreciated. 

***** 

The slight incline came as a welcome relief after miles of flat terrain, and the balls of Amy 's feet met the ground quicker with each rotation. Open space disappeared behind her back as she took the winding dirt path into the densely packed forest. Less foliage hung on the trees than the previous week, allowing sunlight to shoot straight rays through the gap and cast light on the orange and brown leaves that littered the ground. Morning dew covered the debris. 

As Amy approached the steepest hill of the route, she charged it, which really meant maintaining the same pace through the increased difficulty. She could hear her old coach's voice in her mind telling her to use her big muscles, her quadriceps, and imagine her legs lifting instead of just pushing off with her feet. She pictured strings attached right above the knees, pulled upward by a puppeteer in the sky, helping to defy gravity. 

Her lungs filled with cool crisp air as she reached the top of the rise, the 'summit', Amy laughed to herself. The highest point in Central Park, only about one-hundred and forty feet above sea level made it barely a hill, but at least it provided some gradient. And she was outdoors instead of on a 'dreadmill'. 

She felt grateful for her Saturday morning runs, the highlight of her week when she no longer felt out of place, but instead, precisely where she was meant to be. She found it remarkable that she could find this kind of solitude in a city of a million and a half inhabitants. A dirt trail through the forest, right here in Manhattan. 

The familiar smell of damp soil provoked a nostalgic feeling, intensified by a familiar song on the iPod. The motion of running tapped into something primal in her brain, a motor memory, the motion of running so secondary, that her mind wandered in creative freedom. 

Amy had reached her favorite part of her run; the downhill. Some runners complain about downhill running being hard on the knees, but Amy loved to feel gravity take some of the burden, and she increased her speed without additional effort. She kept a slight bend in her knees as she flew down the trail with the same speed and agility that impressed the native New Yorkers when she first arrived. "Be careful!" they had warned before they learned that she grew up on hills. Scanning ahead to see where to place her feet, concentrating and staying focused on proper footing , banking off the sides, jumping through the air - - she used her best skills on trails, where agility superseded speed. The members of the running club came to recognized her as a trail runner, not a racer. 

Just over six miles into her eight mile run, a break between songs allowed her to hear someone behind her yell, "Hey!" She looked over her shoulder and saw a blur of red shirt between the trees. Oh fuck, Amy cursed herself, how'd he get this close? She had been absorbed in her thoughts and had not maintained a fast enough pace, now she put herself in danger of being caught! She knew that looking back cost precious seconds, but in panic she took a second look and saw that him gaining on her. Fuck, she thought again, and tried to increase her speed but still maintain a pace she could sustain for the mile-and-a-half back to her group. The trail had become void of either walker or runner, which now seemed odd and scary, rather than consoling. 

She put her iPod on pause to increase her situational awareness, and could hear his feet hitting the ground and even his loud breathing. Good, she thought to herself, he can't maintain this pace very long. But he surprised her and narrowed the gap even more, causing her heart rate to increase from fear, a costly emotion she could not afford, if she were to outrun him. Amy had to dig deep into her reservoir and pick up the pace much sooner than she would have liked. She had hoped to have her friends in sight before she gave it her all. 

His breathing came closer. He definitely had a mind to catch her, and Amy began to really feel frightened that he actually might. Being chased tapped into a different motor memory, a primal fear that gave her a boost of adrenaline and she kicked it in even more. Her legs were burning, her chest on fire, and her mouth open, taking in and expelling air as quick as possible. Her cadence became full-on race-pace, as if the finish line were in sight, except it wasn't. She could hear him behind her, the sound pushing her to a pace she knew she could not sustain for another mile. She hoped he couldn't either. 

Amy came through the trees and out into the open field. She could see her group off in the distance, still about a third of a mile away and not looking in her direction. She was not out of danger yet. She heard him, right behind her on her left side, close enough to reach out and grab her. Her side ached and she knew she did not have a sprint left in her. They ran in sync for a few seconds until he pulled forward and passed her. Fuck, Amy thought as she watched the back of his red shirt pull ahead, he got me. I got complacent early in the run and he got me. The group had now turned to face them and shouted mixed cheers of "Go Amy!" "Go Keith!" "Get her! Catch her!" "Don't let him catch you Amy!" "Go, go, go!" 

Amy watched as Keith made it to the crowd about five strides ahead of her. Both stopped running but were too breathless to speak, so they stood panting in place as the small crowd of their mutual friends slapped Keith on the back and congratulated him. Keith couldn't answer, so he just returned the high-fives as he gasped for air while Amy did the same, still trying to catch her breath. She wondered if her exaggerated fear cost her more than it helped, not that she could control it, but it surprised her. She thought being cornered caused that response in her. Not being chased. 

"What happened?" her friend Miles whispered as he approached. 

"I slacked." 

Miles laughed and said, "And Keith got a lot faster. He's been doing speed work twice a week trying to catch you. Look at him; he nearly killed himself." 

Keith now lay on the ground with his arms outstretched, smiling with an open mouth as his chest rose and fell rapidly. 

"He's gotta' be pretty thrilled with himself right now. Catching up with Amy, even with your five minute head start," Miles whispered. 

"Yeah," Amy nodded and frowned. She didn't have enough air for conversation yet, but Miles knew how she felt anyway. 

"Aw, hey Amy, it won't be that bad. It's just one night and he's a nice enough guy. Man, he nearly killed himself to win that bet. I feel kind of bad for putting the idea in his head though." 

"What?" Amy looked at Miles for an explanation. 

"Yeah, I told him you'd never go out with a guy that couldn't out run you. But it was his idea to make it a bet." 

"It isn't about running, Miles, you know that. He is so not my type." 

"Yeah, I know, but it's only one date. Hey, the guy worked really hard for it Amy, just indulge him and have fun." 

Amy rolled her eyes at Miles, "He's convinced that once I see him in another light, outside of the running group, that I'll find him irresistible." 

"Maybe you will?" Miles laughed, but in response to her scowl said, "Oh, I don't know if he really believes that. Look, you just gave him a challenge and he rose up to it. The guy has shaved almost a minute of his mile. That's pretty impressive."  

"Yeah, it is," Amy smiled, her mood lightening. Keith was harmless, but her competitive nature made her angry at herself for letting him beat her. But then again, now that he had finally caught her she felt like she could have her Saturdays back, she could just run at her own pace and not have to push it every single Saturday. 

Amy smiled at Miles and went over to offer Keith a hand, helping him to his feet. "You did it, your training paid off and you beat me. Congratulations, Keith." 

Keith rose to his feet, bright red and drenched in sweat. "Keith beat Amy!" could be heard uttered over and over throughout the small crowd, and everyone knew what that meant. Keith received pats on the back and handshakes, all the while smiling like a kid on Christmas. 

"So, tonight then? Dinner, drinks, dancing?" 

"Um, no. Sorry. I already made plans for tonight. It'll have to be next Saturday," Amy answered. It was the truth. 

"I've waited this long, what's another week? Besides, I have a feeling I'm going to be hurtin' later today! Next Saturday I can run easy," Keith laughed. 

Amy laughed and agreed. It would be nice to enjoy a leisurely run, now that this ridiculous bet was finally settled. Well, it would be settled after she went out with Keith one time. Tonight she had a blind date, and next week a date with Keith. Two dates back-to-back after a year of not dating, and she didn't want to go on either one. 

* * * * * 

John knocked on the door to warn William of his presence before he used his key to open the door. William's loft consisted of one large room, so he could see two bodies in bed and greeted the two lumps under the covers with an obnoxiously cheerful, "Good Morning! Would you like some coffee, Tracy?" He knew William preferred tea. 

"Good morning," Tracy sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes, obviously nude, but being careful to cover her breasts with the blankets. 

William didn't answer, just grunted, rolled out of bed and took a naked walk to the bathroom. 

John laughed in amusement. He had cups of coffee in each hand. "Cream? Sweetener?" 

"Both please. That was nice of you. What are you doing up so early?" 

"I'm showing property around the corner before my client catches a flight. But it isn't that early, it's eight-o-clock. Hey, you know who you look like without glasses when your hair is all messy?" 

"Ramona the pest?" Tracy answered. She'd heard it before. 

"Who's that?" 

"A character from a children's book. It's the hair, because I'm certainly not a pest," Tracy stuck her tongue out as she took the cup John brought to her. 

William had just emerged from the bathroom, still nude but holding a bathrobe, "Are you trying to schmooze my woman with coffee?" 

John laughed, "Yes, I wish you'd stayed in the bathroom longer. I'm pretty sure she was merely seconds away from inviting me into that cozy bed, after I impressed her with my literary knowledge. Don't you think she looks like Scout from 'To Kill a Mockingbird'." 

William laughed, shaking his head and tossed Tracy the robe, walked to other side of the bed, and crawled back in. 

"Hey, that just gave me a great idea for that party!" Tracy exclaimed, "One of William's friends from the library is throwing a party, and everyone is expected to dress like a character from their favorite book. I can easily be Scout with a few freckles, overalls, and contact lenses. William can shave, do a dark rinse on his hair, add some glasses, and walla! Atticus!" 

William laughed and stroked his short beard, "You'd be willing to sacrifice this inner thigh stimulation for one silly party?" 

Tracy laughed and said, "Oh hell no, I better rethink this one," then changing tone to a coy voice asked John, "So, are you excited for our double-date tonight?" 

"That's tonight? Uh-oh," John teased back, earning a toss of a pillow from Tracy. 

"What are you wearing?" William asked John, who answered in a feminine voice, "Well I have a really cute outfit picked out, but do you think I should wear my Salvatore Ferragamo man-purse?" 

Tracy laughed, but William's tone turned serious, "You're the one who complains about attracting gold diggers, now Tracy has found someone who might be quite the opposite, someone who might be put-off by extravagance and you need to dress accordingly." 

"Honestly, I don't think Amy would even recognize a Salvatore Ferragamo label," Tracy injected. 

"Really?" John asked, "Hmmm. Well then it wouldn't matter what I wear, right William?" 

William groaned, "Just don't out-dress her." 

John looked insulted at that last comment, "Damn William, I'm not a complete moron about women." 

"Of course not," William answered. "But given your history, it is obvious you do require some guidance in regards to dating." 

John shrugged at this last comment. He admitted it to himself; his track record with dating was despicable, but he didn't have any expectations this date would be any different. He decided to appease Tracy who seemed to think this Amy would be a great alternative to the women he usually dated. Tracy showed him a photo of a very attractive red-head, but there was no shortage of beautiful women in New York. John sighed, feeling momentarily lost, but then he remembered his appointment and his attitude abruptly changed. The slump in his shoulders was replaced with erect posture as he said with confidence, "Well my dear friends, you two enjoy your morning. I'm about to go close a deal." 

* * * * * 

Three outfits were spread out on Amy's bed, but she didn't feel satisfied with any of them. Her lack of dating had resulted in a wardrobe suitable for camping, not the Manhattan nightlife. And her dressy clothes were all "teacher-appropriate" and not sexy at all. But did she even want to look sexy? She didn't want to give this guy the wrong idea. She only agreed to this blind date because she valued her friendship with Tracy and she didn't want to seem like a bad sport. She looked back over her choices and decided to text Tracy for her opinion. 

"What are you wearing?" She asked in text. 

"Dress with boots," Tracy texted back. 

Amy slumped down on the bed. Her new friend had an extremely hip fashion sense, and if she allowed herself to make the comparison, Amy felt like a frumpy old-maid teacher, instead of a stylish twenty-seven year old. She texted Tracy a sad face, and to her surprise her phone rang immediately. 

"What's wrong?" 

"I don't know what to wear. I don't have a dress that would be appropriate, but I don't want to copy you anyway." 

"Oh Amy, I always wear dresses just because I love them. You should wear whatever makes you feel attractive. Besides, this place is really casual. You could wear jeans if you dress them up, and you look really good in jeans. Girl, if I had your cute little bubble-butt..." 

Amy laughed, grateful for Tracy's helpful spirit and also for being called "bubble-butt", a term that reminded her of her friends from her track team who used to compliment her butt and even tease her by throwing quarters at her backside. 

"Hey," Tracy said, "Do you want me to come over and help you put an outfit together? I have a few tops I can bring. I think we are similar sizes on top, and then we can just meet the guys at the restaurant." 

"Really? You'd do that?" 

"Oh sure, it would be fun! I love fashion, you know." 

"Yes, I know. Thanks Tracy, I really appreciate it. I'm kind of nervous and it would be cool if we could get ready together." 

"I'll be there at five, okay?" 

"Great. See you then." 

Amy hung up the phone and smiled. This is why she agreed to go out. Tracy was the first woman she met since moving to the city who had a friendly disposition like her friends back home, instead of the New York cold shoulder. She cleared off the bed and took out two pairs of fashionable jeans and three pairs of heels. 

Hours later, the two left Amy's apartment, dressed, made up, and coiffed for a night on the town. As they walked over to a waiting cab, Amy shook her head in awe of how Tracy moved with the confidence of a fashion model, and wished she had even a tenth of Tracy's confidence. The pair turned heads, but Amy felt certain Tracy's bold style attracted the attention. 

"That halter looks so good on you, Amy. It looks made for you," Tracy said. 

"Thanks. I never wear anything like this. I always try to hide the fact that I have a small chest." 

"Pfft, who cares. Your arms and shoulders are amazing and should not be covered. Besides, that blue color really flatters your auburn hair." 

Amy smiled and thought about how she would have never put this outfit together if it were not for Tracy's influence. She convinced her to wear black slacks and strappy heels, and when she reached for a black sweater, Tracy said, "Try this" and pulled out a red wrap. It worked with the blue top in a way Amy would not have imagined. 

As the cab pulled up to the restaurant, Tracy pointed out, "There they are." Amy saw William standing out front with his friend and even though she promised herself she'd keep an open mind, her brain did a quick assessment that quickly put him in a class with ninety-nine percent of all men she met in New York; vain, materialistic, metrosexual, a non-athlete, and completely useless in a post-apocalyptic situation.

Runner Girl Ch. 02



Thank you Gaius Petronius for editing for me. There are 13 chapters in this series and they will post daily. Vote, comments, and emails sincerely appreciated.

*****

John watched Amy and Tracy exit the cab, and after greetings and introductions, the two couples were led to a table. John paused momentarily, giving himself an opportunity to fall behind and get a good look at Amy's backside, from her toned pale shoulders down to her nicely rounded bottom. Once seated, Amy and Tracy began talking about the writers group where they met. John listened as Amy encouraged Tracy to submit her writing, and he couldn't help but notice the way Amy's top lip curled up when she spoke. He found her even more attractive in person than her photo, so he told her so, but her perfunctory "Thank you" lacked luster. She must be shy, he concluded. As she continued chatting with Tracy, her passion for writing and teaching became apparent and she didn't seem to lack confidence or social skills. John realized that he mistakenly confused reserve for shyness, then something novel occurred to him; she isn't trying to impress me. 

Although cordial, John couldn't shake the feeling of Amy being distracted, like she'd rather be somewhere else. He wasn't insulted, just curious. Where would Amy rather be? She had a voracious appetite and laughed about it good-naturedly, explaining that she had run eight miles that morning. He tried to ask her about her run, but she shrugged it off. Apparently this was a typical Saturday for her? 

More conversation revealed that they were all transplants to Manhattan, with Amy hailing from Charlotte, North Carolina. Of course John and William were longtime friends from Chicago, and Tracy came from upstate. Later in the conversation she admitted that she hadn't been out at night for a very long time. Ah, an introvert, John pondered. A redhead, a southerner, and an introvert. He never really met introverts - they were so inaccessible - and there was no way he would cross paths with someone like Amy if it weren't for their mutual friend. But he realized that this would never go anywhere: they were too different. Not only could he sense that she was not interested in him, she seemed slightly annoyed. This awareness brought out a playful, almost obnoxiousness in him. The same feeling that caused him to relentlessly tease his sisters all through their teenage years. 

As he relaxed into his playful side, he decided to make the most of the evening and not even consider a second date. The fact that he wasn't trying to impress her allowed him to let his guard down, as well as giving her a sort of exotic but short-lived appeal. "Would you like to go for a walk?" He blurted out spontaneously and surprised himself. 

Amy looked at him thoughtfully and paused before speaking, "Well normally I would consider that a fantastic idea, but not in these shoes," she extended her leg to show the stiletto heels that he was already very much aware of. "But I do love being outdoors, especially while the weather is still mild," Amy added. John noticed a very slight twang to her speech. 

"What about a rooftop bar?" William suggested, "The Press Room?" 

"Oh, I love that idea," Tracy answered, and Amy nodded in agreement. 

The four crammed into a cab to cross the four city blocks and John felt her leg pressed firmly against his during the ride, but there wasn't any sexual energy coming from either of them. He merely felt his own one-sided curiosity about this exotic animal in his presence. 

The rooftop bar was crowded, but John slipped the host a big enough bill to obtain a table with a fantastic view. "Wow, we sure got lucky! Look at the skyline," Amy gushed. They ordered drinks, and Amy asked if anyone would like to share another appetizer. The woman sure had a healthy attitude and a lack of self-consciousness, which John found refreshing. But of course it further confirmed that she was not concerned with impressing him. 

It was a crisp night with visible stars, as much as one could hope to see in a city of bright lights. Amy gazed up at the sky, then closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose. Her shoulders relaxed, her nostrils flared, and John used the opportunity to study her. She wasn't the type of woman he was usually drawn to. She had a natural beauty, the type he imagined artists wanted to catch in a particular light, and he felt a sudden urge to take her photograph. 

"What?" Amy asked when she noticed him staring, "Do I have food on my face?" she joked. She was eating long cut cucumbers dipped in hummus. 

"No, but you do have some on your hand." He took her wrist, licked the dip off her fingers, and watched her eyes widen. A look of surprise passed over her, then a shift, something darker. He released her wrist and a smile curled up on one side of her mouth. She looked like she might say something, but the words never came. She just stared back at him with her lips slightly parted. Her expression was slightly amused and if she spoke, he expected to hear a playful, "How dare you!" in mock offense, so he grinned the way he always did when about to get in trouble for misbehaving. But she didn't speak. She continued to stare with a look that he hoped implied amusement. 

John glanced over and saw William and Tracy were also staring at him, and he knew William was going to give him crap later. Sure enough, as soon as they dropped Amy off at her apartment, William laid into him, "Good God, John. What the hell was that?" 

"She had hummus on her finger. I was just helping her out," John joked, and then added, "Seriously, William, I was just having a little fun. It's not like I'm going to ever see her again." 

"What? You don't like her?" Tracy sat up straight in the cab, obviously surprised and disappointed. 

"Oh, I didn't say that. She was really ... nice I guess. But maybe 'nice' isn't my thing?" 

"Well isn't that the point?" William asked, "You said you were willing to be open-minded?" 

"Of course I am, but the attraction wasn't there. She could hardly wait to get away from me." 

"She's just out of practice," Tracy said, "If you like her, you should get to know her a little more. I really think she is worth getting to know. Besides, don't you think she's cute?" Tracy asked. 

"No," John answered, "I think she's beautiful." 

"Ah, thank God," William sighed, "I thought you'd lost your mind, but instead you're just lazy." 

"Lazy? Ha! Do you realize I sold four properties in the last seven days? Do you call that lazy?" 

"I didn't say you are lazy in all matters, but when it comes to women you only take what is handed to you. Good-god, John, do some work. You don't even know what to do with Amy. Licking her fingers..." William shook his head in disgust. 

"She liked it. It was the only time she looked at me with any interest at all." 

Tracy giggled, and admitted, "It was kind of hot. Actually, it was really hot. I'll find out tomorrow morning if you blew it." 

* * * * * 

Tracy looked at her phone when she woke up and said, "Uh-oh." 

"What is it?" William asked. 

"Look." 

She showed him the text from Amy that read, "He sucked my fingers?!?!" 

"Crap. That self-sabotaging ass." William shook his head, "Do you think this is salvageable? It is obvious why you like her; she is a breath of fresh air, a genuine person. Why does John have to be so cantankerous?" 

Tracy smiled. She was touched that William cared about John enough to get frustrated over this. "I'll call her and see if I can do some damage control." Tracy made the call and said, "Hey Amy." 

"He licked my finger!" Amy whispered into the phone. 

"I know, and I'm sorry about that. It was...well, surprising." 

"Yes. Yes it was," Amy spoke slowly as if choosing her words carefully, "I had a sex dream about him last night." 

"You what?" 

"A sex dream. It's ... kind of upsetting me. Hey, don't say anything to William, okay?" 

"Um, okay," Tracy agreed. This would be difficult; she didn't usually keep secrets from William. "Why did the dream upset you? What happened?" 

"Well, I thought I was doing a damn good job not falling under his spell, until he licked my fingers and sent an electric current tingling through my body. That man woke something up in me that I'd worked really hard to suppress." 

"Wait? You liked it?" 

"Wasn't that obvious? I mean it was rude, cocky, presumptuous,... and hot. And he knew it too, that ass." 

"Oh my," Tracy laughed, "This is not what I expected to hear! I really thought you weren't attracted to him!" 

"I am attracted and repulsed by him at the same time, so it's pretty much a wash." 

"Why? Okay, first tell me what repulsed you." 

"I guess 'repulsed' is a pretty strong word, but I could tell right away that he was the salesman type, obsequious and conceited, saying all the right things, oozing with charm. He seemed phony. His confidence is disarming. Plus there is something about him that reminds me of a big kid. That cocky grin and those damn dimples. Damn, those dimples." 

"Totally repulsive," Tracy laughed, and she picked up her pen and jotted down the word as she asked, "Ob-see-quee-us?" She had no qualms about asking her English-teacher friend the meaning of a word and planned to add this one to her vocabulary. 

"Obsequious; courteous in a way that is expected but also fawning and servile," Amy laughed and apologized, "I'm sorry, Tracy. I know he is a friend of yours and William's and ... damn I just wish he would have kept his mouth off my fingers. I did such a good job of resisting his charm up until that point." 

"That bastard," Tracy said in mock seriousness just as William walked by and, hearing the word 'bastard,' assumed the worst and he shook his head in disgust. "Well, you told me what repulsed you. What did you like about him?" 

Amy sighed, "What's not to like? Everything I hate is pretty much what I liked. His confidence, his panache, those green eyes, and ... dammit Tracy, you should have warned me about those dimples." 

Tracy scribbled down 'panache' to look it up later, but didn't want to interrupt the conversation again. "What's wrong with being attracted to John? He's a really good guy, Amy. And yes, he is a good salesman, but ... well, that doesn't make him a phony." 

"But it means he is a master at small talk and he knows what people want to hear. And then there is the fact that he is so attractive. I think I'm just too insecure to be with a guy like that anyway. I'd rather have an average-looking guy with a lot of other redeeming qualities." 

"Hmmm." She wondered why it wasn't possible to have both, but that seemed like something Amy needed to work out for herself. "So, tell me about the dream?" 

Amy laughed, "It was kind of vague and strange ... and I'm embarrassed to tell you this, but I ... I guess while I was dreaming my hands were wandering ... and ... I woke myself up with an orgasm." 

Tracy laughed and backtracked, "Oh, I'm sorry, Amy! I'm not laughing at you. I'm just so relieved to know you are attracted to John. I thought he blew it." 

"I'm not relieved! And I'm not sure I am attracted to him. It's just that ... I haven't had sex in a really long time, okay? And then this hot guy licks my fingers, and... I pretty much hate him right now." 

"You'll get over it," Tracy assured her. "Hey listen, I'm going to go have breakfast with William, but I'll call you later." 

"Okay. Hey, thanks, Tracy. I did have a good time last night. It's just kind of ... awkward for me, you know? But I appreciate you introducing us." 

Tracy hung up the phone and went back to bed to join William, who was reading but had ear buds in to give her privacy. "Well?" he asked, looking up and removing the ear buds. 

"I'm not going to divulge any information because I've been sworn to secrecy, but you need to call John today." 

"Uh-oh. You don't think I've given him enough grief already?" 

"Oh, you have, in fact. Now he needs encouragement. We have to get these two stubborn fools to see each other again." 

"Really? So finger sucking on the first date is not a complete deal-breaker?" 

"Apparently the right woman can be very turned on by oral stimulation of her appendages," Tracy said with lowered eyelids as she parted William's lips with her two first fingers. 

* * * * * 

Well, at least I have something new to talk about, Amy told herself as she walked into her therapist's office and took a seat. "I had a sex dream!" she blurted out as soon as she sat down, "And it was weird, but it wasn't scary." 

Anne looked over her reading glasses and said, "Oh, this is good news, Amy. Your subconscious is healing." 

"That's not all. I had an orgasm." 

A wide smile spread across Anne's face. "Wow, this is wonderful news! I'm so pleased to hear this. And since then, any additional stirrings?" 

Amy smiled a closed-mouthed smile and nodded. "I should have said 'orgasms' with an 's.' It's bad, Anne, he's awakened the monster. I had to run five miles on my rest day, just to release some frustration." 

"Amy, do you realize you just referred to your sex drive as a 'monster'?" 

"Oh, I didn't mean that. It was just a lazy word choice. I don't really think of my sex drive as a monster. I know it's healthy and natural and I am not scared of it." Amy paused before adding, "Although it is powerful and seems to just come with a force beyond my control. Like a hurricane. Yes, a hurricane. That would have been a better word." 

Anne wrote something down on her notepad and asked without looking up, "And what were the 'weather conditions' that led to this 'hurricane'? You mentioned 'he'?" 

Amy's shoulders shrugged as she looked up at the ceiling. "Oh, you're not going to believe this - so much has happened since I last saw you! I went out on a date, and I have another date this weekend! But not with the same guy, I really don't like either of them, but at least I'm getting out there and meeting new people, like you keep suggesting." 

"When it rains it pours! So your weather analogy was a good one. Tell me about the date. Did you enjoy yourself?" 

"Well ... yes and no. It was a double date with that woman Tracy I told you about, with her boyfriend and his best friend. But he was not my type." 

"Well, what is your type, Amy? Give me an example of someone who is your type?" 

"You know, someone like Miles." Amy paused. "Except not married, of course." 

"And what is it about Miles, Amy? What draws you to him?" 

Amy smiled and sat up straighter. "Well ... Miles is smart, and kind. He's a really fast runner, but extremely humble. He's probably the nicest guy I've met in New York, always helpful and a little bit protective over me." Amy stopped talking when she realized how that sounded. 

"And he is unavailable." 

"Yes," Amy agreed. "Unavailable." 

"Have you ever considered that might be part of the attraction? Becoming fixated on someone you can't actually have to avoid intimacy?" 

"Ugh," Amy rolled her eyes. "Plus I heard myself say 'protective.' I hadn't thought about that until I said it out loud. Hey, that reminds me; I had another anxiety attack this week, but it was different from the others, milder this time. I was running and this guy in my running club was catching up to me and when I heard him chasing me I got the same symptoms, but it felt more like normal adrenaline, and ... I don't know, I just thought I should tell you. It is the first time it was triggered while I was running and being chased, instead of feeling cornered or trapped." 

"I imagine everyone gets a surge of adrenaline when racing." 

"True. I just thought I should mention it. You did tell me to let you know if I had a panic attack and what triggered it." 

"Of course. Now what about this upcoming date? A different fellow?" 

"Oh yeah. The guy that was chasing me. I'm definitely not attracted to him, but it will be good practice, don't you think? I mean, I trust this guy. I see him every week, and all my running friends know him and know we have a date." 

"I think this is very good practice, Amy. But did you ever tell your friend Tracy about what happened? It sounds like she would be a good candidate for the 'safe' person we talked about. That way you can text her and let her know you're okay, or that you got home safely. Wouldn't that help you enjoy the date more?" 

Amy nodded. "Yes. Yes it would. But I'm not ready to tell her yet."



Runner Girl Ch. 03



John weaved his way through the crowd and was relieved to find that William had secured a small table in the corner. "What's up with our bar?"

William shrugged, "A work party or something."

Their regular cocktail waitress made her way over and asked John if he would like his usual martini. After gratefully accepting her offer, John inquired about William's favorite topic. "So how are things with Tracy?"

"Things are going very well," William said. "We're going to Albany this weekend and I'll be meeting her family."

"Taking the train?"

William nodded and waited as the waitress placed John's martini on the table and exchanged pleasantries with him. He thought about the slip of paper Tracy had left on his desk. She wouldn't reveal the details of her conversation with Amy, but the Zen-like doodle and the words "obsequious" and "panache" drawn in a circle gave him a clue as to what transpired. He listened as John talked about his upcoming trip to London before asking, "So, would you like to see Amy again?"

John shook his head and laughed, "Oh yeah, sure. You must think I need my ego smashed." John noticed that William wasn't smiling. "You're serious? She's not interested in me. No big deal, it was a fun evening. She was a good sport after she had a few drinks in her, but we obviously are not compatible."

"I'm not sure I agree. Besides, she said we could give you her number, but only if you asked for it."

"She wants me to have her number, huh?" John ran his hand through his hair. This was unexpected.

"She wants you to ask for it."

John's sipped his drink while William remained silent. John was also silent and in thought, but then noticed William staring at him expectantly. "Oh, I gotta ask for it... Okay." His tone became wheedling. "William, may I pleeeeeease have Amy's number?"

"Do you want it?"

"Oh my god, are you on your period? Give me her damn number already."

William took out his phone and texted it, and resisted the urge to give too much input on how to conduct himself.

"Cool. I'll be gone for a few days, but I'll see if she wants to do something next weekend."

William nodded and stroked his beard, obviously about to say something.

"What?"

"Oh nothing. It's just that... I hope you will consider a different approach with Amy."

"Different from my usual charm?" John winked and flashed a cocky grin.

"Yes, exactly. She seems to value a level of authenticity that I know you are capable of but you don't show many people. Can you just remember that when you call her?"

John jokingly mimicked William's intellectual nod, raised an eyebrow, and tried to think of a smart-ass comeback, but then he remembered Amy's big chocolate-drop eyes and lush full lips and sighed, "Okay, I'll hand her my naked soul and let her kick the shit out of it."

"Good. I was hoping you'd say that." William lifted his glass for a toast.

Leaving the bar, the men headed in opposite directions and John decided to head home on foot. It wasn't far, but he was usually too rushed for time to walk. He thought about the turn of events that had occurred as he weaved through the pedestrian traffic towards the river. He hadn't really expected to see Amy again and his disappointment was short-lived, but now he had her phone number and the potential was unsettling. He knew Amy was not impressed by money, possibly even turned off by it, but what did impress Amy? And did he even care?

Then there was the matter of William's uncustomary pushiness. Was it just underhanded self-interest, the convenience of two friends dating two friends? William had never pushed him towards any woman before and even steered him away from a previous girlfriend's friend. Perhaps he should have mentioned to him that he was planning to see Sarah this weekend in London.

The sun was low and blocked by buildings, making it seem darker than it really was as he made his way to the Hudson. It was unusual for him not to take the most direct path to his destination, but he wasn't ready to go home yet. There were droves of runners and walkers along the river and he wondered if Amy ever ran that route. He could see the sun now, low on the horizon and playing off cumulus clouds, creating a remarkable spectacle of cascading pink, yellow, and blue tones. The lighting was spectacular, reminiscent of a Hudson River School painting. John decided to take a photo with his phone and momentarily regretted not having his SLR camera with him. He took several photos, including one of an old man sitting on a bench in front of a tree in fall foliage. He sat down next to the man and felt unusually introspective and gregarious at the same time. He looked at the half-dozen photos he had snapped, then leaned towards the man and said, "Look at this: have you ever seen anything this beautiful?"

"Of course I have. I was sitting right here looking at the same view when you took that photo," the old man answered crankily.

John laughed, "Yes, that's true."

The man seemed to instantly regret his rudeness and offered, "Amazing what can be done with phones these days."

"Yes. Yes it is amazing, isn't it?" John put his back in his jacket pocket and felt its weight against his chest.

* * * * *

Amy waited until she was seated on the subway to take out a stack of papers and check her phone. She saw another text from Keith asking more questions about what she might like to do on Saturday night. Can't he just plan the date? she wondered. He's the one who's from here.

She hadn't yet responded when another text came through. Amy let out an irritated sigh as she looked down at her phone and saw that it was a picture, a scenic photo of the sky and a man sitting on a park bench. She stared at the photo for a second wondering why Keith sent the photo, and then it registered that it had not came from the same number. Another text came through seconds later that said, "Hi Amy. It's John."

John. John sent me a text. A text and a photo. She didn't expect to hear from John. Tracy had not even mentioned that he had asked for her phone number.

Amy took another look at the photo. It was stunning. He captured sunbeams coming from behind a cloud with a majestic tree and a man in silhouette sitting on a park bench. He mentioned that he liked photography on their date, but Amy assumed he was just naming a perfunctory activity, the same way so many people listed 'hiking' as a hobby on their resume but never actually hiked.

She put her phone back in her bag and wondered why John had texted a scenery photo, of all things. She wasn't sure how to reply, so she made up her mind to wait until after the writers group to answer. She needed to go over the manuscripts one more time, especially since tonight was Tracy's first time being critiqued and Amy knew her friend was nervous. She looked over Tracy's writing one more time to add more accolades and realized that the steamy content of her writing was one of the weather factors contributing to the level-four hurricane of sexual desire that had been distracting her all week.

She arrived at the library expecting to see Tracy, but was surprised to see William first. "Oh, hi, William," she greeted him in the foyer. "I didn't expect to see you."

"Hello, Amy. Did you forget I work here?" William laughed.

"I guess I did. Or I was deep in thought. I'm excited for Tracy to get her first critique behind her. How's she doing?"

William laughed, "Riding the highs and lows of an extrovert who is overly dependent on external approval. She is self-aware and wants to be immune to the opinions of others, but that simply is not her nature."

"The group will be kind and constructive, knowing it is her first critique. Besides, what she has written is really good. She has talent."

"She has many talents," and then his eyes lit up as Tracy came through the door looking as vibrant as a bouquet of flowers. Amy smiled at her effervescent friend and the term "wallflower" came to mind, followed by, I need to update my wardrobe.

Tracy hugged each of them and said she was a bundle of nerves. "Hey, have you heard from John yet?" She asked, turning to Amy.

"Yes, just a little while ago, in fact. He texted me a photo."

William's eyes widened and then relief washed over his face when Amy explained that it was a scenic photo. "Oh," William seemed to sigh, "John is more of a Renaissance man than you might guess. He really is a talented photographer. May I?"

"Sure, I don't see why he would mind," Amy showed the pair the photo and they oohed and aahed before Tracy looked at William and asked, "Why would John do that? His first message to Amy is a beautiful scenic photo?"

William shrugged, "Perhaps you should ask?" He said, looking back at Amy.

"Okay, but we better go -- huh, Tracy?" The two women said goodbye to William and disappeared behind the closed door of the writers group.

* * * * *

John sat in front of his computer answering an email full of questions from a client when his phone rang. He was startled to hear a feminine voice say, "Hi, John. It's Amy."

"Hello, Amy. What a nice surprise. I was expecting a work call."

"Oh, you're busy? I can let you go if you're working."

"Of course not. I'd love to take a break and talk to you. I guess you got the photo I sent?"

"Yes, yes I did. Thank you. That's why I was calling... I mean it would be easy to just text back, but I wanted to ask you about it."

"Sure, what about it?"

"Well... it's lovely... stunning, actually. I just wonder why you sent it to me."

"Hmm," John answered. "Good question. I didn't think about it too much, to be honest with you. I took it the other night and was looking at it again earlier today and it made me think of you. Especially after what you said about the things you miss about North Carolina. I guess I wanted to show you that you can have that in New York too, you just have to keep your eye out for it."

"Did I say I liked sunsets or something?"

"No, you mentioned the tranquility of solitude."

Amy paused, surprised that he picked up on that tiny part of a long conversation. "Well that explains the photo perfectly. It is really lovely and now it's meaningful as well. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Amy. Actually, I should thank you. It got me thinking about how much I love to take photos and why. I wanted to convey a mood with no words, but I guess I missed because you didn't quite get it."

"Oh, I think you communicated it beautifully. I just wasn't expecting it and didn't know what to think. I don't know you very well, you know."

"We should fix that."

Amy laughed and didn't know what to say, but John spoke up. "So you won't mind if I send a photo once in a while if the mood strikes?"

"Not at all. I'd like that."

"Okay, I will. Hey, Amy, I've got to return some work calls, but thanks for calling me. It was nice to hear your voice."

"Um, okay. Goodnight, John."

"Goodnight."

John stared down at the phone feeling very pleased to have resisted the urge to keep talking. He grinned to himself thinking that William wasn't the only guy in Manhattan capable of practicing restraint.

Two days later he sent another photo. It was another cell phone pic, but when he converted it to black and white, even he was impressed. Light filtering through a window obscured by plants fell on an empty table with two chairs. There was a small vase with a few daisies, and an old-fashioned lamp with an exposed bare light bulb hanging directly over the table. The light caught his eye, but the wall really made the photo special -- an exposed brick column next to a wall of stone that looked ancient. He sent it to Amy and tried to focus on work. He considered the lack of immediate answer a good thing. Maybe she would call again instead of texting. It was hours later when her name rang on his phone.

"Hi, Amy."

"Hi, John. Another interesting photo, but very different."

"I'm a multifarious man," John laughed and Amy did too.

"Well I hope I don't disappoint you if I don't correctly guess what you were trying to convey."

"Of course not, Amy; it isn't a test. I'm not sure I know myself."

"Well to me this photo looks inviting. And intimate."

"Huh, that's a great description actually. I was buying coffee this morning, obviously very early by the way the light is coming through, and the table was empty. I don't think I've ever seen it unoccupied before, but the thought crossed my mind that I would love to be sitting there drinking coffee with you."

"Wait a minute, that photo was taken today? In New York?"

"Yes, a little coffee shop called 'The Smile.' It's on Bond Street in NoHo."

"I thought that was an old photo, something you had taken in Europe or something."

"Must be the stone wall. It is amazing, isn't it? So yes, 'inviting and intimate' is very accurate description."

"You have a great eye," Amy said. "And your love of New York is contagious."

"Don't you love New York, Amy?"

"I love/hate it," Amy laughed then diverted the topic before he could ask why, "Hey, do you ever take photos of people?"

"Sure, when they let me." John answered, thinking of a locked file of "personal" photos on his computer depicting ex-lovers in all sorts of compromising positions. "Why? Do you want me to take your photo?"

"Well, um... no... I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry, that was horribly forward of me to suggest..."

"Amy, don't apologize. Tell me what you have in mind."

Amy sighed, "Okay, well, I have this blog and I need some photos of myself running. This sounds horribly vain, and I'm... oh, I almost apologized again, sorry, I mean I'm not sorry! Jeez!... Anyway, the blog is meant to inspire young women to run and it is called 'Runner Girl'. I'd love to get some current photos on my blog. Maybe Central Park or along the Hudson, or... I don't know. Please don't feel obligated."

"Yes, you haven't posted a photo for over a year!"

"What? You've seen my blog?"

"Not until now. I'm sitting in front of my computer, you know. Beautiful trail, but whoever took the photo titled 'Lower McAlpine Creek' cut your feet off. Hmmmm, probably distracted by those green shorts. Anyway, yes, I can see you need my assistance. I'd be happy to help you, but I'm going to London this weekend."

"Oh, that's okay. I mean, at your convenience of course!"

"Well, let's plan on the following weekend. Would that work?"

"I'm doing that damn underwear run on Saturday, and I definitely don't want that on my blog! I just agreed to do it because my running group is cancelled because of the race and it's for charity and..."

"The 'underwear run,' huh? I've only been a spectator," John laughed. "It looks like a lot of fun though."

"It'll be my first time, and not my usual thing, but... well, I'm trying to loosen up." Amy laughed.

"Well, running through Central Park in your underwear sounds like a damn good start. So let's take photos on Sunday? In fact, let's get out of the city and take a little hike."

"Oh, I'd love that!"

"Okay, next Sunday we have a date. We will get some new photos for 'Runner Girl.'"



Runner Girl Ch. 04



John was in deep. Slinging one of her legs over his shoulder, he plunged his cock even deeper and watched her face intently as her eyes bulged with each thrust.

"Oh my god, you feel huge like this," she moaned loudly, "You're gonna make me cum!" Her tits bounced with each rapid plunge and he watched as her French-manicured fingertips rubbed a circle around her clit. Her precious dirty little mouth formed a perfect "O" as her eyes rolled back in her head. Her body trembled visibly while her inner tremors pulsated on his thrusting cock. Spasms clenched his dick as her back arched and she squeezed her own tit, moaning loudly. Increased wetness improved his slide and he didn't let up, not even when with one final shudder she signaled her complete satisfaction.

"Mind if I turn you over?"

She didn't answer, just rolled over onto her chest and knees jutting her butt high in the air. John smacked her sassy ass and she shook it at him, inviting another smack, but instead he positioned himself for reentry. He slid back in with force. "Aaaah" she moaned, "Yeah, John, fuck me. Keep fucking me like that! You feel so good."

He loved the look of her ass from this angle. It was indeed a very fine ass, but her tattoo distracted him. He smacked her ass again and then closed his eyes. He usually enjoyed the visual aspects of sex, but that annoying snake on her left flank seemed to mock him. With eyes closed, he lost himself in the feeling of sliding in and out and concentrated on the sensation until he could feel himself on the brink. "I'm going to cum," he warned and she responded with shouts of encouragement, "Yeah, fill me with your cum!"

He pounded into her, ignoring her encouraging murmurs and moans, which had also become annoying. Instead, he blocked out all the verbal and visual stimulation and concentrated solely on the warm, wet, tight pussy that engulfed his throbbing dick. He could feel the rumbling deep within as his orgasm surged through him and shot through his urethra, the release of cum leaving his body in wave after wave of blissful ejaculation, until finally, the last spasm ceased and he shuddered, then added a few quick thrusts to milk every last drop from his shaft into her pussy. Very carefully, he held the condom in place at the base of his softening cock and withdrew, then collapsed onto his back.

She leaned up on her elbow and looked him in the face, "So... who's Amy?"

"What? Why would you ask me that?" he answered defensively.

Sarah laughed. "Oh don't worry. You aren't in trouble, John. I know we're not exclusive. I'm just curious. You called me 'Amy' twice, you know."

"I did not! I'm pretty sure I said 'Aaaaaa Meeeeee', or maybe 'Ooooo Meeee.'" Had he called her Amy? He hadn't been thinking of Amy during sex. In fact, he had been working very hard not to think of Amy, and Sarah had been a welcome distraction -- especially since the two were vastly different.

"Oh no, it most certainly was 'Amy.' I thought you moaned 'Amy' in your sleep last night too, but I wasn't sure. However, I'm positive you called me Amy this morning." Sarah sat up and walked to the bathroom, then turned at the door and said, "Don't forget, you promised to take me shopping today," and closed the door.

John stared up at the ceiling. Honestly, he had not thought of Amy once so far today. Had he? Of course he had woken up in Sarah's bed and had only been awake for about forty minutes, during which time Sarah gave him plenty of opportunity not to think about Amy. But he had dreamt about her, not a sexy dream, but an unsettling dream where Amy faced some type of danger and he couldn't help her.

John looked at the clock and saw that it read 10:00 a.m., which meant 6 o'clock in New York, still too early to text her. She said she would be running in the morning, grading papers all day, then going to the Waldorf Astoria with a "friend" tonight. The Waldorf-Fucking-Astoria! What a cliché attempt at schmoozing a girl. Amy, Miss "I hardly ever go out at night," is going out with a guy from her running group and acting like it is not a date, but any schmuck who takes a "friend" to the Waldorf is clearly trying to impress her.

John weaseled out of shopping with Sarah by saying he has to meet clients, but agrees to pay for a new outfit, which includes a Fendi purse she already has on lay-away. He uses his newfound free-time to do a little exploring on foot and for the fourth time in seven days wishes he had his camera with him. He finds himself looking for a photo to take, but nothing seems quite right. Instead he stops at a Costa Coffee and decides to text William.

"Did you know Amy has a date tonight?"

He drinks the entire cup without hearing from William, so he decides to call him.

"Did you know Amy has a date tonight?" Not bothering to say hello.

"Yes, I did. In fact, she's over at Tracy's right now, borrowing a dress to wear this evening."

"What!"

"Good God, John, it sounds like you're jealous."

"What? No! No, of course not..., I mean... it's just that... well, who is this guy anyway? Taking her to the Waldorf? What a transparent attempt to get in her pants!"

William laughed and said, "Not her pants. She's wearing a dress, remember?"

John threw his head back and made an audible groan.

William laughed again and tried to console him, "Hey, John, you have nothing to worry about. She told Tracy she's not even interested in this guy, she's just keeping a commitment. Tracy said she's been asking about you -- a lot."

John's posture relaxed upon hearing this news. "Hey, is Tracy home right now? I want to call her and make sure she doesn't put her into anything too sexy. You know, this guy could be..."

"Go ahead and call her," William hung up the phone and shook his head, laughing at his friend's change of heart. He had forgotten what a competitor John could be and this certainly seemed to be working in Amy's favor.

* * * * *

Tracy looked through her closet for a jacket as Amy pulled the black dress over her head. "Hey, your phone's ringing," Amy said from under the black fabric.

Tracy emerged from the closet with a vintage jacket in her hand, and met her eyes. "That's weird: it's John. I wonder why he's calling. Hello?"

Amy watched intently as a grin spread over her friend's face. "Why yes," Tracy said. "I understand. Mmm hmmm... Oh really? And when did you become the fashion police?"

Tracy laughed, then listened, making eye contact with Amy.

"Well, I'll ask her myself." Tracy turned her face from the phone, "John says hello. He wants in on our outfit consultation. He wants to have some input on what you wear tonight."

Amy laughed, then said, "Why don't we let him vote on the three we have it narrowed down to? You can take a photo of these three outfits on the bed and send it to him."

Tracy explained her suggestion to John and then laughed and put her hand over the mouthpiece. "John says he wants to be sure. He insists on seeing the dress on you and not just on the bed. Shall we indulge him?"

"Yes, but tell him we need a little time."

Tracy relayed the message and hung up the phone.

"I don't have any make up on!" Amy squealed, shaking both hands in the air. She had come straight over following her run at the park and still needed to shower.

"Um, Amy... I don't think you have anything to worry about. He's calling from London because he is thinking about you, and he's worried about you looking too sexy on your date tonight. Girl, you're holding all the cards right now."

"I am? Um, okay. But really, would it be okay if we left my face out and just show the dresses?"

Tracy agreed and the pair started taking photos of Amy in three different outfits, each with flattering poses but with no head in the frames. When they were satisfied with the results, they texted three photos to John. Amy changed into a pair of jeans she'd had the foresight to bring -- a much better alternative than putting sweat-soaked running clothes back on. "Shall I wait for his opinion, or just take the black one?"

"Oh, he just answered," Tracy laughed as she read his response to herself and then re-read it aloud. "And I quote: 'No way, hell no, and don't you dare! Holy hell, woman! Do you own anything that could tone down that sexiness?"

Both women laughed and Tracy responded without asking Amy's input. "Sorry, John. It's not my fault. This woman is lookin' hella-sexy sitting right here in a pair of jeans."

Amy's phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey Amy, Listen, I don't mean to be a jerk. All three dresses look amazing on you, really. It's just... I had this weird dream last night, and... I really don't want to come across like a crazy-jealous guy -- I have no right, I know -- but... would you be willing to indulge me and just send a text when you get home from your date? Just to let me know you got home okay? I know, it's crazy, I hate to even hear myself say it out loud, but it would put my mind at ease. Even if you fall in love with this schmuck and bring him home with you, that's your business -- just send me an 'ok' or something. Okay?"

Amy paused hoping to just get one word out without her voice cracking. "Yes," she whispered and hung up the phone. She didn't look at Tracy right away because she didn't want to explain the tears in her eyes. Someone cares. Someone will know when I get home safely, even if he is all the way across the Atlantic. She felt warmth spread through her body and her lips curled up into a smile.

* * * * *

For the second time in eight days, Amy found herself dressed in heels and being taxied around Manhattan on a date she really didn't want to be on. She tried to take the advice of her therapist and Miles; be open-minded and have fun. "I'm not used to seeing you when you aren't all sweaty and dressed in Lycra," she teased Keith. He wore a suit and smelled of cologne.

"I could easily say the same. You look stunning, Amy," he said as he took her elbow and kissed her cheek.

Once he completely exhausted the topics of running and their mutual friends, Keith began his obvious attempt to sell himself. She found the conversation more stressful and depleting than running from him, for now Amy had to perform the precarious balancing act of acting interested, but not overly interested. The frail male ego that he placed in her open hand required that she not send out any false messages, but then again not come across as rude either. Amy knew the evening's outcome was not going to be to Keith's liking, but she hoped to escape without either of the two dreaded labels -- "bitch" or "tease". Keith's increasingly invasive body language seemed to rule out "just friends" as an option.

They enjoyed an extravagant dinner, followed by drinks, and then dancing at two different clubs. She enjoyed dancing for a bit, but after a while, she longed to get home, take off her high heels, and plunge back into the novel on her nightstand.

And she wanted to text John. He sent a photo from England earlier that day. It showed a man in a turban riding a bicycle, an eye-catching subject in itself, but once again, the play of light in the photo made it interesting. The sun hung low, casting long shadows and bouncing off wet pavement, which created a few sparks of light in the photo. The result created a dramatic and emotional photo, and Amy tried not to read too much into it and come up with the wrong impression. "What's the smile about?" Keith interrupted her thoughts.

"Oh, I was just thinking about an amusing photo a friend sent me from London. Have you been there?"

"No, not yet. I'd like to someday."

"Me too," Amy said and covered her mouth to hide a yawn that she could not suppress. "Oh my gosh! I'm sorry, Keith. I'm really not used to being up this late."

"Well, it is late..." Keith looked disappointed. "One more dance?"

"Sure."

During the awkward cab ride home, Keith scooted right next to her and started whispering in her ear about what a great time he had, how beautiful she looked, and how he hoped they could go out again soon. He tried to kiss her in the cab when they reached her building, but Amy averted her face so that his lips landed on her cheek. "Thanks, Keith. See you next week," she said as she exited the cab quickly.

Her heart raced as she hurried up the stoop. She watched the cab pull away with Keith still inside and exhaled loudly. Safe at home.

* * * * *

John had a fitful night, waking every hour starting at four a.m, again at five, and then again at six, but still no text from Amy. "It's two o'clock in New York," he spoke to his phone screen. "Fuck, Amy. Where are you?"

A text came through five minutes later with an answer to the unheard question. It read, "Home safe in bed, but Freddy can't keep his paws off me."

Freddy? What the...

John's phone chirped again as a photo came through, a selfie of Amy nuzzling a grey cat under her chin and showing a playful, happy, adorable face. John smiled at the photo. He had received countless selfies from women over the years, many of them unsolicited and most of them provocative. He couldn't count how many pairs of duck-lips, tits, or panties he had seen, but nothing quite like this photo. It showed Amy making a silly face and he never realized he could be such a fan of quirky cuteness. Or cats. He texted her back, "Hope you had fun. Tell Freddy to keep you warm until I get back."



Runner Girl Ch. 05



Amy stood in her underwear at the bench where she and Tracy had agreed to meet, as she scoped the crowd. Thousands of scantily clad people filled Central Park, ready for the "Underwear Run." Her own attire consisted of a sports-bra and racer-type bottoms designed to look like underwear by their markings. Amy had not run in anything so skimpy since her college track team days, but her outfit seemed modest compared to some of the brave souls baring their bods for charity in varying degrees of nudity.

She scanned the crowd again, hoping to see Tracy. It surprised her when her non-runner friend expressed an interest in coming, but she said she and William wanted to join in on the spectacle, even if in the end she just walked and gawked.

From a distance, Amy could see Miles and his wife, who wore a slip over her underwear and looked very classy. Miles looked decent in his underwear, but it had been his personality that attracted Amy anyway. A group of women in push up bras and real panties stood nearby, using feather boas as a passing nod to modesty. Then there were those who let it all hang out, including -- Oh my god! Tracy, William -- and John! Tracy hadn't mentioned that John would be coming, yet here they all were, strutting towards her in their underwear.

"Amy!" Tracy yelled as soon as she spotted her. Seeing her friends in their underwear felt bizarre, and while Tracy's outfit didn't surprise Amy, it sure turned a lot of heads. Tracy oozed sexiness without showing more skin than anyone else. She dressed like a sex kitten wearing black and cheetah vintage lingerie reminiscent of an old pin-up girl, accented with converse tennis shoes?

"Hi, Tracy!" Amy waved as they made their way over and through the crowd. She said hello to the men, who both hugged her. "You didn't mention you were coming," she said to John, who was resplendent in a pair of boxers, a tie around his neck, and proper running shoes. The boxer shorts and necktie were cut out of the same fabric. When they had spoken on the phone the day before, John hadn't mentioned anything.

"I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it, but I did everything I could to come see you in your... I mean, to raise money for this noble charity," he laughed. Amy blushed and crossed her arms in front of her body.

"Oh my god, you look so cute!" Tracy gushed, "And of course you totally have the bod for this." She stepped behind her and said, "Look, William, she has the Fruit of the Loom on her butt!" Turning Amy around by her shoulders, Tracy gave the guys the opportunity to see the emblem that made her outfit officially "underwear." She must have looked embarrassed because William, whose lean and muscular physique was covered by only a pink speedo, offered a view of his butt in return. A white cotton tail decorated his bottom, amusing Amy that he had both the confidence and the body to pull off such an audacious ensemble. She turned toward John.

"And why are you dressed so formal?" She made a point to keep her eyes fixed on John's face instead of his very distracting body.

John took the tie between his fingers and made a surprised expression, "Amy! I have a professional image to maintain, even on a Saturday. What if I see an important client out here today?"

An announcement came over the loudspeaker that the race would start in sixty seconds. "Do you mind if I run with you?" John asked Amy.

"No, that'd be great," Amy agreed with some trepidation. He looked to be in great shape, but she would be attempting an eight-minute pace and would need to concentrate to maintain her speed while dealing with the crowd.

"Cool, we'll meet you back at this bench when the race is over," Tracy said. "You two will have to wait for us since William agreed to run at my snail pace."

The starting pistol fired and Amy took off. She had not expected to run with John -- or see him in his underwear -- and it took her a few minutes to get into the proper mindset for running. The crowd remained so tight for the first four minutes, that they could only walk at a fast pace and Amy knew she'd have to make up the lost time later. John managed to stay at her side the whole time and once the crowd thinned out a bit, he started talking.

He's not even breathing heavy, she noticed as she gave one-word answers to his questions. He started talking about his trip to London and how he met with a client who wanted to buy an investment property in the city. All the while he said hello to spectators and joked with other racers along the way. She figured he would run out of air about halfway through the race. Then Amy overheard some guys talking about the fruit on her butt, something about "slipping a banana between..." and suddenly John fell silent. She expected John to drop back, but he stayed next to her as the guys passed, then he started talking again.

They were two miles into the race at 16:10 and Amy tried to speed up a little, but had to weave through the crowd and when she emerged, John appeared at her side again, chatting away as if having the time of his life. "Do you want to pick it up, Amy? You seem to have some kick left in you. Don't hold back on my account."

Amy didn't answer. It took all her concentration to look ahead for gaps in the crowd and weave her way through. They could see the finish line in the distance and she gave it her best sprint. To her surprise, John stayed at her side, even when she crossed the finish line in 23:50, completely out of breath.

"Great job!" John put an arm around her and she glared back at him, not quite ready to speak.

She took some water from a volunteer and kept walking while John remained at her side and went on about how much fun that had been, what an eclectic crowd, and how you really couldn't tell who would be fast by judging their body types.

Amy stopped and put her hands on her hips. "How the hell was that so easy for you? I'm supposed to be the runner!" She finally managed to blurt out.

"It wasn't that easy for me, Amy," John laughed. "I had to work hard to keep up with you, but I know this isn't your best distance. You're much better at longer races and you would kick my butt at anything over six miles."

"How do you know that?"

"I Googled you. I know your race times. Do you really think I would show up for an ego-beating if I knew I couldn't keep up?"

Amy glared at him, still breathing heavy although he seemed to have recovered. "You Googled my race times?"

John nodded, and grinned at her expectantly and bit his lip for a second. He wore that boyish grin, the slightly smartass look, with both hands resting on his hips. His bare and gorgeous hairless torso stirred her so much she had to look away. "Are you mad?" John asked hesitantly.

"Mad? I'm flattered. I'm starting to think you like me." Amy grinned back at him with her hands on her hips mirroring his gesture. She knew she looked good in her underwear too. "I'm just digesting the humbling fact that you are faster than me."

"Nah, I'd place really low in my age and sex division, but you won't. No, you're the runner here, Amy. I am just highly motivated to see you in your underwear."

Amy smiled and gave him a silly high-five, followed by a sweaty half-hug. They decided to wait at the finish line for a while and watch the runners come in and were surprised to see Tracy clock in at 34:00 minutes, obviously working hard, while William looked effortless. "Look at the crowd of gay men chasing that tail," John whispered to Amy and they both laughed that William had in fact drawn a crowd. "And he worried about Tracy attracting too much attention in her underwear," John laughed and they went to join their friends.

"Good job!" Amy hugged Tracy, who looked like she could die on the spot.

"That was so hard! I'm not going to be able to walk for days."

"I've got a car," John said. "You won't need to walk this morning."

"Really? Amy asked in surprise. "You drove here?"

"No, Amy, I was driven here," John admitted. He had decided to be authentic, and the truth was he had a driver close by waiting for them.

* * * * *

Amy tried to concentrate on grading the essay in front of her, but she had to restart four times. The events of the morning had her head spinning, from John unexpectedly showing up at the race, to the fact that he easily kept up with her while running. Then there was the matter of the town car. John said he had it reserved for the day since he planned on showing property that afternoon, but he seemed to be well acquainted with the driver, familiar enough to joke around with him in his boyish way. The casual restaurant surprised her too, a homey place called "Jackson Hole" right in Eastside Manhattan, which made no sense. John seemed incredibly warm and genuine at breakfast, and Tracy and William were extremely cute together. Amy felt much more comfortable around them this time and attributed it to the relaxed atmosphere combined with her endorphin-induced runner's high.

The driver brought Amy to her apartment and John stepped out of the car for a hug and to say that he looked forward to doing a photoshoot with "Runner Girl." Then the three drove off to their respective busy days while Amy faced the daunting task of grading essays.

Now, post-race and showered, Amy had forty essays to get through if she was going to go on a hike with John the next day, but she couldn't seem to finish even one of them. She re-started the same paragraph for the third time when her phone buzzed with a text. She smiled seeing a new photo from John, a puddle in the street that reflected puffy clouds on a blue sky and a bird flying by. He managed to capture a nature photo on a crowded Manhattan street. This one came with a text, "Second prettiest thing I've seen today" and Amy leaned back on her bed with a smile fixed on her face.

She decided to take a break on her bed and elevate her legs. Lounging on top of the down comforter, she closed her eyes. Images of underwear-clad runners flashed through her memory, but the one that appeared over and over again was the image of a shirtless John, hands on his hips, biting his lip to suppress a grin. Plaid boxers and a matching tie, she grinned to herself and sighed. Then she rolled over and opened her drawer beside the bed to take out her vibrator. Freddy stretched, yawned, and kept his eyes open. "What? Don't judge me," she said to her grey cat. "He has the 'V,' that magnificent V!" She gestured with her hands, picturing the masculine line of defined muscle that descended from John's hips to below the waistband of his boxers. But Freddy didn't judge. He thought what he heard was merely another cat purring, the sound of blessed contentedness.

* * * * *

John pulled up in front of Amy's apartment at 7:00 a.m, as promised, with a cup of coffee waiting for her in the cupholder. He sent a text letting her know he was double-parked, and in seconds she came out the door in shorts and a pullover jacket with a small hydration pack slung over one shoulder.

"You have your own car and a driver?"

John laughed. He expected to have this conversation and already made up his mind to be frank. "I use a driver and a town car when showing property, but I usually drive the Range Rover myself when I want to get out of the city."

"I could have picked a farther destination than Breakneck Ridge," Amy smiled. "I didn't realize we'd be driving. Last time I took the metro."

"Yeah, well, we can get to the back trailhead this time, and I know where we can get some amazing scenery for your blog."

"Thanks, John. I really appreciate you doing this."

"You don't need to thank me. You've combined two of my favorite pastimes and I am glad for the opportunity to get the camera out again."

Amy wondered if he really considered hiking a favorite pastime, while she focused on getting cream into the coffee he'd brought without spilling anything on the very luxurious console. They spent the drive talking about their families and where they grew up and the hour passed quickly. When they pulled into the parking lot, they saw only one car. "It's a lot less crowded on this side. If we want to get some photos on the rocky crag portion, we should do that first, or else I'll have to spend a lot of time photoshopping people out. The first train doesn't get here for a while."

"A trailhead this close to Manhattan could never be desolate. I'm always surprised when I find solitude in or around the city."

"Yes, but sometimes solitude is a state of mind. Ready?" He slung the backpack with camera gear over his shoulder.

"Yeah, sure, but what did you mean? Are you talking about the 'lonely in a crowd' feeling?"

"I know that feeling, but I was thinking about how I feel when I am alone in my thoughts, but not necessarily lonely. Like when I go out on the roof of a high-rise and look up at the stars. Sure, I'm in close proximity to about a million people, but I'm the only one standing on that particular rooftop looking at the stars from that particular perspective. Hey, you know what I like most about my job?"

"The money?" Amy teased, being cheeky.

"No, actually that is a byproduct of liking the job. Money-chasers don't do what I do."

"Well, what do you do exactly? Sell commercial real estate, right?"

"God, you've made me sound horribly boring," John answered. They were hiking up a narrow trail and he really enjoyed the view of Amy hiking uphill directly in front of him, giving a close perspective of her muscled up little bottom. "No, Ms. Runner-Girl, I love finding treasure. I love finding old industrial buildings and seeing the potential to make them into something new, while preserving as much of the history as possible. I work with investors with similar visions, those who don't want to tear them apart and replace them with something new and shiny. I appreciate those who see the potential in what is already there."

Amy turned around and smiled, "I knew that. 'Finding an agate among the stones.' You aren't the only one who knows how to use Google, you know."

John's face registered surprise, "My, my, Miss Amy McGuinness. I am flattered that you found me so interesting. That is a pretty lengthy article you're quoting from."

"Yes, it is. And Tracy told me you helped William get a unit in that building in Harlem." Amy had returned to face forward and continue hiking. "But I am referring to the part about you having a gift for finding gems. Was that story about the agates true or embellished?"

"It's true. It drove my sisters crazy that I always found agates among the rocks every time we visited Lake Superior. They even accused me of planting them there just to infuriate them," he laughed. "But I do have a gift for spotting them. The same thing applies to my ability to see a good photo, or a smart investment property for that matter."

Amy stopped and turned around on the trail, "What about people? Does your gift for finding agates among the stones apply to humans?"

John laughed, "Well... I guess being single at thirty-four means that either the skill doesn't transfer to people, or that I just haven't tried yet."

"Or maybe it comes so easy to you that agates are no longer considered precious?" Amy wore a teasing smirk.

The slope of the trail put them face to face. "Now why would you say that?"

"Oh, come on, John. Isn't it obvious? You're good looking and successful and very charming. The only reason you're single is because you choose to be."

"Is that right, Ms. Know-It-All?" He fought the urge to touch her as she stood only inches away from his face. "And how is it that you've managed to stay single all the way up to twenty-seven?"

"Oh, I haven't always been single. You just caught me at a good time." And with that Amy turned and sprinted ten feet ahead, then turned and said, "When are you going to take that camera out? You could've gotten some amazing photos already!"

"Yeah, I could have, but I thought I'd get in trouble for shooting a bunch of pictures of your adorable ass going up the trail."

"As long as they are flattering, I wouldn't mind," Amy turned around and winked at him. John took her offer seriously and brought out his camera. He snapped a few photos from behind, but they mostly captured the flexing of her calf muscles. Her legs in action had him mesmerized.

"Hey, Amy, this is a great background right here. Why don't you go up ahead and then run downhill towards me?"

"Okay," she agreed and took her pack off and set it on a rock and took off running.

John crouched down off to the side of the trail and readied his camera, then began shooting as Amy ran down the trail. She passed him then turned and asked, "Do you think you got any good ones?"

"I think so, but can you do it again?"

"Of course."

"But how about without your jacket?"

Amy smiled at him, unzipped her jacket and pulled it over her head revealing a sports bra underneath. She tossed her jacket to him with a devilish grin, then turned and bounded up the hill like a mountain goat.

He shot several more photos as she ran past him, her legs taut with sinewy muscles as she maneuvered her way down a rocky trail. "How's that?" she asked when she reached him again.

"Oh, I know I got some good shots for sure," he smiled at Amy and handed her the pack and jacket. "Shall we?" He gestured up the hill. She stood with her hands on her hips grinning and breathing heavily. Her chest had a sprinkling of little beads of sweat forming in her cleavage, so he brought the camera back up to his eye and snapped a photo.

She swatted his arm, "Who said you could take a photo of my boobs!"

"You can't interfere with an artist practicing his craft. Besides, it was beads of sweat, not boobs I was shooting."

"Weirdo," she said, but she kept grinning. In fact, he hadn't yet seen her smile this much. She seemed completely relaxed and playful in this environment, and further demonstrated her playful attitude by challenging him to keep up as she sprinted up the rest of the hill.

"Oh, wow, look at that," she said as they reached the summit. The Hudson Valley stretched out in front of them and John took out his tripod. "Here?" she asked. "I'm not sure we can get good running shots here. There isn't a long enough stretch of trail."

"I want to get a shot of you looking out at the valley like that. If you don't want to use it for your blog, that's okay, but standing in the morning sun like that, with the sweat on your upper lip..." John started taking photos again while Amy trained her gaze on the valley below.

"I didn't know you had a sweat fetish."

"I didn't either," John laughed. "It looks good on you."

Amy turned and grinned and he snapped a photo. The moment he took it he knew that it would be his favorite. Her natural behavior in front of the camera made her easy to work with. Or perhaps she was getting comfortable around him, a thought which made him smile in return.

"Hey, does that camera have a timer?"

"Of course it does, why?"

"I'd like you to be in some of the pictures."

He laughed, "Am I going to be on your blog?"

"Maybe," Amy answered with a coy grin. "But of course you have control over what photos you give me."

"Oh, I'd love to be featured on 'Runner Girl.'"

"Who said anything about 'featured'? I'll just pretend you're some hot guy I met on the trail." She teased.

John laughed, and said, "Why do I get the feeling that it isn't just young girls reading your blog?"

"Busted!" Amy laughed and actually blushed. "Okay, a few friends from back home might be interested in who I'm hanging out with. Maybe a scorned lover or two. Or three." Amy laughed.

"Oh really? Then let's give them something to speculate about, shall we?" John finished setting up the shot then took his shirt off, causing Amy to gasp. "It didn't seem fair that you're topless and I'm all covered up."




Runner Girl Ch. 05



"You show-off. I'm not topless."

"Wait until you see the photos I took of you before accusing me of showing off." John came and stood behind her and the camera clicked. "Your shoulders look really good from behind. This time turn your body towards me, yeah, like that. Now look over your shoulder at the camera."

Amy turned and placed her hand on John's shoulder for balance, then looked over her shoulder at the camera before hearing the click. "Again," he said. He had a tiny remote in his hand and took another photo. "Here, turn around," he guided her to the front and kept a hand on her hip and took another photo. "That'll get the boys back home talking."

Amy laughed and turned back around, facing him. "No fair. I'm in front and your body is hidden." His hand remained on her hip and hers on his shoulder as they stood on the rock facing each other. Both were breathing deeply and the sun behind Amy lit up her reddish hair, setting it aglow. Her big brown eyes looked up at him expectantly, full lips slightly parted and curving up at the ends. His free hand found her cheek, and she momentarily looked down giving him pause for a fraction of a second, until her eyes rose again and locked with his before gently closing as he lowered his lips to hers. His mouth landed on the soft pillow of her lips and rested there momentarily, but before he pulled back, he felt her other hand on his shoulder, inviting him to stay longer. He remained still and felt her lips with his as they curled up into a grin, and his did the same. A sweet giggle escaped her and filled his mouth. It was a spontaneous giggle of joy, rather than of self-consciousness. And to dispel any confusion about what she wanted, her hand on his shoulder commanded he not back off.

Smiles vanished and were replaced with hunger, as playfulness ripened into passion. Her lips parted in invitation, which he accepted. He dipped the tip of his tongue under hers and both tongues gently caressed each other. Hands began to explore the landscapes of shoulders and hips and even cheeks, until he dropped his hand down to her other hip and pulled her into himself, making full contact, feeling the heat of her taut body.

The sound of approaching hikers pulled them apart, breathless and smiling, but still in each other's arms. "Did you get a shot of that?" Amy asked, with her face lit up by a giant smile.

"No, I momentarily lagged on my photography duties. Can I get a redo?"

She gifted him with another sweet laugh before coming in for an additional kiss, and John clicked three photos before the hikers arrived exclaiming, "Wow, look at this view!"

"It is breathtakingly beautiful," John whispered before backing up to greet the small crowd that joined them on the summit.



Runner Girl Ch. 06



John stared mindlessly at the bottle of beer as he rotated it around in his hand, until William slid into the booth across from him. "Well?" his friend asked.

John raised his eyebrows as if he didn't know what William meant.

"Amy? Hiking? Photos? How'd it go?"

John shook his head, trying to form an answer. "I don't know," he said in frustration. "It started out great. I mean really great. We had a fantastic time and Amy was warm, flirty, and a lot of fun. We hiked and I took photos and then we had lunch out there before heading back."

"And?"

"I don't know what happened. I don't know what I did or said that turned her off, but at some point during the drive back, her demeanor completely changed. She got quiet and... I don't know. She was really flirty and passionate on the trail."

William's eyebrows shot up and John dropped the pretense of not grasping the question.

"Yes, passionate. We kissed. We kissed a lot and it was amazing. You know, she really warmed up to me, but maybe she has an aversion to the city. Once we got close to home I could feel the temperature in the car drop and a pall settled over us. There was a palpable tension, not a good tension."

"What happened when you got back to her place?"

"Imagine this stroke of luck: I pulled up to her apartment right as a car pulled out and I snagged a parking spot, right on her doorstep. I wanted to walk her up to the door."

"And get invited in?"

"Yeah, maybe. But I wasn't counting on that. She had mentioned needing to grade a bunch of papers, but I thought I'd be able to take my time saying goodbye, kiss her some more, and make plans to get together again, but she acted extremely jittery and nervous, didn't want to kiss me, and then I got the Heisman Trophy." John held out a stiff arm, demonstrating the "Back off!" gesture.

"An aversion to public displays of affection perhaps?"

"But she had been a fireball all morning. We kissed in front of people at the summit, even in the restaurant. Besides, there was more to it than just not wanting to kiss at the door; she couldn't get away from me fast enough."

"Hmm. Do you think she might have been nervous that you'd want to come in?"

"Yeah, that could be, but her reaction was pretty extreme. I didn't ask to come up and... it just seemed so hot and cold, like two different people."

"Have you talked to her since?"

"No. No, I haven't. I'm not sure what to do. I guess I'll edit her photos and use that as an excuse to talk to her, but I don't know. I can't read her at all."

"Do you want me to see if Tracy knows what happened? Maybe they talked."

"No, don't involve Tracy. I don't want to hear from you two how I blew it, if I did. Besides, I'm not a moron about women. We really hit it off and were enjoying each other's company. I'm certain she liked kissing me, and from what I can tell I didn't say anything offensive at lunch. I think I'm just going to ask her what's up."

* * * * *

Amy checked her phone for the third time since leaving work, but still nothing. Her heart sank. No text or call from John since their hike and the more time elapsed, the more it was confirmed that she blew it. She allowed herself to really feel something for someone special, then panicked at the chance of intimacy. Will I ever bring myself to close the final gap? All the work she had done in therapy with Anne built up to the false impression that she was healed. Instead, Sunday demonstrated just how damaged she still was. Not only had she panicked, she knew she must have come across as a hot-and-cold freak, or a tease, or... she didn't even want to think any more about the possible impressions she had left John with.

She knew what she needed to do, even though she hated it: she needed to explain her actions. It wouldn't change things, but she couldn't stand the thought of being called a tease again. She'd rather acknowledge being screwed up in the head, than to be branded a tease. She called and left a message on his voicemail asking him to call back. Then she laced up her shoes and headed out the door hoping for a mind-clearing run.

The brisk weather and crowded streets were both a deterrent, but still preferable over the gym. The path along the Hudson was the closest place to run where she wouldn't be bothered by traffic lights. She had to run through twelve stoplights just to get there, running in place while waiting for lights to turn. It wasn't until she reached the running path and found a good groove that her mind began to process what she might say to him, provided he even wanted to talk. Anne suggested just laying out the whole mess before him. If nothing else, Anne said, it would be good practice, but Amy wanted to wait and see how he reacted. She'd take her cues from his response.

Her legs were achey from the Underwear Run and the hike, and the soreness a welcome distraction. It felt good to run when she could feel her tight muscles loosening up with warmth. She stepped up her pace, and felt the strength in her legs, as she asserted dominion over her body to make up for the powerlessness she felt in her mind.

* * * * *

John sat at the corner table drinking coffee while waiting for Amy. The restaurant provided the intimate atmosphere she had requested when she asked to talk to him. It had been a mystery-laden conversation, where she asked to meet somewhere public that also afforded them privacy.

He planned to call her anyway. The photos were edited and it gave him and excuse to get together, but she didn't seem interested in the photos at all. He would find out soon enough. He half expected her to ask for her photos and then say she'd decided they were incompatible, and he braced himself for the blow.

And then she appeared. She walked through the door into the restaurant and scanned the room. Her hair hung over her shoulder in a loose braid and she had on what looked like a conservative work dress, until she casually removed her cardigan revealing completely bare shoulders. John rose from his seat and made his way over and when her eyes met his, her face lit up in a smile. His heart leapt, knowing the dress and smile were both for him. Perhaps he wasn't dead in the water after all, but could he handle the peaks and valleys of Amy McGuinness?

"Hi," she smiled warmly, circled her arms around him, and held him close.

"Well, hi, Amy. I didn't expect such a warm welcome."

The smile faded, and instantly he regretted his words.

"I know, John. You have every right to be confused by my behavior."

He sighed in relief. At least she knew. "Come on, let's have a seat."

She surprised him again by nestling up next to him in the ample booth, then resting her head on his shoulder for a moment before straightening up. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. "I need to talk to you about something, and it's going to be difficult for me."

A waitress came and took Amy's drink order while John's mind pondered what she might say. Herpes seemed plausible. Maybe an ex she wasn't quite done with. That would be worse than herpes, actually.

"Look, I'm just going to jump right into this and... well, it's a big deal because I don't tell people about this, but it seems that by not telling you I am probably giving you the wrong message." She looked down at the table as she continued to speak. "Last time I had sex was about a year ago."

He waited.

"It was against my will." Her face returned to his and her eyes met his briefly, then looked away. "I was date-raped."

His hand went naturally and spontaneously to her shoulder, and he pulled her into an embrace. She remained there, even when the waitress brought her drink and placed it on the table, as John shot a glance that said, "Just leave it." Her breath warmed his neck and he knew he would remain in that position until she pulled away. When she finally sat up, she looked at him apologetically and said, "I'm sorry. My behavior on Sunday must have been really confusing."

"It was," he agreed. "But don't be sorry. I'm sorry, Amy. I'm so sorry that happened to you."

"Do you want to know what happened?"

He wasn't sure. After an immediate reaction of sadness for her, he felt a hot wave of anger. Rage. But it seemed better to know the circumstances rather than to speculate.

"I do. But only if you want to tell me."

Amy took a drink and glanced around the room. "I think I do. I mean, I thought I'd dealt with it, that I was over it, but the fact that I freaked out on Sunday makes me think I better just tell you. Certain things might make better sense if I do."

John braced himself.

"Well, you know I moved to the city because my college boyfriend got a job here. After we broke up, I wanted to prove to my friends and family back home that I didn't come to New York just for Dave. I wanted to stay and make a life for myself, and luckily I had a great job, but no friends to speak of. All the teachers at my work are older or married and... well... I joined a running club, which has been great, but I also tried internet dating."

"Of course. That's what everyone does these days."

"Yes, well... I guess I was pretty naïve about a few things. I went on a few dates that were no big deal, no real chemistry. A few nice guys, a few jerks, but no one I really clicked with. I guess that after a while I started to feel over-confident and..."

John waited. Amy took another drink then seemed to retreat into thought. "This guy acted different, in a good way," she eventually blurted out. "I really liked him and... we had chemistry. I kissed him and things got pretty heavy and heated. We were drinking and making out and... I did like him, but I wasn't drunk and I wasn't planning to have sex. I thought we could just kiss and, you know,... stop there."

"Of course. You can. You can stop anytime, Amy."

"Well, Don didn't think so. Don thought that kissing like that guaranteed sex. I let him take me home in a cab. When he got out with me, I thought he was just going to walk me to the door, but he paid the cab and the driver took off. I asked why, and he said he wanted to come up. I told him no, and he got kind of pushy, saying he just needed to use the bathroom and told me not to be weird about it. I thought maybe I seemed like... like someone from North Carolina, you know? Like maybe people in New York were more casual about... and..."

"And so you let him in?"

"Yes." Amy looked down at her lap. John felt anger welling up inside him but knew not to show it. He took Amy's hand under the table. "So he used my bathroom and when he came out, he... he tried to kiss me again and I started to get this weird feeling -- this vulnerable feeling -- because he was in my apartment and I didn't want him there, so I offered to walk him back downstairs and he very matter-of-factly told me he wasn't leaving."

John consciously tried to relax his clenched jaw. "Okay. So what did you do?"

"I told him to leave and he told me to quit being such a bitch."

His left hand clenched into a fist, while his right hand gently caressed Amy's.

"He started calling me a tease over and over, saying the way I kissed him at the bar told him I wanted it. It was wrong, he said, to lead him on like that, to tease him. I tried to get around him, I wanted to get out the door myself, but he kept blocking me and wouldn't let me pass... Ouch, John." Amy pulled her hand up. "Am I upsetting you?"

"Yes, Amy, I am getting upset. But... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to squeeze your hand so hard."

"This is upsetting, isn't it?"

"Please don't apologize to me. I can handle it. I'm just... Go on, okay?'

"Um, okay. Well, I told him to let me pass, then I threatened to scream and that is when he put his hand over my mouth." Amy paused. "But he might have been planning this all along, because he had a bandana in his pocket that he shoved into my mouth."

John exhaled loudly, and shifted in his seat. He could hardly take listening to this, but knew that he needed only to listen, and Amy... Amy actually experienced it. He saw a tear run down her cheek and he spontaneously reached up to wipe it away. She turned and looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears. He didn't know how much more he could take. He wasn't sure if it was mercy on her part or if she had reached her limit, but she spoke only one more sentence. "He left four hours later." And she buried her face in his shoulder and remained there as time stood still. It might have been two minutes, it might have been twenty, as he gently stroked her back and thought loving and murderous thoughts simultaneously.

She finally lifted her face and met his eyes again, and said, "I'm sorry to dump this on you, but that's why I freaked out on the way home. I haven't dated since then -- except for my dinner with Keith a couple of weeks ago, and that was to pay off a bet."

"Oh, Sweetheart," his hand came up and stroked her cheek. "Please don't apologize for any of this ever again. I'm sorry, Amy. I'm so deeply sorry that someone hurt you." He wanted to say more, but stopped. It felt like his emotions were getting shaky and his voice might betray him.

Amy sat up straighter and asked, "Do you want to know what happened after that?"

"Only if you want to talk about it."

"He got caught, but not because of me. I was the biggest idiot of all. All I had was a description of him and a fake name. He raped another girl a few months later. This girl had a friend she normally checked in with when she got home safely, but when she didn't, her friend called the cops. Of course the cops didn't do anything, so she went over there herself and banged on the door until a neighbor called the cops. He's in jail now."

"Wow. Thank God for friends like that, huh?"

"Yeah..." Amy nodded slowly. "No one even knew I was out on a date. I was the perfect victim. The stupid southern girl who broke all the rules. The female cop who interviewed me afterwards gave me a stern lecture about internet dating, like I'd ever even consider doing that again."

"Wow. God, Amy, I'm so sorry."

Amy made an attempt at a half-smile. "New rule: you're not allowed to apologize either."

John nodded slowly and didn't know what to say except sorry or how fucking pissed he felt, so he started looking ahead, thinking aloud about what it would mean. "We can take things slowly, Amy. I'm glad you told me this, as much as I hate knowing. We can... well, whatever you want, whatever you feel comfortable with. I'm in no hurry to push things along and I want you to..."

Amy leaned forward and kissed him, an urgent kiss, a "Shut up!" kiss that turned long and passionate, and when she pulled away, both of them were breathless. "Thank you," Amy whispered, shyly looking down at her lap before meeting his eyes again. "Thank you, John."

John scratched his head. "Um... you're welcome?" he laughed.

Amy grinned at him and said, "I feel a lot better. I feel like there is hope for us."

"Well of course there is, Amy. Isn't it obvious I'm crazy about you?"

"Yes, I mean, I thought so. But that was before you knew. I... didn't know if it would change things and I dreaded the thought of telling you."

John took her face in both hands. "I'm still crazy about you. But now I know that something horrible happened to you and it makes me feel so much. I'm going to do my best, Amy. I'm going to do whatever I can to make you feel secure and to show you that you can trust me, that you are safe with me."



Runner Girl Ch. 07



Amy and Tracy sat whispering on John's couch, while the men worked in the kitchen. "I'm still getting over the shock of this place," Amy whispered to her friend.

"I know," Tracy agreed. "I can fit my apartment in her about five times."

"At least as many for me," Amy laughed. "So it looks like William's super comfortable in the kitchen? And John's being a good sport?"

"He's trying to impress you," Tracy winked.

"Little late for that. I'm officially smitten."

Tracy sipped the wine she held in two hands as if it were actually a warm cup of coffee. "I thought you would if you got the chance to really know him. I'm still getting to know John myself, but William thinks very highly of him."

The women exchanged glances as John entered the room and took a seat next to Amy, "Are you girls talking about me again?" he teased good-naturedly.

"You wish. We're talking about writing, of course." Tracy winked at Amy.

"Ah, when do I get to read something you've written, Amy?"

"Well, anytime. You haven't asked about it before now."

"Really? That's funny, I've thought about it, but I guess I never asked. And of course I've read your blog. Speaking of which, are you ready to look at some photos?"

"Sure, but I don't want to bore William and Tracy."

"We don't bore easily," William said as he entered the room, a dish towel tucked into his waist for an apron. "I'd love to see them, and dinner won't be ready for at least thirty more minutes."

John picked up the iPad from the coffee table and said, "Okay, let's have a look."

"What happened to your hand?" Amy asked, noting a large blister along the web between his thumb and forefinger.

"Batting cages with William," John answered as he started tapping icons on the screen.

"Oh, you play baseball?"

"Not really, William's the ball player. I just felt like batting this past week."

"John is modest," William said, looking at Amy, "He is athletically gifted, but not committed to any one sport like you and I."

"Yeah, I realized that. He can just show up and run eight minute miles like it's no big deal," Amy laughed. "Thanks for reminding me."

"Then you empathize with how I felt when he asks if I'll meet him at the batting cages, and proceeds to hit for two hours straight. I could barely lift my arm the next day and I'm used to batting, but John gets a little obsessive sometimes."

Amy nodded, looking at John.

He felt her starring, but didn't look up. "Hitting baseballs is an effective anger management strategy that can keep a man levelheaded. It's documented."

Amy nodded again, but didn't speak.

"That's true," William said, turning to Amy again, "But I am sure there's a point where it becomes counter-productive, especially when you have torn up your hands, have blood dripping off your elbow, and still won't stop swinging."

"You've got the advantage of having the necessary callouses," John joked with William, as he kept his eyes on the screen.

"Noted. I guess if smacking baseballs for hours on end prevents you from losing your temper with a client, then your bloody hands were well worth it."

"I didn't feel angry at my client," John said, "Okay, here we go. Look at this one."

Photos of Amy running scrolled across the screen as the friends oohed and aahed at the scenery, the photography, and the beauty of Amy running through a forest. "Stunning, beautiful, gorgeous," they repeated over and over.

"Wow, John. These are amazing. You really are talented."

"Thanks Amy. I had fun doing this. Do you see anything you might use for your blog?"

"Are you kidding? I want to use a bunch of them!" Amy beamed, at John who returned her smile.

"Aww, you guys are so cute," Tracy said, "Oh my, look at that one! What a hottie."

John paused the photo of them kissing on the summit and Amy flushed with embarrassment, while John said, "I know, right? Our first kiss. Damn, look how good Amy looks here." Amy swatted his arm, pretending to be shy, but she loved the photo too.

"Wow, not many people have their first kiss documented with a stunning photo on top of a mountain," William pointed out.

"It's just a hill," Amy corrected. "And that's technically our second kiss that you are looking at," Amy said, but still beaming.

"Just a hill," John nodded with a smile, and then tapped the screen to continue the scrolling photos.

* * * * *

A fine meal of roasted chicken, drinks, and after dinner conversation finally led to Tracy yawning and William suggesting they be on their way.

"Do you want to share a cab with us?" Tracy offered.

Amy looked at John to see if she could gauge his expression, but found it unreadable. "I think I'll stay a little longer, if that's okay with you?"

John's smile said more than his words, which came out as, "That's more than okay with me."

And so the two couples said goodbye and Amy nestled up next to John on the couch to have another look at the photos. "I have a few I didn't show them. A few personal favorites."

"Ooooh, you better show me!"

John brought up a photo showing beads of sweat glistening on Amy's chest above her sports bra.

"Wow," Amy blushed. "If I didn't know that was me, I'd say that is a pretty hot picture."

"Knowing it is you makes the photo extra hot to me."

Amy turned her face to him, close enough to kiss, but he spoke instead. "I want to show you a few more. I've narrowed it down, but I want you to help me pick the ten best. Like these two, for example. Which do you prefer?"

"They're almost identical."

"Yes, but look at your foot here, the way you are up on you toe. I think it is a better photo of your leg, plus I like the sun beam in this one."

"Yes, you're right. I wouldn't have noticed that. You have a great eye for detail."

"I do have a great eye for beauty. These photos are absolutely stunning, you know that? I've already looked at you about a hundred times." John's brought his hand to Amy's face, his fingertips traced her jawline, and his lips met hers.

"John," she said, taking his hand in hers and examining the blisters, "What made you so angry this week? Did you get upset because of what happened to me?"

John diverted his eyes before answering, "Yes."

Amy remained quiet.

"Sorry Amy. I know this isn't about me, but ...yeah...I've had a harder time dealing with it than I expected. I've been pretty...extremely angry." He looked back at her with a sorrowful expression.

"No need to apologize. I know I come with a lot of baggage. I'm sorry to inflict that on you."

"Aww, don't say that Amy. That sounds like you've burdened me or something. It's not like that at all. I mean, yeah, it's had a really big effect on me, but you're the one that had to go through that experience. And I...I don't know how much it still bothers you. I also...well...we don't have to talk about this if you don't want to."

"No, no, I think we should. I've had a year to deal with what happened and you just learned about it, and... I'm okay talking about it."

John fidgeted in his seat before going on, "Four hours, Amy? That's been totally fucking with my head. I mean...I don't know what the average assault time is, but...fuck...four hours? It's been killing me."

Amy took her turn at squirming. "Do you want details?"

"No! I mean...no, I don't, I just...fuck Amy, I don't know."

"I skimmed over the actual rape. I thought it would be better not to go into details, but now I can see that not knowing could be even worse."

"Did he hurt you really bad? I mean physically? Did he hit you or..."

"I'm going to just tell you what happened, okay? I'd rather just get it out once, rather than have your imagination go crazy trying to fill in the details."

Amy backed up on the couch slightly, "After he stuffed the bandana in my mouth, he pushed me on to the bed and held me down and I wiggled and strained to get up, and he just laughed at me. His strength overpowered me and he kept laughing as I tried and tried to fight him. His laughter felt scary, not playful. Like a cat tossing around a mouse until the mouse wears himself out. I actually tried being still a few times, to muster up my strength, but it didn't work. Not being able to scream or yell or even speak drove me crazy. I tried, but couldn't make my voice loud enough, and the bandana made me gag. I had to breathe through my nose and ...I kept thinking if I could speak, I could talk him out of it, you know? Like I could reason with him, make him think of me as human. Being stifled felt... just horrible." Amy's eyes filled with tears and she took a drink of her water.

John stroked her arm and said, "You don't need to go on, Amy, I'm sorry. Let's just drop it, okay?"

"You apologize too much, John. This isn't your fault and it isn't my fault either. I just want to get it out in the open, okay?"

"Sure. Go on." John stiffened his jaw and straightened his back.

"So I guess that went on for about twenty minutes or so, and it seemed like foreplay to him? Seeing me squirm and feel powerless? Because he didn't do much except lie on top of me and grope me a little bit and inhibit me from getting up. Then he took his belt off." Amy took another swig of water. "And wrapped it around my wrists, followed by a little speech about how I could make it really easy or really hard on myself. He took his shirt and tied it to the belt and to my headboard."

John shook his head and closed his eyes, "Right on your own bed." It wasn't a question, just affirming the grim facts.

Amy nodded, staring at John's hand resting in her lap. She gently traced her finger over the blisters and he fought to relax his hand in spite of every muscle in his body tightening.

"Anyway, he basically just took my pants off and stuck it in. Sorry to be so crude, but that's just what happened. And yeah, it hurt, but ...that part not as much as you might think. I've learned since then that there is a spinal cord reaction that...anyway, I just kind of...checked out mentally, you know? Of course my eyes were closed and I just tried to ignore my body and imagine being somewhere else. Part of the time I had the ability to just ...mentally remove my mind from my body. I thought about this park I used to go to as a kid. This creek behind our house. My grandma's backyard. I thought about running. I prayed a lot, because...well...the thought crossed my mind that he might kill me. But he just ...basically humped me. And I remember thinking, 'how could he even enjoy this?' Then I thought it was over, but it wasn't."

"Okay, that's enough," John grimaced.

"Really? Because that's not all. I mean, almost, except...do you want me to stop for my benefit, or for yours?"

"Sorry Amy, it just seemed ...I don't want you to have to relive this experience."

"This isn't reliving it John. This is just telling what happened. I don't have any of the fear or emotions right now that I experienced when it happened. I'm not afraid right now. This is...okay, except I'm worried about how you're taking it."

"I'm okay, God Amy, I just...it's really hard to listen to."

"I know. I know. But you only have to hear it once, okay?"

"Okay," John intentionally relaxed.

"So he gets up and I am hoping he is just going to leave, but he leaves me strapped to the bed and goes looking in my kitchen for something to eat."

"You're fucking kidding me."

"I know, right? Well, I think I mentioned we both had been drinking, but ...anyway, he starts bitching me out about not having any food! While I'm nude and gagged and tied to the bed! Imagine how absurd. It scared me because he seemed really crazy. And the fact that he could just ...yell at me about not having anything good to eat seemed so ..."

"Like it was a normal day to him."

"Exactly. And that is when I got the sense that he had probably done this before. So he ate a bowl of cereal, drank some orange juice, then came back and raped me again. Unfortunately, this time went on for a lot longer. Same thing, though. I found I could mentally check out to some degree."

John had his head in his hands now, and Amy said, "Don't worry, It's almost over."

"God, Amy. Don't worry about me."

"Okay, he actually took a break and watched some TV."

John looked at her in amazement.

"Before he sodomized me."

John stood up abruptly, and started pacing around with his hands in his hair, muttering, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"And that part really did hurt. A lot. I couldn't block it out, I just ...the pain felt... excruciating, I couldn't zone out. It lasted a long time and the pain lasted for days. Then he got dressed and left. Oh, he took his belt and his bandana, but by that time, I just whimpered on the bed wishing him away. I don't think I could have screamed at that point or put up any fight, I just wanted him gone. He took my phone so I couldn't call the police right, but I went to the window and as soon as I saw him exit the building, I ran to the next door neighbor's and banged on the door and woke them up. I called the police and went to the hospital...and..."

John paced across the floor in angst.

"That's it. I mean, the aftermath had to be dealt with, but at five in the morning on October 3rd, he walked away and he raped another woman in December. They arrested him during the act, at her apartment."

John came back to the couched and hugged her too hard, then released her. "It's okay, John. I'm okay now," she said, stroking his hair.

"Why are you consoling me?" John emphasized the word 'me'.

"Because you're just now hearing this and I've ...dealt with it. I've been in therapy for over a year and Donald Moran is in prison, I didn't even have to testify thanks to DNA evidence. He'll be in prison for a long time."

John backed up and sat silently starring ahead.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"No. I've never been this angry before and I don't know what to do with myself."

Amy nodded, "When your hand heels, you can take me to the batting cages."

John managed a half grin.

"But for now, I'll settle for a hug."

His arms went around her again, gently this time, and Amy leaned back on the couch so that they were both stretched out in each other's arms. "Don't apologize, okay? I won't either."

"Okay."

They laid silently, gently caressing each other, Amy running her hand through John's hair, then kissing his face. John returned her kisses and pulled her closer, feeling the length of her body next to his. "Amy, I...I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything, John."

"Well I feel like I do, but I'm kind of overcome with several different feelings right now."

"Anger and?"

"Lust. I'm sorry, I feel like such a pig, but your body feels really good and I don't want to offend you..."

Amy laughed, "I'm glad I turn you on. I don't want you to think of me as 'poor Amy the victim'."

"Oh, I'm very turned on by you, but conflicted..."

"I know, I know, don't worry about explaining. I feel so much better now that you know. I feel a lot safer, like if I don't react appropriately to something, at least you will understand why."

"I'm glad that you trusted me enough to tell me."

"I do trust you. But it's not just that."

John pulled his head back to look at her. Amy suddenly looked self-conscious.

"What is it, then?" he asked.

"Sex," she whispered. When John didn't say anything, she went on, "I had not been thinking about sex, not at all, until you licked my damn fingers on our first date."

John laughed, "I thought you couldn't stand me."

"I couldn't," Amy giggled, "you put a spell on me."

"You probably shouldn't have revealed your weakness for oral finger stimulation. Now I'm going to have a hard time keeping my mouth off of you."

"Then don't."

John looked into her expectant eyes and answered her pouty lips with his. He licked the underside of her tongue, then dipped back in to caress her tongue with his, as they swirled together slowly. He felt her hand come to the side of his face as he continued kissing her, then to his chin, then she brought the tip of her finger into his mouth. John sucked the tip gently, dragging his teeth along the skin while she kept her mouth right up to his, then she put the tip in her own mouth. The tip of her finger joined their kissing, a sensual guest that they both nibbled on and sucked intermittently, while kissing throughout. Their mouth had become a playground for lips, tongues, fingertip, and teeth, expressing tender passion for each other.

Hands explored curves and muscles, as their breathing deepened and a long muscular leg came up over John's hip. He pressed his groin into hers, his arousal undeniable. Then he pulled back.

"What's wrong?"

John shook his head, but didn't speak.

Amy's expression changed from playful passion to concern as she waited.

"I don't think I'm ready to do this Amy. My head is swimming right now."

Disappointment shadowed her face momentarily, then she put on an intentional cheerful smile and said, "It's Okay. I didn't mean to ..."

John pulled her in close and said, "Amy...I feel really close to you and really hit hard by what you shared with me. I don't want to mix it all up right now, if that makes sense. I can't let myself feel like I'm taking advantage of your vulnerability when you just opened up to me like that. I mean...I don't want to muddle physical intimacy with..."

"It's okay. I understand," Amy sat up on the couch. "Do you want me to leave?"

"What? God no. I mean, can't we just be together? I want you to stay. Will you stay, Amy?"

Amy smiled, looking relieved. "Sure. But you better not touch me below the waist. I'm like a time bomb, okay?"

John laughed, "Deal. Likewise. I mean, I'm not a time bomb, but I'm a guy, which is pretty much the same thing. Don't think for a second that you don't turn me on something fierce."

"Oh, I know I do," Amy gave a cocky little grin. "And we have plenty of time to find out how much, right?"

John nodded in agreement.

"So...can I sleep in one of your t-shirts then? You've already seen me in my underwear, so I know you can handle that."

John laughed, "And I'll even keep my underwear on tonight."

"What a gentleman," Amy teased, as they rose to get ready to bed.

When they settled in, John on his back and Amy resting her head on his shoulder, they talked and laughed for a long time, until Amy finally drifted off. It wasn't until her became certain of her being deeply asleep, that he allowed himself to cry.

* * * * *

John's Dreamy Dilemma

Brain: What are you doing?

Dick: Shhh, this doesn't concern you. Go back to sleep.

Brain: What? You can't do this! Get ahold of yourself, this is Amy!

Dick: I know. What an amazing ass. These tight little butt cheeks have been bumping into me all night.

Brain: Yeah, her hair smells really good too. Okay, knock it off before you wake her up.

Dick: Shhh. She feels amazing next to me.

Brain: Well back off before you wake her up! Come on, she's like...a wounded bird.

Dick: Ooooh, dude, she just grinded into me a little bit. Feel that? She wants me, I can tell.

Brain: She's sleeping! It could be involuntary. Come on, settle down.

Dick: Quit trying to spoil the party. I'm in a heavenly hot zone right now. Damn, I can feel the heat coming off her. I'm pretty sure she's responding to me. Whoa, she must've felt that.

Brain: Grandma's tits! Grandmas tits! Remember walking into the bathroom --

Dick: Give it up. That faded memory has no power over this hot ass pressing into me. Oh, she's definitely aware of my presence. I can feel the increased heat and ...oh hell yeah baby.

Brain: Just hold still, maybe she'll fall back asleep.

Dick: You control the hips, dumb ass. Besides, I don't even have to move. I'm practically throbbing, and....oh yeah...I she definitely wiggled into me. Dude, I can feel the heat right through these silky panties. Only a thin piece of silk separates me from heaven.




Runner Girl Ch. 07



Brain: Oh no, you've woken her up.

Dick: Fuck, she is so hot. I'm like a heat seeking missile and the spot between these gorgeous legs is radiating, calling me in.

Brain: Don't you dare! Just try and hold still and settle down and...

Dick: Aaah, fuck yeah, her hand. Oh fuck, she just rubbed me with a soft warm hand. No denying it now. You lost this battle, Brainiac. You better just relax- don't spoil the party.

"Good morning," Amy rolled over smiling, slipping her hand into John's boxers as she pressed her body into him. "Do you always wake up in such a good mood?"

John laughed and lowered a hand to her butt as he nuzzled into her hair, "Nope. This is an especially good morning, waking up next to you."

"Yes, you seem happy to see me."

"Undeniably happy."

Amy kissed his neck and squeezed his hardness once, then loosened her grip and began gentle strokes.

"Ahhh, Aaaaymeeee," he groaned into her neck. His hands roamed from her butt, up her back underneath the t-shirt, feeling soft warm skin. She released him long enough to raise her hands over her head, while he pulled the t-shirt up and over, then tossed it aside.

"Wow, so beautiful," he said, seeing her pale breasts for the first time, pert, round, with small dark areolas partially hidden by curtains of wavy auburn hair. He brushed her hair over a shoulder, clearing the path between his lips and an inviting nipple.

"Mmmm," she moaned, as she felt his mouth, releasing her grip and rising to feed him her tits. Her hand rose to the back of his head as he teased her nipple with his tongue, followed by firm sucking. She gently pushed his shoulder back, causing him to lay back on the bed, and crawled on top of him.

"Wow," John murmured, completely surprised by her take charge-sexiness. Amy straddled him, still in panties, but otherwise displaying her sexy body and confident grin. Her demeanor did not exude brokenness, but a woman completely sure of what she wanted, and she lifted her pelvis and gently stroked his hardness with her silky panties and he could feel her wetness in the fabric.

"Off?" She asked.

"Hell no. I love seeing you like this and feeling you on top of me."

"I meant my underwear? Mind if they come off?"

"By all means." He couldn't believe she thought she had to ask, but after how he acted the previous night...he tried to push last night out of his mind and focus on this confident sexy woman with no hint of vulnerability. He couldn't have it any other way.

Amy lifted herself up to standing on the bed, towering over him with both feet at his hips and he looked up her toned legs to a pair of dark blue panties that she now held gently at the sides and watched as she lowered them to her knees, revealing her smooth pussy that came closer into view as she bent to lift a foot and step out of her panties. She stood over him for a moment that clearly advised him to enjoy the view, before lowering herself back down and kissing his lips.

"I haven't even brush my teeth yet," she laughed.

"Not even a slight concern," he answered with an open mouth kiss while keeping a hand on her ass, pressing her long tight body into himself. Amy continued to take the lead and he felt content to let her set the pace, which he expected to go slow. But instead, she reached down and freed him from his boxers, and began rubbing his cock into her wet slit.

"Is this okay?" she asked coyly.

"Fuck yes."

"And this?" as she slid down his head and stopped.

"You don't have to ask. I'm yours for the taking."

Amy laughed, "That's what I wanted to hear," and she kept her forehead to his and her eyes locked as she slowly slid down his shaft. "Wow...you're a lot...bigger... than my vibe."

John laughed at the compliment and his surprise at this sweet beautiful woman being far more sexual than he had imagined. The sight of Amy straddling him, the sensual expression, her long lean pale body, and the tight wetness that engulfed him became overwhelming. He felt relieved that she had to pause momentarily, before sliding back up his length, squeezing him so tightly that the pleasure felt almost excruciating. She slid back down again, and his hands held her muscular little ass, not guiding, letting her set the pace, just feeling her muscles contract as she began to pump his cock with abandonment.

She kept her gaze locked on his, even as she began to ride his cock. She smiled again, then sat up and closed her eyes while John continued to watch. She remained in charge of the position, the tempo, and the thrust. Pretty tits bounced slightly, inches from his face as he looked up and saw her expression of ecstasy. Her athletic body showed no signs of weariness as she bounced on him with increasing fervor, her gorgeous hair framing her beautiful face, hands on his chest, while tight wet squeezes embraced and massaged his cock into euphoria.

She rocked her hips to the side a few times, sending a jolt through John that brought him closer to orgasm, even though he hadn't even lifted his hips in return, "God Amy, you feel so good."

"So. Do. You." She panted between thrusts, looking like a wild mermaid caught in a net, a Waterhouse painting, a renaissance woman in the throes of passion. "Oh my god, you feel..." she lowered her body and began a series of short strokes that John knew signaled an impending climax and it took no effort at all for him to join her as she pumped his cock into orgasm. Her body suddenly became still, except her pussy that squeezed him tightly and released, and he finally lifted his hips from the bed and pumped into her, causing a volcanic eruption of semen to coincide with her contractions. A whimpering escaped her as a groan bellowed out of him. She collapsed onto his chest and he held her tightly, breathless from cumming as hard as he had ever known.

She trembled, and he caressed her back and bottom, still inside of her, semi-hard, but sated. She shuddered again, and when she finally lifted her face, he saw that her cheeks were wet with tears. "Oh my god, Amy, are you..."

"I'm okay. That's why I'm crying. I didn't know I could feel this good again... I'm going to be okay, John."

He pulled her back in tightly, overcome with emotion himself, and whispered, "We are going to be okay, sweetheart. We are going to be more than okay."



Runner Girl Ch. 08



Tracy slid onto the stool next to Amy's. "Sorry, there weren't any tables available."

Tracy waved a hand away. "Prime-time in Manhattan? A coffee shop across from the library? I feel damn lucky to have a stool to park my butt on. Thanks for meeting me over here. I didn't want make those old men in the writers group break down in tears when I started asking about your date with John."

"Oh, they wouldn't even be interested... except Naveen," Amy laughed. "He might actually cry."

"Ha!" Tracy leaned forward, "So? How long did you end up staying?"

"Oh, only until ten," Amy grinned, watching Tracy's face as she processed her answer, "the next night."

The news shaped Tracy's lips into an excited O, and she fanned herself with both hands, eyes wide.

Amy laughed again, "So yes, things went very well, even better than I hoped. I didn't plan to stay that long -- oh, I had a good idea I would spend the night -- it seemed like we were at that point, so I came prepared with toothbrush and a change of clothes. But my intentions were to go home the next morning and grade papers. We ended up spending all day together on Sunday."

"Oh my god, Amy, what a long date! Did you know the same is true of my first date with Willaim? Okay, so?" Tracy asked with a sly grin, "Was it finger-lickin' good?"

Amy covered her smile with her hand, turned crimson, but nodded as she answered, "Um, yes... yes it was. And some finger licking did actually occur."

"Oh my god, that is so hot. Go on."

"Well... um, after you two left, we looked at the rest of the photos and talked for a long time, and then I spent the night... and... the next morning..."

Tracy's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, did you use a condom?"

"A condom?" Amy struggled for what to say. Tracy didn't know about... and if she did, then she'd know Amy had gotten herself checked for diseases afterwards. But she couldn't read from Tracy's face where the question had come from, and her friend kept waiting for an answer. "Uh, no. No we didn't."

"But what about protection? Oh god, I'm sorry to seem so nosey, it's just that I am horrified by the possibility of unplanned pregnancy."

"Oh," Amy sighed in relief. Her second thought had been that Tracy knew some reason to be concerned about John's history. "I'm on the pill. I've been on it anyway because of headaches."

"Oh, okay, good. Go on, sorry. What did you two do for twenty-four hours, besides the obvious?" Tracy's smile had returned and so had Amy's.

"Well, the next morning we went out for breakfast, and he said he needed to work, to preview some properties, and he asked if I would go with him."

"Really? To look at property? Were you bored?"

"Oh no, I had so much fun! Of course at that point he could have taken me grocery shopping and I would have enjoyed myself. We get along really well. He is so much fun," Amy gushed. "He had his driver take us all over New York, and it was incredible to be able to move around the city with that kind of ease. We went and looked at three different industrial buildings. One still had factory equipment from the '40s! It had just been sitting like that for years and it felt like traveling back in time when we went inside. Of course John brought his camera, and took photos. It ended up being an amazing day."

"Wow, this is so great. I can't wait to tell William! Oh, he probably already knows anyway. Okay, so what next? Did you make plans to get together again?"

Amy's smile turned into a pout, "He went to London again. I won't see him for five days, but he has called and texted me and of course he has already sent a few photos. Hey, look at the time: should we head on over?"

"Yeah, I guess we'd better. Hey, don't you have a turn coming up?"

"Ugh! Next time. And I've been slacking on my writing. Too many fun distractions." Amy smiled as she slung her bag over her shoulder and slid off the stool. The two friends made the short walk over to the library and Amy fought the urge to look at her phone, all the way until seated on the subway, heading for home at the end of the day.

* * * * *

John felt frustrated to get back to his London flat so late, too late to call Amy because of the time difference. He'd have to settle for email, a 'good morning' message that she could read when she woke up. He turned the key and opened the door, surprised to see that he had left a light on.

"Hello, handsome."

"Sarah!" he yelled, "What the fuck, you scared the hell out of me. What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you," Sarah laughed, "Isn't it obvious?" She held her arms out to display her ensemble, a sheer red negligee and very high heels. John remembered giving her a key, but he hadn't even told her that he'd be in London this week.

"How'd you know I'm in town?"

"Herman mentioned introducing you to a new client. Don't worry; I'm not insulted that you didn't call me. I figured it must be a 'strictly business trip' since I hadn't heard from you. I decided if you didn't have time to take me out, I would just come surprise you," she said, as she rubbed her hands along the lapels of his jacket. "You always tease me about being so high-maintenance, but look how accommodating I can be? I've come to you, just like room service. Isn't that generous of me?"

"You certainly surprised me. I didn't expect to see you on this trip."

"Well then, aren't you pleased?"

"Uh, yeah, but the thing is, Sarah, I'm really busy. I was just about to... email some clients back in New York. I've got a lot going on right now."

"Ah well, take care of business then. I won't stop you. I'll just wait for you in bed," She leaned in to kiss him and pulled him forward by his tie. John resisted her kiss, still distracted, until she dropped a hand to his crotch and began rubbing him through his slacks.

"Sarah, I... Listen, some things have changed."

"Mmm hmmm, some things have grown," she laughed, referring to his tumescent cock, then dropped to her knees right in front of him.

"Fuck, Sarah..."

She shook her head. "Eventually, but I want this first," she said while unbuckling his belt.

John looked up at the ceiling. His cock responded, but his mind struggled. He didn't ask for this, didn't seek it out. He hadn't talked to Amy about being exclusive. He would... after tonight... This already... "Good god, Sarah. How am I supposed to resist that?" He looked down at her as she fully engulfed his cock in her mouth.

She kept him deep and shrugged at the same time, lifting an arm and an eyebrow as if to say, "Why would you?"

John raised his eyes to the ceiling and tried not to think. He closed his eyes and let the sensation on his cock draw him away from everything except the present moment. The hot slick mouth, taking him deeper with each thrust as a hand worked his shaft in unison. An image of red hair flashed through his mind and he quickly pushed it aside as a distracting hand began caressing his balls. "Cum in my mouth," he heard in the British accent that he always used to find so sexy, but now sounded haughty and aloof, "Cum for me, John."

He reached down and touched the silky head of hair and allowed himself to think in the abstract, to follow the voice commanding him and his body, as his dick responded eagerly to the attention being lavished upon it. He looked down and saw the nightgown parted in the back, exposing a red g-string and the tattooed snake glaring at him with mocking yellow eyes. He quickly shut his eyes and intentionally began repeating "Sarah" aloud over and over.

She backed off long enough to say, "Mmmm, you are happy to see me. It just took you a few minutes to realize how much."

John didn't answer. Instead he surrendered to the pleasure, the squeezing sensation as her hand gripped him tightly.

"Come on, over here. I've changed my mind," Sarah stood and pulled him toward a stuffed chair and scooted the ottoman aside. She pulled her g-string down and kicked it off her foot, then sat in the chair with a leg slung over the arm, still in stiletto heels and red negligee. "Fuck me in our favorite chair," she commanded.

John paused for a moment, looked at his open laptop on the desk, then turned his gaze back to Sarah and dropped to his knees in front of her. He positioned his cock at her entrance and slid in eagerly, hard and fast, and she responded with a loud moan in his ear. He pummeled her cunt relentlessly, as she squealed words of encouragement over and over, and kissed and bit his neck, and clawed his back under the shirt he was still wearing. "Yes, yes, yes," she moaned and reached down to his butt cheeks, "Yes, here I cum!"

John exploded inside her as she wrapped her stilettoes around his butt and arched her back. "Yes!" she screamed once more before collapsing back into the chair. He lay panting over Sarah wondering what she would say if he went to his laptop at that moment. He didn't wonder long as Sarah spoke, "Aren't you glad I came to see you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, sure. Um, thanks, Sarah. Thanks for coming by." John ran his hand through his hair.

"But I'm sorry I can't stay," she said. "I have an early appointment and need a good night's sleep. You know how I don't sleep well with you tossing and turning. Unless you might consider one of my pills?"

"No, no. I need to be sharp in the morning for my meeting. I'm sorry you can't stay." John tried to sound disappointed.

"How about tomorrow, then? Can you meet me for lunch at The Green Room? It is close to this little boutique I would love to show you. I've got some clothes on hold."

"I'm not sure I can make lunch tomorrow. I'm meeting a new client at his office and it's likely I won't be able to break away."

"Well if you can't, please be available by phone. The owner knows me and will take your credit card over the phone, if need be."

John grinned as he watched Sarah get dressed. He used to enjoy taking her shopping when he first met her. Back before it became expected of him. He kissed her goodbye at the door and immediately sat down at his laptop to email Amy.

* * * * *

"First Snow! Meet at 5:30" read the text from Miles. Amy smiled. The running group had a tradition of running at the park the day of the first snow, and this time the conditions were perfect. It had snowed overnight, just a few inches on the ground and the storm had passed that morning, leaving it cold and crisp under blue skies.

Amy rushed home after school let out, and changed into warm running gear, then got on the subway headed for Central Park. She checked her phone once and saw a photo from John, an interesting perspective of rows of buildings that mirrored each other with just the hint of a sunrise between them.

"Did you lie down in the middle of the street to take that one?" she texted back.

"No, I've attached a camera to my shoe. It comes in handy when I meet ladies in dresses. What are you up to?"

"Headed to the park to run. First snow!"

Amy's phone rang. She didn't answer, just texted back, "On the subway. I'll call you when I get off." She graded three papers before her stop, three of the forty she wanted to have done by the next day. Stepping off the subway, she looked for a quiet place to use the phone. She found an alcove and called John back.

"Hi there!" she greeted him cheerfully.

"You're going to run at the park? Isn't it dark?"

"Not yet, but I brought a headlamp."

"Are you going to be running by yourself?"

"A few of us from my running club are going, but I'll probably end up on my own for part of it. You aren't worried, are you? There are tons of people at the park at night."

John paused. "I know. I know that. Sorry, I just got this mental picture of you running through the park at night, and..."

Amy paused before asking, "Are you always this... concerned about the women you are dating? Or is it because of what happened to me?"

"Huh. I guess the latter. It definitely made me more aware of what could happen to someone I care about."

"I'm safe, John. I promise. Hey, when are you coming back?"

"Tomorrow. Can I see you?"

"Yes!"

"Good. I have a little present for you."

"Really? Tea and biscuits?" she teased in a clipped faux-British accent.

"It's a surprise, Runner Girl. Have a good run, okay?"

"I will." Amy hung up and ran the short distance to the park with a big smile on her face.

She reached the bench where her group met every Saturday morning, and Miles, Keith, and Joan were already there to greet her. "Wow, this is so beautiful!" she exclaimed, holding her arms out, gesturing to the great lawn blanketed in snow. The low sun on the horizon reflected off the snow, illuminating the landscape.

"We got lucky this year, with the light dusting followed by clear weather," Keith said. "Last year the first snow came as a blizzard."

"Or sometimes it doesn't even stick and we just end up running in mud," Joan said. "Check out all the people taking photos."

Amy looked around and indeed, many people were capturing the beauty with their cell phones. She decided to snap one herself, something that didn't usually occur to her, then she put the phone away. "Are we waiting for anyone else?"

"I think this is it today," Miles said, looking at his watch. "You guys ready?"

"Yeah!" Amy jumped in place, partially for warmth and partially due to uncharacteristic exuberance. "First snow!"

"Wow, someone's cheery tonight," Keith smiled at her.

Amy nodded in agreement with a smile on her face. "I'm not racing you, though."

"Yeah, I wouldn't recommend it," Keith laughed. "You probably couldn't keep up. I had a lot of motivation to improve my pace this year."

"You're welcome," Amy laughed.

The group started running and Joan and Miles led the way while Keith stayed next to Amy. "So, what are my chances of getting a second date this weekend?" Keith wasted no time.

Amy was expecting this and answered, "I'm sorry, Keith. I'm really busy this weekend." She wasn't sure if she should admit to seeing someone.

"Oh yeah? What do you have going on?"

"I'm going to a new club that is opening this weekend." She didn't mention that John was invited by the owners, or that he had sold them the property.

"Oh yeah? What's the name of it?

"Polished Nickel. It's in the meat packing district."

"Huh, never heard of it."

"Well, it's brand new. Anyway, aside from that and running, I need to grade about a hundred essays. Oh hey look; we caught up to Joan. Hey, Joan!" Amy was glad to join the other woman and after talking for a few minutes, she said she was going to put on her headphones and run ahead. She listened to music during the last part of the run, enjoying the sunset and the stunning scenery. The snow had not been disturbed, except through the main walkways and paved areas. The trees were still dressed in white, which would surely be gone by the next day.

The chilly air invigorated Amy, and she reveled in the solitude. She pushed her pace for the remaining mile and even though the sun had set, she didn't yet need her headlamp. Running on the paved walkway meant that lamps were lighting the path, which made for ample brightness. She wished she had John's photography skills; she would have loved to share this beauty with him. She took out her phone and snapped another shot.

"Want me to get one of you?" It was Miles stretching at the bench where they met up.

"Um, sure." Amy answered, handing him her phone.

"It really is beautiful out, isn't it?"

"Sure is."

"I see you lost Keith, huh?"

"He hung back to run with Joan."

"What a nice guy," Miles laughed. "I know he'd rather run with you." He handed her phone back as Joan and Keith approached. "Wow, great pace!" Miles said, directing the compliment to Joan.

"Keith pushed me to keep up," Joan panted. "He's such a sweetheart!" she said as she shot a glance Amy's way.

"Anyone up for dinner?" Keith asked while holding his foot behind him to stretch his quads.

All three shook their head no and Keith hung his head in defeat. "Sorry, Keith, I'm so behind on grading papers. I've got to get home."

"And I've got to get home too," Joan said.

So the group said goodbye and Amy walked to the subway station with Keith, who said he needed to go that way anyway. "Maybe we can hang out after Saturday's run? Go out to breakfast or something?" He suggested as Amy headed downstairs to catch her train.

"Yeah, maybe," she answered over her shoulder and waved goodbye.

Once alone, she looked at the photos of the snow and sent two of them to John before settling in on the train to read persuasive essays.

* * * * *

John waited in the back seat of the town car, watching the students pour out of the double doors and diffuse down the wide steps that led to the sidewalk. He hadn't considered Amy's students before, but now he wondered how she was regarded. The appearance of middle school students ran a gamut; some still looked like children, others like teens, and a few on the verge of adolescence. He spotted Amy as she came through the doors, and he stepped out of the car. He heard a group of girls yell in sing-song unison, "Bye, Ms. McGuinness!" and Amy turned and waved back at them. Then she met John's eyes and beamed at him. He wanted to take her in his arms, but... in front of her students? Would it be too inappropriate?

She smiled with closed lips before saying in a formal tone, "Hello, Mr. Heywood," and tilted her head to signal getting into the car. She sat and slid across the back seat and he followed behind her and closed the door. The barrier between them and Leonard had already been raised, and the first thing Amy said was, "How opaque is that tinting?"

"Very."

She responded by wrapping her arms around him and greeting him with a slow, welcoming kiss.

"Mmmm, I missed you," he whispered as he inhaled the scent of her hair.

"Me too," she answered, kissing along his face as he pulled her in closer. She threw her leg over his and he leaned in to kiss her parted lips. "Maybe we should get away from the school a little bit?" she laughed.

"Good idea." The barrier was opaque except for a small sliding glass door. He slid it open and told Leonard to take the bridge.

"Where are we going?" Amy asked.

"A long drive. I want some time alone with you. Is that okay?"

"Of course." She kissed him again as he ran his hand up the length of her leg, feeling her cotton legging underneath the wool skirt.

"Very professional," he teased.

"Keep going," she giggled into his neck, as his hand slipped high enough to discover that her conservative tights stopped at her thighs.

"Oh, naughty teacher," he moaned in her ear. "Did you wear these for me?"

"Mmm hmm."

His hand continued up her leg until he reached her panties and caressed her bottom. The silky texture of the panties contrasted with the coarse wool of the skirt, and he slipped his hand under the silk to savor the even more luxurious softness of her warm skin. Amy slid out of her overcoat and asked, "Are you sure no one can see through these windows?"

"Not unless they come right up to the glass and try to look in. Impossible, while we are moving."

"And Leonard?"

"He knows to respect my privacy," he answered as he pulled her onto his lap, so that he could get both hands on her bottom.

Amy grinned with her chin tilted down. The shy gesture contrasted sharply with her actions as she began unbuttoning her white blouse to reveal a lacy bra underneath. John paused. Heat and urgency gave way to a desire to stop time. The sight of Amy straddling his lap, unbuttoning her blouse for him, made him forget to breathe. Reflexively, he gasped for air.

Her beauty overwhelmed him, overloaded him with visual stimulation. Time did seem to slow as he took a deep breath and admired her taut abdomen all the way up to her perky tits in the white lacy bra, then her beautiful chest and throat that begged to be kissed, to that chin, now lifted in a sassy "Like what you see?" gesture.




Runner Girl Ch. 08



"Yes," he answered in response to the unasked question.

Both hands went inside her blouse at her waist, feeling the soft warm skin all around to her back, and up to the bra strap. His lips gently grazed her breast through the lace, causing her breath to hitch. He rubbed his mouth back and forth and exhaled hot air onto the pert little nub underneath the lace. "Ooooh," she cooed. "You're driving me crazy."

Unclasping her bra, he unveiled her breasts giving him access to devour the rounded mounds before him. She squirmed in his lap as her hands firmly grasped his shoulders. His hands slid down to her ass and pulled forward to rub her crotch into his hardness. Meanwhile, his tongue danced across her nipples, flicking and teasing, as she grinded into him enough to almost cause a friction burn.

"Amy," he whispered, "can we?"

"Oh god yes," she slid off his lap and quickly pulled her underwear off, smiling at him the whole time, while he undid and lowered his pants. She crawled back on his lap and whispered, "I can't believe we are doing this in a moving car."

He nodded in agreement as he rubbed the tip of his cock back and forth along her wet slit. Having sex in a moving car was hot, but he felt more turned on by the fact that they were still half-dressed. Only their pelvic areas were left exposed to each other, plus Amy's open shirt. With the rest clad in almost formal winter attire, the areas of naked well-muscled flesh that were bared were soft and warm in contrast. And she was so stunning upon his lap that it almost hurt to look at her.

Then she slid down, slowly, with a low groan audible only to him. It took a long time for her to make the complete descent from head to root, and when her tight wetness engulfed him, she paused. "Fuck," she whispered.

"Please."

"As you wish," she murmured, with eyes closed, and she began the slow journey back up his shaft, then dropped down again, still slowly. The passion she registered on her face, plus the business attire they both still wore, in addition to chauffeur-driven limo that ensconced them -- the combination was enough to overwhelm him again.

"Fuck, Amy, you are so beautiful... It is almost distracting how beautiful you are," he whispered.

She giggled and tilted her head to one side, "Ssssh, I'm fucking you." He watched her rise in ecstasy. His natural instinct was to grab her hips and help her fuck him, but she was so gorgeous like this, he didn't want to break her flow. She slid down again, then leaned forward, blocking his view, and she began grinding into him, not raising herself very high with each thrust, but rubbing herself in a way that registered her pleasure and turned him on immensely.

"Mmmmm," she moaned, as her hips undulated over his lap. He felt like a lazy fuck, yet at the same time, she was enjoying riding his cock so much he didn't want to do anything to interrupt her. Her tempo increased, as did her breathing, and she made a slight whimpering sound that caused his cock to twitch in response. "John," she whispered, then said no more; instead her gyrations increased and he let out his own murmur of approval: "Yes, baby, cum for me."

And he was surprised that such a simple invitation sent her over the edge, or maybe she had already arrived regardless of his encouragement, but he felt the muscles of her pussy contract so tightly that he was almost expelled, so he did grab her hips and pushed up deeply. Amy yelped. Her convulsing pussy massaged his climax out of him and he erupted into her, raising his hips off the seat, thrusting several times in rapid succession. "Ooooh," she cried, barely managing to keep quiet. "Oh, John," she sighed, collapsing on him and giggling, even as his cock was nested inside her. "I'm so glad to see you," she laughed.

"Me too," he laughed in return, brushing a lock of hair away from her face, stuck with perspiration. "It got pretty hot in here." He kissed her cheek where the hair had been.

"I'll say," she laughed, then carefully rolled off him, then looked around, awestruck that they were slowly moving through traffic.

"Here," he said, pulling out a pack of wet wipes from a pocket behind the seat, taking one for himself before handing her the pack.

It occurred to her that she wasn't the only woman he'd had sex with in this car, but she consciously pushed the thought aside before it cast a dark cloud over an amazing experience. She pulled her panties back up and buttoned her blouse as John also dressed and began digging under the seat for something. He pulled out a small box tied with a ribbon.

"Your present," he said, placing it in her hand.

Amy's eyes widened as she untied the bow and raised the lid of the small package. He watched her expression as she unwrapped her gift and discovered a pair of diamond earrings. A look of genuine surprise crossed her face as she said, "Are these... real?"

John laughed, "Of course they're real."

Amy's expression remained steady. She wore a slight smile, but spoke hesitantly. "Wow... Thank you. Thank you so much. I mean, I wouldn't have expected... They're beautiful, of course. So beautiful."

"You're welcome," he said casually.

"No one has ever..." She hesitated, then looked up from the box into his eyes, "May I ask what made you buy me such an extravagant gift?"

"Wow," John laughed. "No one has ever asked me that before."

Amy continued to smile, but stared as if expecting an answer. The silent pause hung in the air.

"I don't know, Amy. I was at a store and saw them, and business went well on this trip. I was feeling happy to be coming back to see you, so I just did it. I wanted you to know I was thinking of you while I was gone."

Amy's expression didn't change, but she spoke precisely, as if choosing her words with care. "John, by sending photos you told me you were thinking of me. That was very personal and more than enough. And the email, and the texts, and... You didn't need to do this. I mean, they are beautiful and I appreciate it, but... I feel very strange accepting such an extravagant... I'm sorry. I should just be gracious and say thank you, but I don't want you to think this is expected or required, okay?"

"Okay," John smiled in agreement. He wasn't insulted. The truth was, the earrings cost about the same as Sarah's designer outfit and if he really thought about it, there might have been some guilt associated with the purchase. However, this beautiful auburn-haired teacher just told him she would rather have one of his photos than jewelry. He pulled her in for another kiss and told her, "You're fucking adorable, do you know that?"

"Yeah. I do," she laughed, "but you're pretty amazing too."

* * * * *

John and Herman were meeting at The Polished Nickel, despite the distractions of the grand opening preparations going on around them. John worked on his laptop, writing up an offer on another distressed property, while the elder gentleman watched the hub of activity as the staff attended to their various tasks. Both men thrived in the energy and chaos of productivity, and Herman, who came from humble beginnings, took great pride in the fact that he employed hundreds of people.

Herman watched The Polished Nickel come together before his eyes, while at the same time considering the intentions for the new property John was writing an offer on, the project that included the altruistic Beverly Wilcox. Herman considered Ms. Wilcox an entirely different animal than those he usually worked with, with a refreshingly unique set of operating instructions. He asked John if he she would be present at scheduled meeting for the following Tuesday.

John nodded and began to speak, but Collette approached their table. She needed Herman's signature on the delivery receipt for the painting that was being hung in the lobby. She winked at John while Herman looked over the document he was signing, but John was busy checking his phone during Herman's distraction. Amy sent a photo of herself holding up her hair on one side to show her new earrings. "Do you need a necklace for tonight?" He texted.

"Stop it!" she answered, assuming he was joking, but he wasn't.

Herman handed Collette the paperwork and then turned to John and said, "You must have a new love interest."

John looked at him in surprise.

"Grown men don't typically smile at their phones," Herman said. "Will I have an opportunity to meet her? I assume she will accompany you this evening?"

"Yes," John answered and held up his phone to show the photo he just received. "This is Amy. She's really special."

"Ah, very lovely indeed."

"That reminds me," John thought out loud. "I need to change the locks on my London flat."

"Trouble?"

"Not yet, but Sarah has a key."

"Why don't you simply ask her to return your key?" Herman asked, then his expression registered a memory. "Better to change the lock."

John nodded in agreement and sent an email to his London-based property manager before he forgot. He really didn't expect any bad behavior from Sarah, but he had experienced a scorned lover who trashed his apartment in the past, and he didn't want to take any chances.

"I'm just about done here," John said. "I put in contingencies regarding engineering reviews and structural and environmental inspections, of course, so we will have second opportunity to negotiate, but this will lock in our price while we work out the details. I'll submit it to the sellers Monday, after Ms. Wilcox has a chance to look it over."

"And if they don't accept our offer, have you located others that will be appropriate?"

John flashed his charming smile, "If they don't accept this offer, we'll negotiate. You know I didn't put our best offer on the table."

Herman laughed, "Is anyone else after this property?"

"There hasn't been another offer yet, and the owners are hot to sell. We've got this one, Herman. The only question is how far down I can drive the price."

Herman stood and shook John's hand. "Great. Frank and his partner look forward to meeting you tonight. It should be quite a party."

John looked around at the beautiful décor and said, "Quite a party." In a few hours he would be back with Amy on his arm, and he hoped he could show her how enjoyable Manhattan nightlife can be in his company.



Runner Girl Ch. 09



Amy sat on the subway with the plastic-covered dress folded neatly in half upon her lap. At the time Tracy's suggestion that she rent a designer gown seemed like a great alternative to buying something, but now the blood spatters across the front of the Gucci dress made the frugal choice look disastrous. She hoped the store owner would allow her to pay it off in installments, although she had no idea how much to expect. Not that she had any right to worry -- whatever she owed would be trivial compared to the lawsuit John faced. He didn't seem overly concerned about it, but what had happened Saturday night made Amy feel like crap.

She exited the subway and made her way up to the street. A cold blast of air hit her in the face, but she welcomed the discomfort. The freezing wind felt like penance. If only she'd reacted better, Keith's nose would still be intact and so would John's reputation.

Brisk, determined steps led her to the high-end storefront and she stepped inside, only to find the saleswoman busy with another customer. She forced herself to wait patiently by the counter: more penance.

"I'll be with you in a minute. Or you can just leave it there, if you're in a hurry," the lady said without looking up.

"I'll wait. I need to talk to you about the dress."

At that the woman looked up, her eyebrows rising in disapproval and disdain. She said "Excuse me a moment," to the customer, who continued browsing through the rack. She approached the counter, asking, "What seems to be the problem?"

"I got something on it." Amy's voice was barely a whisper.

"What?"

"Blood."

The woman peered over her glasses at Amy again and sighed loudly, "Well, sometimes it comes out, but -- Good lord! What happened?"

Amy shifted her weight and looked down at the dress, "Well, um... there was a fight. Oh, not me, but I was standing --"

"Where the hell did you wear this dress?"

"The Polished Nickel. It's new -- a new club."

The angry expression faded away, replaced with curiosity, "You were there when John Heywood hit that guy? I saw it in the paper."

"Yes. Yes, I was there, but it wasn't John's fault."

"You know John Heywood?" The woman's demeanor changed completely and in a flash.

"Well, yes, John took me to the grand opening. That's why I needed the dress, and --"

"What? Why didn't you say so?" The woman removed the dress from the counter. "Darling, don't worry about this dress, I've got something to clean it with and if that doesn't work, I can always dye it black. Just be sure and tell John where you got the dress, okay? My name is Lydia, and next time you attend an event, please, please do come see me again. Promise?"

Amy blinked in confusion. "Really? I mean I appreciate that, but... are you sure the dress is okay?"

"Oh darling, don't you worry about that. Just promise me you'll come back next time you need something. Did you know I lend out jewelry too? Just call me, or even email. Here, take my card. Let me know what you're looking for, and if I don't have it, I can get it. Furs, shoes, purses -- it just doesn't make sense to buy things you'll only be seen in once, even if you've got the money, right? It's what everyone's doing these days. I can't mention the names of my clients, but you'd be surprised. Anytime you need something special, please, allow me to assist you."

"Um... okay, Lydia. Well thanks. Hey, I'm really sorry about the dress."

"Oh, don't you worry about that, darling. Amy is it? Yes, I have updated your file. I have your sizes and will start to update your preferences." she said, then looked away from the computer screen. "Amy. It was my pleasure helping you."

Amy gave a slight wave as she opened the door and stepped out into the cold, thinking, Borrow a fur coat? A down jacket and some hiking boots would be really nice right about now.

* * * * *

John arrived looking distraught, but still took a moment to mock William for reading in a bar, "Hey, nerd. Thanks for taking a break from the books to meet up with me."

"Oh, I didn't break." William held up his book. "Besides, you're usually the busy one. I figured something must be up."

"That's an understatement," John sat down heavily. "I think I fucked things up with Amy."

"What happened?" William slumped and looked resigned, as if readying himself for a story he'd heard before. The waitress barely paused as she passed by, John's nod affirming 'the usual.'

"Ugh," John put his forehead in his palms. "Well, I lost my temper. Not at Amy, but in front of Amy and Herman and Frank, and these other clients I haven't mentioned, and... it got ugly. I made an ass of myself in front of several important people."

"That isn't like you. Putting your foot in your mouth is to be expected, but what caused you to lose your temper?"

"I know, it's really not like me, but now Amy thinks I have anger issues and nothing could be farther from the truth, but just try and convince her. Anyway, now that she's seen me put my hands on someone --"

"What? It got physical? What the hell happened? Go back to the beginning!"

"Okay, okay. We were at the grand opening for 'The Polished Nickel' the new club Herman just opened. Remember that restaurant 'Philippe's' in the Meat Packing District?"

William shook his head.

"Well, it wasn't very memorable, so of course it went under. I managed to obtain the property at a steal, and Herman worked his magic to turn it into a posh nightclub. I took Amy to the opening," John smiled for the first time. "She looked stunning."

"Tracy helped her pick out the dress."

"Ah, so you knew about the event. Did you get to see her in that dress?"

"No, but Tracy said she looked beautiful."

"Here, I took a photo of her, but it doesn't show the dress very well." John took out his phone and swiped a few times, then held it out for William to see.

"Stunning. Strapless. Beautiful shoulders, very lovely indeed."

"Yeah, but you can't even see what it did to her ass," John smiled wistfully. "A head-turner, but I expected that. She knew it too, and she was radiant."

"So did someone hit on her?" William shook his head in answer to his own question before he even finished asking. He knew that wouldn't provoke John to rage.

"You think I would have lost my shit over someone hitting on my date? I'm not that insecure. Besides, I'd be disappointed if she wasn't hit on."

"Yes, but is she secure? Could she handle being the date of a big shot?"

"She totally holds her own. I thought she seemed shy when I first met her, but no. She may be an introvert, but she is extremely self-assured. Hell, you should have heard what Collette said to her."

"Collette was there? The designer who decorated your place and paid herself that huge commission, even though you were dating at the time?"

"Well, she still deserved to be paid for her work. She has great taste and did a fantastic job on The Polished Nickel as well, but she can be such a cat. She actually said to Amy 'Aren't you lucky? Landing a man who is financially successful and fantastic in bed!'"

"She didn't."

"Oh, she did."

"And how did Amy react?"

John laughed, "Amy didn't miss a beat. She said, 'Yes, fantastic in bed, and in a limo, and on a rooftop too."

William choked on his drink, "Wow. I didn't know she could be so sassy!"

"I didn't either," John laughed, "So I whispered in her ear, 'Are you thinking of someone else? We haven't done it on a rooftop!'" and she whispered back, "Not yet, but I'm sure you'll be amazing."

"Oh Amy, that little vixen. This is good news so far. So what the hell went awry?"

John's head dropped and his face looked pained as he went on, "I was deep in a conversation with Herman and this fellow he introduced me to, a guy who's looking to buy some corporate apartments. He was quite a talker and Amy excused herself to go to the restroom. I loved watching her walk in that dress, and I wasn't the only one." John grinned momentarily, then his brow furrowed and he continued. "Then she came out of the restroom, and the club has this long corridor, but I could see her from the waist up through this wall of glass. Some guy starts talking to her and I'm still talking to this friend of Herman's, but I can see her and she looks a little irritated, but fine."

John's drink had arrived and he took a swallow. "I kept looking back at her, but she didn't see me. Then she got this look on her face, a nervous look. I don't know what the guy said, but she started looking past him and I could see she wanted to get around him, but he wouldn't let her pass. He actually put a hand on her shoulder and wouldn't let her go."

"Uh-oh."

"Yes, and I thought of going over there, but this guy is talking and there is a crowd between us and I'm hoping she'll meet my eyes, but she doesn't. I see her trying to get around this guy and he's literally blocking her way every time she steps to the side and I felt pretty trapped myself, in a different way. It felt weird to see her face, but to have this glass barrier between us... Then she got this expression, a look of fear, and this guy has both hands on her shoulders and I felt this rage welling up in me. She stood only about fifteen feet away, but I couldn't get through the crowd fast enough."

"Wait a minute. It's not like she actually experienced any danger, right out there in public, right?"

John shrugged off William's comment, "I didn't even excuse myself, just walked away and started squeezing through the crowd to get to Amy. I could see her face and at this point she looks downright panicked and I'm practically pushing people out of the way-"

"But you were in a crowded club? Not like anything could happen."

"You're right, William. I know that, but..." John nodded and hesitated, not sure how much to reveal, but this was William he was talking to. He paused before going on, "The thing is, Amy was brutally raped a year ago."

"Oh, fuck. I'm sorry." William shook his head and looked down. "Well that sheds a new light on the situation. Oh man, poor Amy."

"Yeah, but don't ever let Amy hear you call her that; she hates being seen as a victim, but it was brutal. Date-raped by some creep she met on the internet. Violent too. The guy kept her tied up for four hours."

William's head dropped back in exasperation. "Man, poor -- sorry. God, that pisses me off. I'm getting angry now. Did the guy get caught?"

"Yeah, in the act of raping someone else. He's in prison now, getting karma up the ass." John caught the waitress's gaze and gave her the 'two more' signal.

"God, this pisses me off," William repeated, shaking his head. "Is that what was going on at the batting cages? I wish you'd said something."

"I was pissed, but I thought I'd get over it. I guess that is partially why I went a bit crazy. Anyway, back to the club; I already knew Amy has this thing about being cornered and she probably wasn't in any danger, but just seeing her looking scared got me really pissed."

"What did you do?"

"Well, it depends on who you listen to," John gave a forced laugh. "There are two very differing versions and one of them is likely to get me in some legal trouble. But here's what really happened; I pulled the guy back by the shoulder and told him to take his hands off her, and he took a swing at me."

"He missed?"

"Yeah, he'd been drinking a lot and threw a sloppy punch. It turns out Amy knows the guy, but I didn't know that. I figured he was some guy she bumped into at the club, but it turns out he showed up hoping to see her and became pretty disappointed to find her with a date, so the guy drank too much and came on too strong."

"God, I almost feel sorry for him," William laughed. "Almost, but not really. Who is he?

"Some guy from her running club, oh -- remember the Waldorf Astoria? That's the guy."

"Okay, so he takes a swing, misses, end of story?"

"I hit him."

"Uh-oh."

John nodded with a face that said, "You don't even know the half of it."

"Just a lucky punch... or unlucky, depending on how you want to look at it. I swear, man, I felt it crack and heard it too."

"Oh no."

"Yep. A real bleeder. Blood splattered across Amy's dress, and it got my suit too. But it gets even worse."

William had his head in his hands, shaking it back and forth.

"The guy's filing a lawsuit. Against me, and against Herman, and..."

"What? That's crazy! He took a swing at you first!"

"I know, I know. The lawyers will take care of it, but my reputation... It's in the fucking paper, William."

"What?"

"Yeah, Herman's pissed, Amy's freaked out."

"And some guy has a fucked up nose."

"Yep."

"And what is Amy saying about all this?"

John thought for a second before speaking, "She's embarrassed. Embarrassed for me and how it impacts my professional relationships. She feels like it is her fault, as if she did something wrong. I'll admit, it crossed my mind too, that maybe she overreacted. I didn't realize she knew the guy." John shrugged and took another drink.

"So you believe both of you overreacted because of the rape?"

"I think so. I mean, the guy behaved like an ass, he had too much to drink, and he took a swing at me, but still... I don't think either of us can shake the feeling that the rape had a lot to do with it. Amy is really upset."

"I can see why. It's like that rapist is still has power over her. In a way, she is still a victim."

"That's exactly what she said."

"Damn," William looked at his phone and John assumed he got a text from Tracy.

"Plus she feels guilty, although she shouldn't. She didn't do anything wrong except look scared and she couldn't help that."

"Ah yes, here it is," William held his phone and read from the screen, "You didn't make the Journal yet, but the Times headline reads: 'Posh nightclub or octagon? Real estate mogul loses his temper at The Polished Nickel on opening night."

John laughed and put up his hands. "Hey, I'm a mogul? Did you know that? A mogul with a hot temper! Besides, bad press is still press, and that's publicity for the club. I'm sure Herman will get over it quickly, once our lawyer pays off the runner with the broken nose."

William shook his head and laughed. Humor seemed the only way to improve the situation.

Then John got a text message. Amy asked if he could come to her apartment. She wanted to talk.

* * * * *

I didn't realize the club Amy was talking about would have an exclusive guest list. I thought about leaving and stood on the sidewalk thinking about where to go, but then Amy walked right past me without even acknowledging me. I can forgive that, she wasn't expecting to see me, but I wasn't expecting to see her step out of a limo and was momentarily dumbstruck anyway. There she was, getting helped out of a limo, and she talked to the driver all friendly-like, not like to the hired help. I heard her say "Bye-bye, see ya' in a bit," very casually, and I watched her wave to him. Weird. Sometimes Amy just doesn't know how to blend in with New Yorkers.

She made up for any awkwardness by wearing a snug strapless dress that left nothing to the imagination, her cute ass looking incredibly delectable and her legs as long as sin. Hell, she could say "y'all" wearing that dress and no one would even notice. Once I saw her, I knew I had to get into the club. I made another run at the bouncer and whispered that I was a private investigator hired to follow a cheating wife. I asked if there was any wiggle room in that guest list as I discreetly showed him a hundred dollar bill in lieu of a badge. I guess I got lucky or the bouncer had been unlucky himself, because he took my bill and whispered, "Burn the bitch."

The place was nice, I'll admit it. Good looking crowd, too, but Amy stood out as the most gorgeous redhead in the room. I should have questioned why a schoolteacher would be invited to an event like this, and how she managed to finagle a limo, but I just figured she knew someone. Well, she knew someone, alright. Some rich playboy paraded her around introducing her to people while I hung at the bar. Fuck me. So yeah, I sat there stewing, drinking, and realized the reason Amy played so hard to get. I thought she went for the nice-guy type, like Miles. But hey, I'm a nice guy.

However, I don't think I'd ever worked so hard to get a first date. Oh, I enjoyed chasing Amy down, don't get me wrong. It was fun chasing that ass through the park every Saturday. And when I finally caught her and we went on a date, we got along great. I just figured she was such a sweet southern gal, it was going to take some time to get anywhere with her, but I knew I had made some progress. She most definitely flirted with me that night we ran in the snow. It was just a matter of getting a few drinks in her and she'd warm up, which is why I'd just bribed my way into this club -- not to see her on the arm of some rich guy.

And so I drank. And I watched them. I could tell by their body language that it wasn't their first date. She was laughing and smiling, and giving him a look I'd never seen on her face before. Fuck, I felt like a fool. And so I drank. She didn't even notice me sitting at the bar, or if she did, she didn't acknowledge me. I kept waiting for a chance to talk to her alone. Last thing I wanted was an introduction to that guy. Last thing I'd want to hear is being introduced as her "friend from the running club." And so I drank.

I watched Amy whisper something to the pretty boy and when she broke away and started making her way through the crowd, I seized my opportunity and followed her. When she came out of the bathroom, she seemed shocked to see me there. I guess I was feeling bold since it looked like she was getting hot and heavy with rich-boy and this could be my last chance. Or maybe it was the alcohol, but I saw her arrive alone and I felt free to invite her to leave with me. She acted shocked, as if she didn't know how I felt about her, and that kind of pissed me off. She wasn't even as warm to me as she'd been to the damned limo driver. She tried to dismiss me and said she needed to get back and that's when I kind of let her have it. I told her off for blowing me off over some rich guy, and for leading me on, and that she just liked being chased. I told her she didn't give a shit about running; it was a guy's income she was interested in. She started to argue and so did I. Then she tried to cut me off, but I wasn't done, and... I don't know... I was getting pretty pissed, but next thing you know I feel someone pulling on my shoulder and I spun around and it was him, so I took a swing. Problem was, I wasn't ready for it, and when I spun around my feet were still crossed and the guy was expecting it, I guess, because he ducked and threw a punch back at me and... holy hell!

I couldn't see for a few minutes after that, but I heard screaming. If you've been hit in the nose, you know you can't see for a minute and it hurts like hell, but I think it looked worse than it was, which would explain why all the women were screaming and making a scene. A bouncer came up immediately, or maybe it was two, I really couldn't tell, except they knew who he was and they scooped me up and led me outside as quickly as they could. They must've been trying to cover up for the guy because they put me in a cab and paid the fare, while I sat in the back of that cab thinking "What the hell just happened?" I told the cab driver to go back to the bar, but he talked me out of it, saying I looked a mess. That gave me an idea. I told the cab driver to take me to the hospital, that my neck was hurting me.

I didn't know the guy's name at the time, but I knew he had money. And I knew I was going to make him pay for humiliating me like that. Later I found out who he is and realized getting my face in front of John Heywood's fist was a very lucrative move. I don't feel duped by fucking Amy anymore: hell, she did me a favor. Maybe I'll even send her flowers once I get my settlement.




Runner Girl Ch. 09



* * * * *

John had dismissed Leonard for the day, so after saying good night to William, he took a cab over to Amy's. He hadn't expected to see her since she had an appointment with her therapist. John expected the Saturday night fiasco to be analyzed during therapy, and the thought unsettled him. He paused at the bottom of her stoop, bracing himself for a heavy discussion. It was going to be his first time inside her building. He wished the circumstances were better. After he texted his arrival, Amy came down to meet him at the door.

She greeted him with a reassuring hug and kiss, then led him up the three flights of stairs to her front door. "It's going to seem really tiny to you." She crinkled her nose and apologized before letting him in.

And tiny it was. Tiny, tidy, ultra-feminine, and full of organized clutter. John realized he could span the one-room apartment in five steps, followed by the disturbing thought This is where it happened.

"So," Amy said with a grin, as she plopped down on her fluffy bed, across from John, who took the loveseat. "I guess you are wondering what I want to talk to you about." She wore jeans and a sweater that hung off one shoulder and pulled her knees close to her chest, as she continued. "I saw my therapist tonight."

"And told her about Saturday, I'm sure." John said, filled with dread.

"Of course."

"And?"

"Well, she actually thought Keith acted like a complete jerk, totally out-of-line, but that wasn't the main topic of our conversation."

"Oh?" This couldn't be good, except Amy's demeanor seemed confusingly relaxed and flirtatious.

"She gave me an assignment."

John waited for Amy to go on, as she gently rocked back and forth on her bed with a coy grin.

"She suggested I create new memories in this apartment. Healthy memories. Good, fun, happy memories." Amy looked at him, expectantly, but he waited for her to go on. "Good sex memories, John. I mean, I know it's small and probably not all that comfortable for you, but... well, she thinks it'll be good for me."

Relief washed over him. Not only was he not being called on the carpet, but she was feeling... amorous. He kept a serious tone as he tried to feign insult. "Amy McGuinness, did you really just invite me over here to use me for sex? What am I, a booty call?"

Amy grinned at him and nodded slowly. "Yep, at least I was hoping you'd put out. So how 'bout it? Wanna help with my 'sexual healing'?" '

John stood and took the step over to the bed and sat next to her. "Strictly in a humanitarian capacity, I'm willing to provide my services." He took her face in his hand and gently brought his lips to hers, and a slow kiss brought a smile to her lips as he added, "Anytime, anywhere."

"It's hard to kiss while smiling," she whispered.

"Mmm hmmm," he kissed her again.

"I'm going to um... turn some lights off, okay? But I want to leave some on too." She stood and turned on a small lamp by her bed and turned off all the other lights. "This is better, don't you think? Mood lighting? I want to be able to see you."

"Whatever you want, sweetheart. I love looking at you anyway, but whatever you want, however you need this to be, just tell me."

"Let's get naked," Amy said, and pulled the sweater over her head. John helped her pull the sweater off, but her bare skin and lack of bra drew his attention away from her pants, momentarily.

"You look so beautiful in this light," he said, kissing her neck and feeling her bare back with both palms.

"Let's get your shirt off too," she backed up enough to start unbuttoning his shirt, while he took the opportunity to study her again. He wanted to photograph her, Amy topless with hair bouncing off her shoulders, lit from the side by the soft glow of the nightstand lamp. After pulling his shirt off his shoulders she pulled the t-shirt off over his head and cooed, "Oh John, your body drives me crazy." He laughed because he felt the same thing about her.

"What, don't you hear that all the time?" She looked at him half-expectantly and half-jokingly.

"Doesn't matter. You're the only one I want to drive crazy right now," he said.

"How?" she lay back on the bed, leaning on her elbows, watching as he unbuttoned her jeans then slid the metal zipper down. "Just how do you intend to drive me crazy?"

John looked at her in a way that said he would show her, as he worked the tight jeans down past her hips, revealing a pair of sheer black panties. Gently stroking her mound through the panties, he considered the sexy undergarment testimony to her plan to seduce him. Her jeans and a bare-shoulder sweater with silk panties underneath conveyed understated sexiness, so characteristic of her. He looked back to her face and she gave a slight and shy smile, then jutted out her chin as if to say, "Go on."

He looked back to his hand on her panties and gently pulled the fabric aside to reveal smooth skin underneath, and bent to gently kiss her mound. A small gasp escaped her and he looked back to see the big brown eyes wide with expectation, then they narrowed in a sultry dare. He swiftly pulled the panties down to her knees, and she emitted a tiny squeal, as she raised and bent her knees. Never breaking the eye-to-eye contact, John pulled the panties all the way down and off her feet, tossed them ceremoniously aside, and then positioned himself on his belly, between her legs.

"Is this how you intend to drive me crazy?" she whispered, looking down at him.

John nodded slowly, and with his eyes still locked on hers, began kissing her inner thigh. He slid a hand under her butt and lifted it slightly, gently kneading her muscular cheek, as he traced a trail of kisses like an unhurried traveler intent on enjoying the view on his journey.

When he approached the junction between her legs, he drew his head back and started planting kisses on the other thigh, drawing out a little murmur of frustration from her lips. He smiled between kisses, then remembered she had been raped on this very bed. Pausing for a moment, he closed his eyes and tried to get his thoughts back in order. Don't be a selfish jerk! Keep kissing! Don't ruin this for Amy. Good god, what's wrong with you? He resumed the slow kisses, but now images of her tied to the headboard flashed through his mind followed by a wave of nausea.

"Are you okay?"

"Of course," he smiled thinly. "I'm in heaven right now," he lied and used his spare hand to gently stroke her thigh.

"You thought about the rape, didn't you?"

"What? No! I mean... okay, Jesus, Amy, I'm so sorry... I..."

"Don't apologize, John, you can't help it. Besides, Anne warned me this might happen, but she thought it'd be me, not you." Amy wore an expression of concern.

John buried his face into the bed for a moment, ashamed at bringing the memory of the rapist into the room. He looked back up at her apologetically, unsure what to say.

"She told me I might freak out. Want to know what she said to do?"

"Yes."

"To keep some light on, to keep my eyes open, to talk to you if I started having flashbacks, and just get through it together." Amy reached down and stroked John's hair. "She also said not to put pressure on myself to make it the best sex ever, to just get over the hump."

The silly word "hump" helped to lighten his mood. John laughed and said, "Aww, do you really want me to just rush to get through the first time? Because I was about to bury my face in you."

"Oh no! Stick to your plan. I like the way you think." Amy winked and literally pushed his head back down. "And try and focus on the task at hand, will you?" she teased.

John smiled but kept his eyes locked on hers as he kissed her bare mound again, and ran a hand firmly up her thigh. His forefinger lightly grazed her vulva and he gazed upon her sexy mien, the full blossoming of what he'd only glimpsed when he put her fingers into his mouth on their first date. This time he knew how to read her expression: undeniable arousal.

He gently parted her lips and felt her wetness, as he ran a fingertip along her hot, wet, groove. Then he slid the finger in, slowly, and lowered his mouth and licked just as slowly. He didn't break eye-contact with Amy, who brought her fingertip to her own mouth and nodded slowly.

All of his senses welled up in simultaneous ecstasy, the sensations overwhelming -- almost excruciating. Amy's beautiful face full of passion and affection filled his vision, while womanly smell combined with sweet tart taste, and the tactile slickness on his lips and finger, all these sensations flowed together creating a feeling of euphoria. Positioned between her legs, seeing, tasting, smelling, touching. And then like a great symphony when an instrument comes in that you didn't realize was missing, heightening the experience even further, the auditory component, a little whimper, joined the orchestra and made John tremble in response. He lost himself in pleasuring Amy and had completely forgotten himself, until his cock throbbed and strained against his pants, pleading to be invited to the festivities. Awareness of his own need brought an involuntary moan from him and into Amy's quim. The resulting vibration brought Amy to a higher plateau.

"Oh god, you're going to make me cum!" Her hips wiggled from side to side.

"That's my plan," He mumbled, never taking his eyes off her.

"I've never cum with my eyes open!"

John maintained his stare as he turned his hand over in search of her G-spot. With two fingers he stroked the upper wall synchronously with his slow, rhythmic sucking of her clit.

"Aaahh, yes, oh my god! I can't even..."

He slowed his pace, and his eyes, still fixed on hers, watched her face turn to an adorable pout, her bottom lip alternately pushing out and being pulled back in by her upper teeth, her breathing ragged, eyes pleading. He couldn't resist returning to his former pace, and her face thanked him without words. She brought a hand to her own tit, while the other pressed firmly on his head. Her hips, which had been making small, tight gyrations, suddenly stilled, and her eyes widened and a look of surprise took possession of her face. He knew that she had arrived, as her muscles tensed repeatedly around his fingers. He stared in wonderment as her face and body danced in ecstasy, pleasure he brought to her with his hand and mouth, fingers and tongue. His pride lasted longer than her convulsions, and only when she stilled, only then did he lift his mouth from her and lick his own fingers. "Mmmm," he said, as he crawled over her.

"Oh my god! You still have your pants on?"

John laughed, "Yeah, but I nearly ripped right through them I'm so damn hard."

"Get'em off!" Amy commanded, her drawl more apparent in her relaxed post-orgasmic state.

"Yes, ma'am," he drawled back, and got his trousers off in two blinks.

Amy brought both hands up to her cheeks and shook her head quickly from side-to-side. "Wow. I'm still trembling. That was... fucking incredible. Thank you."

John laughed and kissed her, adding, "Don't thank me for doing something I want to do anyway."

"Oh, but you're not done yet." She smiled, wrapping her hand around his cock, slick with precum. "If I can make you feel even half as good as you made me feel, I'll be a goddess of love."

John turned serious. "Amy, I enjoyed that as least as much as you did."

Amy smiled and caressed him and he knew he couldn't possibly convey how much he enjoyed bringing her to orgasm.

"Can you scoot up so I can get you in my mouth?" She asked, such a sexy and sincere request, but he wanted something else.

"Amy, I really want to just make love to you right now, like this, looking at your face."

"Okay. Okay, I'd like that too."

He lowered his mouth onto her full luscious lips and kissed sweetly, then passionately before lifting his head and locking eyes. He positioned his very eager cock at her entrance and pushed into her slowly and her mouth gaped, but no sound came out, then the ends curved up into an open-mouthed grin. Her teeth came down to rest on her bottom lip as he slid back out, and he watched her face as he slid in and out of her over, and over, and over again. As they enjoyed the coupling, the gentle slides back and forth, each massaging the other's body with their own while maintaining eye contact, it hit him; "making love" was a term he used all the time, but he had never experienced before now. A lifetime of sex had not prepared him for this feeling that he had as he caressed Amy on the inside and the outside, desiring to convey this feeling with his body and with his words. "I'm falling in love with you," he whispered.

Amy nodded slowly in recognition and answered, "Me too," as she continued to rock her hips from below.

"And I'm going to cum."

"Me too."

They surrendered to the rise of their sexual climax, and soared together into physical and emotional bliss that left them shuddering. Eventually, their bodies relaxed, they kissed and held each other, and gradually worked their way back to talking.

"Did you even think about it?" John asked, "Did you have any flashbacks?"

"No. I'm really surprised that I didn't; I kind of expected to, but everything was so entirely different, not just the act, but everything from the way you look at me, the way you talk to me, the way you touch me. There is no comparing, John. What he did to me had nothing to do with sex, it was just violence. And I think about it less and less as time goes on. Having sex here was a good idea. Tomorrow, when you're gone, I'm going to look at my bed and picture you in it."

"What if I just stay in it?"

"Don't you have to work?" Amy laughed.

"Yes, well, there is that. But I want to stay the night, okay?"

"Yes! I have to wake up super early to get to work, but of course I want you to stay."

"Will it help if I have Leonard drive you to work?"

Amy laughed, "You know the students are already saying Ms. McGuinness is dating a 'baller,' so the word's out."

John laughed and Amy went on, "Thank god for the urban dictionary. I thought it meant something nasty, but no. They think you're wealthy."

John stroked her hair and did not feel the need to comment on his financial status. Instead he broached the subject he thought he wanted to avoid, "So what did your therapist say about Saturday night? Did she say that... either of us went overboard?"

"No. She said there is a good chance that would have happened even if I'd never been raped. Especially when I explained how Keith showed up expecting to hook up with me, and that he'd drunk too much and cornered me. Do you know he was saying some really ugly things about how he thought I just wanted a faster runner, but what I really wanted was a guy with money?"

"Huh, really? I don't think I've ever met anyone less interested in money than you."

"Yeah, anyway, I was really pissed, but then he said some rude things about you too. It turns out he was convinced he was making progress with me, and then seeing I have a boyfriend. A 'baller' no less, well... it brought out some ugliness."

"I can see that. And I really didn't intend to hit him. It just happened."

"I know. So Anne didn't think our reactions were that out of skew. In fact, I probably won't see her much longer. I think I could probably just stop seeing her now because... well, it was a big deal getting my sex drive back and my ability to be intimate. But she thinks I still blame myself for what happened. I don't think I do, intellectually I don't, but..." Amy's face looked pained and he knew there was something she wanted to tell him.

"What is it, Amy?"

"Well Anne and I disagree on one big thing."

He waited for her to go on.

"She thinks I should tell my parents what happened."

It never occurred to him that her parents didn't know. He twirled a lock of hair around his finger, thinking about this, "Who have you told? Who else knows?"

"Aside from you? Well the lady next door, the one who let me use her phone to call the police. But she never looked at me again after that. So the cops, the doctor and nurses, a social worker, and Anne, my therapist. But I don't want to tell my parents. Why upset them? It's over and it would just hurt them and there's nothing they can do about it anyway. There's no need for them to know. Besides, I'm fine now."

John wasn't so sure. He remained quiet, thinking about the fact he'd told William. He didn't feel that he'd done wrong, but it broke his heart to think she didn't have a friend like William. Of course he'd known William for years and Amy was pretty new to the city. He knew he agreed with her therapist: Amy needed to tell her parents.



Runner Girl Ch. 11



John loaded the last gift in the Range Rover, closed the hatch and declared, "Okay, that's it. Go say goodbye to Freddy and I'll stay down here with the car."

"Be right back." Amy dashed upstairs and scanned her tiny apartment to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. "Bye-bye, Freddy. Try not to miss me too much. Tracy will come by to visit and feed you every day and I'll see you in a week." She kissed the grey cat, who responded with indifference, then she ran down the three flights of stairs to where the Range Rover waited double parked with the hazard lights flashing.

"Got everything?"

"I hope so, but it's not like we're leaving civilization."

"North Carolina is civilized?" John teased, as he eased into the flow of traffic.

"Ha ha. Do you want me to drive?"

"Sure, I'd like that. But I'll get us out of town first."

"Good idea. It's been months since I've driven, and Manhattan isn't a great place to get back in the groove. But once I get warmed up and we get close to Charlotte, I'll navigate our way through all those Nascar fans."

John laughed and changed lanes, eliciting a horn blast from a taxi. "I hoped that by starting at six in the morning, we would avoid aggressive cab drivers," he glanced over at Amy who was relaxed enough to flip through the magazine laid out on her lap. The two settled into a comfortable silence, Manhattan's streets passing by, and then the Holland Tunnel and Jersey City were behind them as the 95 Turnpike got them out into countryside. There, Amy found an article that caught her attention.

"Ooooh, listen to this," Amy said, "'Can your relationship survive a road trip?'"

John laughed, "I sure hope so! But we wouldn't be taking this road trip if we didn't think so. But what's the gist of the article? I'll follow proper protocol to ensure success."

"Oh my gosh, are you one of those people who read the chapter summary in a textbook first?"

John looked guilty all of a sudden. "Sometimes I read only the summary. But I still managed to do pretty well in school."

"You're too smart for you own good. But this article doesn't really have answers: it's about some of the challenges a couple faces while being trapped in a car together for hours: having a good sense of humor when things go awry, being able to sustain conversation or comfortable periods of silence, agreeing or compromising on music, being able to relax behind the wheel or in the driver's seat --"

"I'm perfectly relaxed. I think we're earning an 'A' so far."

"John, it's barely been an hour," Amy laughed. "We have nine more to go. Wait until you let me behind the wheel, or when I ask you to pull over to a rest stop every hour."

John put his hand on her knee and glanced over, "I can handle that. I'm pretty easy going."

"You are. Especially for a businessman."

"I don't really consider myself a businessman."

"You don't?"

"No, not really. I feel like I'm playing a game half the time. Looking for properties, writing offers, mingling with clients. I'm not the typical aggressive go-getter. Half the time I'm not even worried if a deal goes through or not."

"Hmmm. Maybe that's the key to your success. You're naturally good at what you do and you have a knack for putting other people at ease. It makes it easier for them to manage such high stakes. That, plus you have an easy disposition, not like the typical New Yorker at all. I admit I had you stereotyped when I first met you, but you continue to amaze me with how authentic and genuine you are," Amy looked at his profile and saw him grinning with pride. "Wow, did you just blush? That I've never seen before!"

John shook his head, "I might have. You said some pretty nice things about me, Amy McGuinness."

"My family's going to love you, John Heywood," she added.

"Let me make sure I have their names right. Your folks: Andrea and Ed?"

"Yep!"

"And your older sister, Molly. What is her husband's name again?"

"Adam. They'll be there for Christmas dinner, but they won't be staying at the house since they live just outside Charlotte. They have two children; Sam and Ella are four and six."

"And your little sister? Erin? Is she staying at the house?"

"Yes, she's already there, home from college. Her boyfriend is coming Christmas night. I've never met him, but his name's Aaron too."

"They're both named Erin?"

"Yes, she with and 'E,' and he with a double 'A.'"

"Oh, that's confusing. Okay, Ed and Andrea, Molly and Adam, Sam and Ella, and Erin and Aaron."

"Yep. And John and Amy."

"And John and Amy." He turned and smiled at her. "We do get our own room, don't we?"

"Yep. My old room. But it shares a bathroom with Erin."

"Erin with an E?"

"Yes, until Aaron with an A gets there."

"What about gifts? I didn't get them all presents," John said, glancing over at Amy.

"Oh, that's not expected at all. But I didn't get anything for the kids yet and you can help me get them something. It'll be fun to shop for toys and even more fun to play with them."

"I did get your parents something."

"You did!" Amy answered in surprise. "Oh John, please tell me you didn't spend much. They're really simple and -- "

"I didn't spend much at all. A bottle of wine and something... personal."

"Really? What is it?" Amy smiled, now curious.

"A surprise," John grinned and continued to fix his eyes on the road.

"Hmmm." Amy turned back to her magazine and John continued grinning at the road. After a few minutes of pretending to read, she closed her magazine and said, "I hope you didn't go overboard on me. You already bought me this jacket and..."

"Amy," John glanced at her, "Don't tell me how to spend my money." He squeezed her knee playfully and added, "Bossy!"

"Sorry," she laughed. "I'm just not used to it."

"You're going to have to get used to it."

"Am I? I've relaxed a lot since I've known you, but I'll never be materialistic. Not with so many people in need."

"Do you think I'm materialistic?"

Amy thought before answering. "You have nice things. You have nice clothes and this car, and... yes. And jeez, your treadmill is better than the ones at the gym. Oh, and then there's Leonard. I'd have to say yes."

"Okay. I won't argue. It's all relative anyway."

Amy grinned to herself and said, "I didn't mean it to be an insult. You're very generous, but you do have nice things -- and you're fond of them."

"I do. I have everything I want," John returned his hand to her knee and let it rest there. They were out of traffic and heading south on Interstate 95 until it branched off to I-85 south of Richmond.

*****

"Erin!" Andrea McGuinness shouted up the stairs, "Will you please get off that computer and come help me?"

Erin sauntered down the stairs. "What is it, Mom?"

"I need your help wrapping gifts so I can get this table cleaned off. Amy and John are going to be here any minute!"

Erin rolled her eyes but picked up a box with a sticky note on it and a roll of paper. "Why are you making such a fuss? You didn't get this nervous when you met Aaron for the first time."

"Oh honey, that was different. Aaron just came for a visit and..." Andrea corrected herself, "Well it isn't just Amy and John, honey. It's Christmas. I want the house to look beautiful."

"It does, Mom," Erin's tone softened too. "I love how our house looks and it smells great too. So what do you know about Amy's new boyfriend? Besides that he's rich?"

Andrea grinned, not sure how much to reveal about her computer skills. "He doesn't update his Facebook, but he's very Googleable."

Erin laughed, "'Googleable?' Jeez, Mom, you cyber-stalker. But what does Amy say about him?"

"Don't you talk to her?"

"Oh, you know I do. But I got really busy at the end of the term and... besides, I want to know what she told you! I mean, it seems pretty serious, bringing him all the way from New York, don't you think? I mean Aaron is coming out, but it isn't that far for him and, hey -- what did Dad say?"

"About what?"

"About John. About Amy bringing a guy home."

"Oh, you know your dad. He was pretty reserved. He didn't complain about it, though."

"Why would he?"

"Oh, I don't know. Christmas used to just be us. He looks forward to seeing his girls and... you're right, why would he?"

"Because we're sharing beds! Right here under your roof!"

Andrea shot Erin a disapproving look, "Well, you're all adults now. You're under our roof, yes, but we're not in charge anymore. Now you're more like guests, and I guess we owe you hospitality."

"Thank you!" Erin held up both arms and looked at the ceiling as if she were thanking God instead of her mother. There were perks to being the youngest girl, one being that her parents had loosened up over the years.

*****

As they approached the outskirts of Charlotte, Amy made an announcement. "We did it. We survived our first road trip and I don't even hate you right now."

"But do you still love me?" John teased.

"Yes. Possibly even more. You didn't complain about my bathroom stops or my driving."

"And you let me get some sleep. Very smart of you. I'm less likely to be a grumpy ass in front of your family."

Amy smiled and turned down a residential street lined with large trees that met overhead, creating a tunnel effect. She pulled into a driveway and turned off the engine. "You ready for this?"

"Yep. Nice place," John commented as he got out of the car, admiring the white traditional colonial home with the big porch. It was evening and light streamed from every window, and green wreaths and Christmas lights adorned every one of them. "Looks like everyone's up."

"It's only nine, silly."

"Is it? You must have driven fast while I slept."

Amy took his arm and led him up the concrete walkway to the door just as her mom stepped out onto the porch, "Amy!"

"Mom!" Amy dropped John's arm and dashed to hug her mother. After a long embrace, her mom held her at arm's distance to have a look at her, then, remembering her manners, turned to John and held her arms out for another hug. John laughed and walked into her welcoming embrace. He wasn't prone to nervousness when meeting people, yet still the friendly reception felt comforting. It gave him the impression that Amy must have said very nice things about him. Ed McGuinness appeared on the porch and displayed much greater reserve. He shook John's hand curtly and asked about the drive.

Stepping inside, John found the interior matched the exterior in traditional tastefulness, with holiday décor throughout. He glanced around quickly, and allowed Ed to take his jacket. He declined the offer of a drink, opting for water, and took a seat on the couch.

*****

12/22

My sister did it again. Actually, she outdid herself this time because this one is not only hotalicious -- he's rich! OMG. I expected someone stuffy and conceited, but holey-mole'! I was way off. And Amy? It's like she has a light bulb behind her face, I almost need sunglasses to look at her. Oh, but she is skin-knee! I tried to give her crap about it, but at least she didn't deny it. She said she got stressed out being real busy with work, plus running, but she's expecting Mom's cooking to put about five pounds on her. HA! I'll probably gain fifteen over the semester break. They said they're going running in the morning and she asked me along, but while those two early birds are out catching worms, I'll be catching some much needed Z's.

Anyway, John seems real nice and down-to-earth too. I asked him if he thought he could handle the McGuinness sisters and he said he has three sisters of his own! Damn, it's too bad John doesn't have a brother. (Aaron if you're reading this I'm only kidding! Stop reading my journal!) I can't believe my sister got so lucky. Scratch that. Yeah I can. But you should see the way he looks at her! Granted they've only been dating a few months, but I don't think Aaron's ever looked at me like that. (Aaron I hope you are reading this! Take some lessons from John!) Omg -- I can't wait to see what he gives her for Christmas!

12/23

I got all my Christmas shopping done today! I got Molly the cutest sweater and Adam a really cool hat. I just need to put the finishing touches on Aaron's gift and wrap everything and I'm done! I wish Mom would let me sleep! She keeps asking me to help her with everything, but I'm still exhausted from finals! I did promise to help her bake tonight. Amy and John are going out with some of Amy's old friends.

I wish Aaron was here. Two more days! Omg, you know you're getting old when you care less about Christmas than sex! Lol. (That's right Aaron -- I am missing you!) I think this is about the longest we've gone without seeing each other.

12/24

Christmas Eve -- Yaya! I swear -- I love Christmas Eve even more than Christmas. And tomorrow night Aaron is coming! Oh-oh-oh, so this morning I went into the bathroom and John was in there in his boxer briefs brushing his teeth. OMG! I apologized and ran off, but not before getting an eyeful of hotness. (Aaron, if you're reading this, knock it off! Besides, I know I don't look like my sister in my underwear either, so can't I just appreciate him for the eye candy that he is?) Anyway, I see him downstairs fully dressed a little while later, sitting at the table drinking coffee and chatting with Mom while she's doing stuff in the kitchen! (Amy was out running.) I think my parents are completely smitten with him. Okay, maybe not Dad, he warms up much slower, but anyway, I ask why he didn't go with her and he said she was doing a long run today and he needed to do a little work. He had his laptop open and then he goes to help Mom get something out of her car, so of course I have a little peek to see what millionaire New Yorkers email about and he has his screen reduced, but in one click I see it is definitely NOT work related! It said, "Jessica, you are lovely as always, but please stop sending me photos. I told you I am in a committed relationship."???? Oh my god, who is Jessica and does Amy know about her? Anyway, he's obviously not busted, unless "please stop sending me photos" is actually code for "please keep sending me photos"? Who knows? I kind of forgot about the unpleasant fact that a rich guy that looks like that is always a flight risk. And then it made me really grateful for Aaron who I know is mine all mine.

Oh, and then this happened tonight: Apparently a couple friends of theirs got engaged and this girl Tracy sent Amy a photo of her ring at the exact moment the guy sent a text to John, and they got all excited and both of them called their friends immediately. Afterwards, John said he was going to be the best man (apparently the girl wants a small wedding and her twin sister will be the maid-of-honor.) Hey, imagine that! Here it is your wedding day and the only attendant in your wedding party is your identical twin? That's gotta be weird. I can't imagine not having at least seven bridesmaids. Anyway, Amy and John started talking about their friends and Amy said they only started dating in the summer and hadn't known each other very long. John got that cute grin on his face and started teasing her about what the 'rules of engagement' are, obviously fishing, and Amy started saying she thinks a couple should have known each other at least a year and if I was a cartoon character, my ears would have grown three times larger, I was straining to hear every word, thinking, "Oh my god, what if he already has a ring for her? What if...?"

Anyway, he teased her good naturedly quite a bit, but I don't think he even disagreed, but Amy was doing that thing where she 'digs her heels in' as Mom says, and John seemed completely amused by her and looks at her like she is the most interesting thing he's ever seen. My sister is so damn lucky!

Less than twenty-four hours and I get to see my Air-Bear! And I know for a fact I'm not getting a ring, cuz Aaron and I already talked about it and we're gonna finish school first and then Aaron has to get a job, so no pressure there! Just some token of affection to let me know I'm his one-and-only. But really, once he gets a job, I'll be expecting a ring soon after that (size 8 Aaron, platinum, princess cut, just in case you're reading this, which you definitely shouldn't be!)

Well, it's almost time for midnight Mass. It will be John's first time (he said he is a Protestant). I wish Aaron was here to see me in my dress, I can't get a good selfie -- oh! Amy's here! Better yet, John's a photographer. Aaron will get to see me in my Christmas Eve outfit.

12/25

Merry Christmas! Today has been wonderful and will be even more perfect when Air-Bear gets here, which should be about three hours. Mom and Dad got me super cute boots and a new purse and -- OMG, John and Amy! Oh, but first, let me just say that John gave Mom and Dad a gift and I didn't know what to expect, except I really imagined something... I don't know, less personal and more expensive? He gave them a photo of Amy! Oh my god, I'm so jealous. Aaron -- you shouldn't be reading this, but if you are, you HAVE to take photos of me. I mean, I know you're not a pro, but anyway, John took this picture of Amy up on a mountain looking over the Hudson Valley and it is stunning. I said, "Wow Amy, that looks like it should be on the cover of Runner's World Magazine!" it is that good! And Amy said, "Oh, you've got to be someone special to be on the cover, not just an average runner with an amazing photographer boyfriend!"

And John says, "Well they do use regular folks too, they do a lot of human interest stories in that magazine." Anyway, I guess Amy didn't know what the gift was ahead of time, but Mom and Dad really love it and Mom already hung it in the hallway and -- oh, oh, I forgot to say what they got each other! Well they didn't open their gifts in front of us, but Amy showed me John gave her a cashmere sweater and a bracelet engraved with, "John and Amy, 9-10" the date of their first date (or so they say, maybe it was when they first had sex! Ha -- maybe it was the same day!) Anyway, Amy's gift to John really impressed him, he kept talking about it all day, and kept looking at it. It's a book she made from photos he took and each and every one is of New York, but not the typical kind of tourist photos, some you can't even tell are New York, but they're blown up big and on the opposite page, Amy wrote a poem to go with each one! Omg, that is totally something I would do, if I weren't so busy with school. Aaron is just going to have to settle for the "public gift" of a shirt, plus the "private gift" - coupons for sex favors! Yes, I know what my guy likes. Hey, I wonder if Amy and John gave "private" gifts?

Anyhoo, Mom and Dad both really liked their gifts from me, and Mom is wearing the earrings right now. Two more hours until Aaron gets here! Oh, and this is weird; I've been getting along with Amy really well this whole time, but tonight she tells the entire family that she needs to talk to all of us about something important, but she wants it to be just our immediate family. WTF??? At first I'm thinking "Oh my god, she's pregnant? Getting married?" But then why wouldn't she just say it instead of scheduling a family meeting? And the way she said it, "immediate family"? That's just rude! I mean Aaron will barely be here twelve hours and he has to disappear? Well Adam is going to stay home with the kids so Molly can come back, and John offered to go do something with Aaron, but what? They don't even know each other and what would they do the day after Christmas? I swear, this better be important, or I am going to have to accept that my sister has morphed into a selfish New Yorker, a real prima donna. I tried to get her to tell me what was up, but she insisted she would tell the whole family at once.

Ah well, I'm not going to let that spoil this fantastic Christmas! Hurry up Aaron!!




Runner Girl Ch. 11



*****

Once they'd received Amy's text, John and Aaron made the drive back to the McGuinness residence and let themselves inside. Aaron had no idea what to expect, so he hung back looking for a clue from John, who found Amy among the four women, all with tear-stained faces and puffy eyes. He took Amy in his arms and held her, not saying anything, just waiting to see if she spoke. He felt another pair of arms circle him, and then another, and in just a few seconds he was engulfed in a McGuinness-girl hug. The feeling was so familiar -- very similar to his own family -- that he spontaneously blurted out, "Where's Dad?" Dropping the "your" before "Dad" did not go unnoticed, and Amy whispered, "Out back -- chopping wood."

John understood immediately. The woodpile was for Ed McGuinness what the batting cage was for John. He went to the window and spotted Ed in the backyard. Without a lot of conscious forethought, he grabbed his jacket from the hook and went out to the backyard as the women watched wordlessly.

Ed glanced up at John, but did not speak or stop the mechanical rhythm of splitting logs. John watched for a minute before he joined and started placing a fresh log on the cutting block after each was split. Several minutes passed with nothing but the sound of the ax splitting wood, until Ed paused and looked at John. "It's an odd feeling, a mixture of pain and relief." Down came the ax. Ka-chunk! "There are a few things a man imagines as the worst possible thing that can happen to his daughter." Ka-chunk! "Then to find out it actually did happen and she survived it. She lived through my nightmare and it didn't destroy her." Ka-chunk!

John nodded in agreement, but intuitively knew to keep his mouth shut. He didn't know what it felt like to have daughters.

"Her not telling us is an entirely different blow." Ed lifted the ax and slipped back into silence while John continued the mechanical gesture of placing a new log on the stump over and over. Ka-chunk! Ka-chunk! Ka-chunk!

When he ran out of logs within reach, John spoke, "She's had a hard time talking about it. She seemed to feel that by not talking about it, she would eventually just get over it."

Ed stared at the empty stump and John glanced at the window and saw a face quickly duck away. "Tell me about that guy who's suing you. The one with the broken nose."

"I don't know much about him, except that he's a guy from Amy's running group who had a thing for her. I saw him holding her wrist and not letting her pass and when I put my hand on his shoulder to have a word with him, he took a swing at me and missed. He was drunk and had a porcelain nose. I'm not a tough guy. I don't get in fights."

Ed's features softened slightly and he said, "Yeah? Not a tough guy? Just a Casanova?"

John raised his eyebrows in surprise and Ed continued, "Let me ask you something. What's the longest monogamous relationship you've been in?"

John thought it over during a brief pause. Did Ed mean completely monogamous? What if monogamy wasn't expected or agreed upon? That certainly didn't constitute cheating, did it? And what kind of an answer did Ed McGuinness expect? Months? Years? He looked back to the window but there was no one there.

"The truth is, Mr. McGuinness, not very long at all. I've never met anyone like Amy before. I love Amy and I'm not going to hurt her."

"Yeah? You say that now, but what about when you get bored in a few months? I know a man in your position gets a lot of opportunity. My daughter's already had to survive a rapist who hurt her physically and mentally and emotionally, and now I have to worry about some New York playboy breaking her heart? You're a wolf in an expensive suit. What the hell do you want with our Amy anyway?"

John felt slightly unnerved at being called a wolf by a man with an ax in his hand and fire in his eyes, but he swallowed and proceeded with the truth.

"I want what you have."

Ed flinched and furrowed his brow, but John went on undeterred. "I want a wife who looks at me like Mrs. McGuinness looks at you after thirty-five years of marriage. I want kids who love me like your girls love you. Kids who grow up to be fantastic adults because I raised them right. I want a family and I'm already convinced I want that with Amy, but she won't even talk to me about it until we ride this planet around the sun and 'experience the four seasons' together." He said, quoting Amy, his voice turning just slightly sing-songy at the end in mimicry.

John's quoting Amy's stance in good humor caused Ed to finally crack a momentary grin. He'd overheard the conversation they'd had the day before, but he still needed to make something clear, so he glared and gestured with the ax still in his hand, "If you hurt Amy, you will regret it. I may not be a young man, but I've got a lot of anger that I can't take out on a guy who's already in prison, so the next guy who pisses me off is going to pay for the sins of a bunch of others."

John nodded in agreement, "Yeah, I know how that is. That's pretty much what happened to Keith. The truth is I was glad he took a swing at me. I actually did hit him hard."

"Good," Ed said. "Sounds like he had it coming. Help me gather up this wood, will you? We'll put it in the shed and go have some coffee."

"Sure," John answered.



Runner Girl Ch. 12



I would like to thank Gaius Petronius for editing. Any mistakes are mine. There are 13 chapters in the story and it is complete. Votes, comments, and emails are appreciated. Thank you for reading! DB 

***** 

Amy looked around Anne's office, waiting for her therapist to return. Late afternoon in January, darkness was setting in, and the room was lit by only a table lamp on the desk. The walls were painted robin's egg blue. The painting of an ocean scene and the overstuffed couch had always been there, but she'd never paid attention to any of the other details of the office. How curious, she thought. 

As Anne entered the room, Amy said, "I can't believe I never noticed that photo of your family behind your desk. Has it always been there?" 

With a gentle laugh Anne replied, "No, I moved it from the desk where it used to face me, so it's no wonder it never struck your eye before." 

"Yes, but your whole office seems different. I feel like I'm just now noticing the efforts you've put into creating such a peaceful setting." 

Anne laughed again. "Well, my office hasn't changed much. But you sure have in the year I've known you." 

"Hmm," Amy nodded and took a drink from her water bottle. "Fourteen months." 

"That's right," Anne confirmed. "How did the holidays go?" Her eyebrows rose in expectation. 

"I told them." 

"You did?" 

"I did." 

"And?" 

"What a huge relief, I can't even tell you. Now I'm not worried about them finding out, but what I didn't expect is that it drew us all closer," She paused and took another drink. "Everyone cried. Well, everyone except my dad. He got angry of course, but not at me, at the situation. Then everyone got really upset that I hadn't told them sooner. I had to do a lot of explaining about that. They couldn't seem to understand that I just didn't want to talk about it and that I was embarrassed and ashamed." 

"Understandable - their reaction, I mean." 

"Yes, I actually thought I was doing them a favor by not burdening them with such horrible news, especially after the fact, when they couldn't do anything about it anyway. But Molly - that's my older sister - Molly asked how I would feel if the tables were turned and the answer was immediately obvious: of course I would want to know!" 

"Of course. And you would be very hurt if she didn't tell you." 

"Yes. So I had some apologizing to do about that, but they weren't looking for an apology; they were just incredibly angry that I went through that experience and horribly sad that I felt I needed to handle it alone. So now my mom is calling me every day, and Molly and Erin have been calling me too. I think it's because they believe they let me drift away. They used to believe me when I kept saying how busy I was with my teaching job, but now they won't have it." 

Anne nodded, and Amy went on, "But I really am busy!" She laughed. "I mean who talks to their mom every day?" 

"Maybe that's something you just need to do for the time being, while she digests this news. Even if it's for just a minute or two each day, and eventually everyone will get back to a reasonable routine." 

"Yes, I owe her that for sure. I do feel bad for her; she's pretty upset." 

"Oh Amy, you don't need anything else to feel bad about. Let your mom just go through her process. Keep the lines of communication open and assure her you're doing alright. Okay?" 

"Okay. I am doing alright." 

"You've made incredible progress. In the time I've known you, you've come so far!" 

"True. I'm able to have sex and not freak out. I told my family, I told Tracy. I'm feeling... better." 

"But?" 

"Well... I don't know. I can't say what, but I feel like I'm still missing something, like I'm not completely healed, but I'm not sure what else I need to do." 

"Perhaps there is nothing more to do? Or when there is, it will reveal itself?" 

"Yes, well, I did just want to believe that time would just pass and I would feel better, but I've really been feeling like there is some action I should take. Maybe I should try writing about it?" 

Anne nodded, "I did suggest that in a previous session." 

"You did, didn't you? But back then it seemed counterproductive, like I needed to just quit thinking about it and move on. But now I can see that I can write about it with a different perspective. I think I can write about... about getting over it." 

"Yes, and it took time to gain hindsight on the experience." Anne wrote something on her notepad and changed subjects, "How did your family react to meeting John?" 

Amy laughed, "Fantastic. He's really likable, you know. My sisters love him, my parents too. Well I mean my mom loves him, and my dad will warm up to him. But you want to know who really loves him? My sister's kids. Gosh, you should have seen him with them, Anne. He's like a big kid himself, and he had so much fun playing with them." 

"Interesting. Has he ever talked to you about having kids?" 

Amy blushed, suddenly embarrassed, "I can't believe you asked that. I thought it was way too soon for that discussion, but on the way home he asked me if I pictured myself raising kids in New York." 

"And?" 

"Well... I love New York and I absolutely love my job. But I... I don't know. I'm really surprised that he would consider leaving the city. I mean, his business is here." 

"Well, how about you? How do you feel about kids and New York City?" 

"Gosh. I didn't expect to be having this conversation so soon." 

"Well, it's good to find out if you have similar goals, to imagine a life together." 

"I can't imagine a life without him." 

"And he knows that?" 

"He does." Amy smiled and blushed again, surprised that discussing her feelings about John with her psychologist would embarrass her after all they'd discussed in previous sessions, but then she realized what she felt and blurted out, "I feel vulnerable. This is scary. Big. It's not just dating." 

Anne nodded in agreement. 

"Oh, and I didn't tell you about England." 

"Oh yes, how did that go?" 

"Amazing. It was so fun and wonderful. John indulged me and showed me all the touristy things, like Buckingham Palace and Westminster Abbey and Parliament and all that. We ran a lot, which I really loved. It's a fun way to see the city, I think. He also showed me some of his favorite more obscure places to go. But... there was this one thing. We had our first fight." 

"What happened?" 

"Well, this woman showed up at his flat. A pretty blonde, named Sarah. Did I tell you he owns an apartment in London? Anyway, someone kept banging on the door and John answered and Sarah came barging in, yelling about unanswered phone calls and changed locks, and then she sees me and stops dead in her tracks. She looked embarrassed for about ten seconds, then she turned all business-like and told John she understood. And then she scribbled something down on a card, handed it to him, and left." 

"Do you know what she wrote?" 

"Yes, she wrote, 'A proper good-bye requires a thoughtful parting gift. Do call Hannah at this number today.'" 

"What does that mean, do you have any idea?" 

"Well I didn't at that moment, but John just laughed about it and said that Hannah owns a posh clothing store." 

"And so was this an ex-girlfriend or a call girl?" 

Amy looked at Anne in shock, "Call girl? John doesn't have to pay for sex!" 

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply... It just seems very forward to request a high-priced gift." 

"John said she expects him to take her shopping every time he comes to London. He blamed himself for letting Sarah set the pattern." 

"So she is an ex-girlfriend?" 

"He wouldn't call her that, exactly. He kept saying she was just someone he used to see in London." 

"Hmmm. Very different from the way he treats you. But changing the locks? Sounds like it was pretty serious." 

"No. John's too generous. Sometime foolishly so. That is what our argument was about. He actually called the number and gave that Hannah person his credit card number!" 

"Really? Why?" 

"Well he said he wanted to finalize things and that it wasn't much money... But it was, Anne, it was a lot of money! But then he said something to Hannah that would embarrass Sarah. He said, "Please be sure to tell Sarah that the well has run dry and she will need to dig elsewhere from now on.'" 

"That isn't that bad." 

"I know, but he insists that Sarah will be humiliated and angry. I couldn't understand why he'd even pay her off like that when there are so many people in real need, but he told me he does a lot more for people in real need and that what he gave Sarah wasn't even worth mentioning. I complained that he just paid off some hussy with what was more than a month's salary for me and he said he'd gladly give me a year's salary if I'd let him! I was furious!" 

Anne laughed. "Of course you were. And how did he react to your anger?" 

"He was amused. That infuriates me too. I told him I love my job and I wasn't after his money and he just smiled and laughed and said that was one of the many things he loves about me." 

Anne laughed and shook her head. 

"What?" 

"Amy, you don't need to worry about John and what he does with his money." 

"But Anne, he is so wasteful! And that was the second time he paid someone off just because it was easier. First Keith, and now this Sarah women. I mean, I know it's his money, but... it just doesn't seem right." 

Anne nodded, "I can see what you mean, but it sounds like he has the money and would rather spend his time and energy on more productive things than fighting with people over what he considers a trivial sum of money. I have a feeling if it were something big, he would put his foot down. After all, he is an astute businessman." 

"Yes. Yes, I know. I just wish... I don't know, Anne. Sometimes I just don't know, I didn't expect my life to look like this. He's having a dinner party next week at his place. Twelve people and he's having it catered. It's a work thing. I just... I just never pictured that I would be the kind of person who goes to dinner parties like this. I don't even know what to wear. I'm kind of nervous about it." 

"Well, Amy, just see how it goes. You might have a great time. Just try and keep an open mind. It's true, you may find that you're incompatible, but so far you have been wrong about him more than once. He's been good for you." 

"He has." 

"And it sounds like you're good for him." 

"Well... I don't want his money. And I appreciate his photography. And his humor. He really was amazing around my family and the trip to London was phenomenal. I'm very lucky, Anne. Just feeling vulnerable." 

"That's normal for any new love, Amy." 

"Good," Amy laughed. "Yay! I'm normal!" She threw up her hands in cheer. 

Anne laughed too. "Actually, I think you are an extraordinary young woman, Amy." 

"Thanks, Anne. I'm feeling good these days. I'll be brave about the dinner party. John wants me there and I don't want any more Sarah types swooping in on him." 

Anne laughed again and nodded in agreement and noted that their time was up. 

***** 

John gradually woke to the feeling of Amy's back pressed into him and her butt grinding into him as she rotated her hips. He rolled her, smoothly and gracefully, onto her back and crawled on top, his hardness pressing at her entrance. As she wrapped her legs around him, he entered her, coming into full wakefulness. "I love you," he whispered, becoming more and more alert each second. "I love you so much," he whispered again in her ear. 

"Mmmm, I love you too," she whispered back, "I love waking up with you.." 

Their bodies moved in unison, a slow dance that increased in tempo, as John touched foreheads with Amy and looked into her eyes. "I really love you," he said again, not that she needed convincing, but because it felt right saying it. He needed to say it, to keep saying it, for the feeling was too intense to keep inside. "I love you, Amy," he said again, and her eyes locked with his, as she plumbed the magnitude and depth of his feeling. 

"I love you, John," she returned, barely able to speak, overcome with emotion and sensation that had become one and the same. She realized their lovemaking felt like a massage, each stroke a confirmation of emotion, the sensation heightened by the raw vulnerability of looking into each other's eyes. 

"You feel amazing," John whispered, wishing to enjoy the feeling forever, but also aware that if he kept up the momentum, even at this controlled pace, orgasm was inevitable, like a train inching its way upward to the crest of a mountain. He didn't want to stop, unless she needed more time, but she was matching his thrusts from below and as if reading his mind, she gasped, "Don't stop." 

And so he didn't. They were able to enjoy the slow ride to a simultaneous orgasm that left them both shuddering, and giggling with blissful satiety. "Oh wow," Amy spoke first. "I loved that. I love lazy Sunday morning sex with you." 

"What?" John pretended to take offense, "You're calling me lazy? Why, I ought to -" 

Amy squealed with laughter, "No, no, I didn't mean lazy! I meant relaxed! You know -" 

John turned serious and said, "I do know. It was so natural, so easy, so, so, so fucking good." 

"We're in agreement then," Amy giggled and ran her hand along the side of his face. "I really do love you. And I love making love with you." 

"Agreed," John smiled down at her and then rolled over onto his side. 

"What time are your guests coming over?" 

"Five o'clock." 

"And what should I wear?" 

"Oh, it's casual. Anything would be fine - just be comfortable." 

"Anything? You're having twelve people over and having it catered and telling me to be casual." 

"Yeah, sure. You'll see. It's a completely casual group, couple of investors, a few construction guys. Oh, and William and Tracy." 

"William and Tracy are coming?" Amy sat up, excited that she would know someone. 

"Yeah, and Beverly, Tracy's grandmother." 

"Oh, I'll call Tracy and see what she's wearing. Maybe that little black dress I wore in London." 

"I love you in that dress. But I really don't think people will be dressed up, especially considering the guests. It's a really mixed bunch, I promise. I'll probably wear jeans and a nice shirt." 

"With a white t-shirt underneath?" She grinned, reminding him of the effect the jeans and white t-shirt combination had on her. 

"For you, yes. And you can skip the panties for me," he teased and Amy wrinkled her nose. 

"I think I'd be too self-conscious to do that tonight. Hey, I'm going to have to go home for a while and do some grading. I'll go for a run too, then get ready over hear at about four o'clock?" 

"Oh, do you have to go? Can't you just grade essays here and hang out with me? Run on the treadmill?" 

"But Freddy! My poor kitty is so neglected!" 

John thought for a second and said, "You can bring him here, you know. Let him stay. Then you won't have to always go home and check on him." 

"Did you just ask my cat to move in with you?" 

"Yep. Run it by Freddy. Let him know my offer. Tell him I have more space and I serve premium cat food." 

"You're so weird," Amy said. "Propositioning my cat." 

"Only because you've made it clear you won't move in with me. This way you'd have to stay here more. I'd use Freddy for leverage." 

Amy rose out of bed and got dressed as she continued to shake her head at his silliness. "I'm going to find out what Tracy's wearing, but I can almost already predict it will be a cute retro dress. And her grandmother will be dressed like a senior super-model, and you and William will both be as dapper as hell. That clinches it: I'm wearing the black cocktail dress." 

"No panties?" 

Amy shook her head and rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. 

"Do you have time to eat breakfast with me, Runner Girl?" 

"Can it be a quickie? Bagels?" 

"Sure. We're going to have an amazing dinner. You're going to like Leah and Kyle. They're a married couple who cook for me when I have dinner parties. Tonight will be Mediterranean food." 

"Finger-licking hummus?" 

"You bet." 

***** 

Amy sipped her drink and looked around John's living room at the mixed crowd, wishing she'd asked more questions, not about what to wear, but about the project John was working on. She felt attractive and comfortable in her black dress, but if it were a contest, the prize for "best dressed" would go, hands down, to the elegant Beverly Wilcox, with her granddaughter, the stylish Tracy, topping the field in the "most creative" category. 

She hadn't expected to see Alicia and Ray, John's friends whom she'd met at the shelter on Thanksgiving Day, but then she remembered that they mentioned a project they were working on with John. They were both warm and affable, but Amy grew self-conscious as she came to realize that everyone assumed she knew the nature of the project they were working on. She hadn't felt quite that way since fifth grade, when she'd contracted strep throat and missed the first week of school. She blamed herself, feeling self-centered, recalling that the only questions she'd asked were superficial ones about how to dress. 

The only suit in the crowd adorned John's business associate, Herman. Amy was tickled to see the distinguished Englishman shamelessly lavish attention on Beverly Wilcox. There were two men each dressed in blue jeans with a nice shirt; these were Don and Lenny, who seemed to know each other very well. They looked like an odd pair, Lenny being tall and thin with a beard and ponytail, Don with short grey hair and a stout build. Both men seemed to know Ray well; Don joked with him, smacked him on the back from time to time, and referred to him as "Kid.". 

Amy wandered over to Tracy and William, and engaged them with questions about their wedding plans. It soon became obvious that the ceremony was more William's domain than Tracy's. "It's because of my work," Tracy explained. "I spend way too much time talking to brides trying to create the 'perfect day' and it's such a money-making racket! I'm actually way more excited about the honeymoon. We're keeping the wedding small and intimate and I'm leaving the details up to William." 

Amy looked at William in surprise and he shrugged. "But what about flowers? Surely you've always thought about what flowers you'd have at your own wedding?" 

"Nope. I've given complete control of the flowers to my former boss, Pierre. Told him, 'Have at it.' The last thing I want to think about is flowers for my own wedding!" 

"Wow," Amy shook her head in dismay. "So many things are not how I expected." 

"I agree," William said. "I never expected to plan a wedding, or to attend a dinner party at John's with such an eclectic guest list." 

"I know," Amy whispered. "What's up with that?" 

William nodded to John, who seemed about to make a toast, but instead John said, "Hey, we're about to go over the blueprints, so join around the table if you're interested. If not, carry on." 

Amy placed her plate of appetizers on the bar and walked over to join the crowd gathered around the table, while William and Tracy hung back in conversation with Alicia. A gentleman whom Amy had not yet met was talking. "With both plans, we have a large common room and kitchen, but as you can see, with plan A we have individual rooms that are very small, and plan B has larger rooms that are shared." 

"Plan A, definitely." It was Ray who spoke up. "It's important that the guys have their own space." 

"But look how small they are," Don said. "A guy can barely turn around in there, almost like a prison cell. Maybe we oughta give 'em the option of sharin' a bigger room?" Don asked. 

Everyone looked at Ray, which surprised Amy, since he was obviously the youngest man in the group. "But they aren't prison cells, Don. The guys get to come and go as they please, but more important, they get a good night's sleep and a place to lock up their possessions while they're out working or looking for work. It's better if they don't hang out in their rooms all the time anyway. They can hang out here," He pointed on a blueprint to a room marked "Main Room." "Or here or here," Ray said pointing to the areas marked "Media Center" and "Kitchen." "They should be interacting, socializing, looking for work. Not hanging out in those rooms. Those are for sleeping and storing personal belongings, not isolating or being high or whatever." 




Runner Girl Ch. 12



John spoke up, "Well, Ray knows what he's talking about. If we can house the same number of men and give them the dignity of a little private space, I agree." A collective murmur of approval spread throughout the group. "And Ray, you said you wanted to talk about laundry?" 

"Yeah, I did some research and found a company that will supply washers and dryers and even maintain them, if they're coin operated. But I think we should buy them outright and put our own coin machines on them." 

"Why not make laundry free?" Beverly asked. "We can cover the cost of the machines." 

"We can give them a coin allowance - or even tokens so they don't spend them somewhere else. I like the accountability of using coins. Even if we give them a coin allowance, or tokens, they might think twice about washing a single item all by itself, you know? It's just human nature to take advantage of any situation. We don't want to make anything too easy on them. They should feel like they are getting a fair deal, a foothold. Not a handout." 

"This is a homeless shelter!" Amy blurted out, not realizing she spoke out loud until all eyes turned and looked at her. 

"No, sweetheart, not a shelter," John said. "We're not just providing a shelter, more of a..." 

"A foothold," Herman said. "I like the way Ray worded that. A foothold for homeless men who want to get on their feet." 

"Yes, shelter is the basic need, but it's way more than that. We'll be providing an opportunity for guys like me. Guys that want to work, but need a little help getting on track. No handouts. Lots of accountability." 

"I like the name 'Foothold,'" John said. "We should vote on that, so next meeting bring your ideas. Let's put a name on this project." 

Amy stood stunned in amazement. Right under her nose this big thing was going on and she didn't even know about it. She felt humbled that she had been so judgmental about John and his money. What charitable thing had she done while he was making plans - big plans - to help the homeless? Sure, she fed some people on Thanksgiving, but... 

John noticed Kyle at the doorway and nodded towards him, "Dinner is ready. Shall we eat?" 

Amy wanted to ask John why he didn't tell her about this project, but she realized before she formed the question that this is not something he would brag about. She listened to the discussion over dinner and learned that Lenny and Don worked with Ray and that they were going to be doing the rehab work on the building, to make it habitable. They also had plans to train men to work in construction, if they wanted to learn a trade. William planned to create the media center, and Beverly had a slew of volunteers lined up from her church to help with resumes and job searches. Amy watched how they deferred to Ray's expertise and how he referred without shame to his experience of being homeless. 

John told the group about a woman on the West Coast who had success with a similar project. "Ms. Butler has been very helpful in correspondence, but I want you all to meet her and learn from her experience. There's no reason to recreate the wheel. They've got a great model we can learn from and then adapt as we see fit." 

"Another dinner at John's in a month?" William joked. 

"Why not? I think that's a capital idea," Herman said. "It would give me reason to visit New York on a consistent basis. At least until we get 'Foothold' established." He looked at Beverly, who smiled demurely. 

After dinner, Amy found an opportunity to intercept Ray as he emerged from the restroom. "Ray, can I talk to you for a second?" 

"Sure," he answered. 

"Were you really homeless?" 

Ray laughed, "Well, technically I had an address. But I couldn't go home and I spent a lot of nights sleeping outside." 

Amy paused, "I think that's pretty admirable. I mean, not that you were homeless, but that you talk about it so freely, without shame." 

"Oh I wasn't always like this. You should have seen me shaking when I told Alicia," he laughed. "I thought she'd break up with me if she knew how I lived. But as time went on I told more and more people. I mean, I don't use it as an icebreaker or anything, but if it seems like it can be useful, I don't mind telling people. It was just a thing I went through. It doesn't define me." 

Amy nodded in agreement, although it was just sinking in. "So the criterion is, you tell people if you think it might be helpful to them?" 

"Yeah, but I don't always know when that is. So basically, I'm just honest if it comes up. That's what led me to being involved in this project. William asked if he could tell John about me and when I met John he said he'd been looking for something to put his money into. So were Beverly and Herman. So John asked me to help out and things just started falling together. John found the property and brought in Herman. We both knew Beverly, and when I told my boss about it - that's Don - well, he wanted in too. But it started with me and John. I think it's pretty funny that I can be useful to such a smart business guy, but John doesn't know crap about living on the streets." Ray laughed good-naturedly. 

Amy smiled back at Ray and thanked him, for his transparency. She knew now what she needed to do.



Runner Girl Ch. 13



John heard Amy knock and let herself in. "You don't have to knock, you know. You have a key, just let yourself in." 

"Oh, okay. It just seemed like a courteous thing to do." 

"We're way past that," John smiled and was met with a serious gaze. 

"I have to show you something." Amy held a stack of magazines close to her chest. "Remember how I asked if I could send that photo you took into Runner's World?" 

"What?" John's face lit up. "They actually used it?" 

Amy grinned and nodded while biting her lip and looking down, she matched his exuberance with shyness. "Page 42," she handed him a magazine. 

John flipped to the page and saw the photo of Amy, the one he took of her overlooking the Hudson Valley, sweat beads visible on her brow, a look of determination on her face. The photo took half the page, and underneath was an article. He looked up at her in surprise. 

"I really didn't think they'd use it. But they did." 

"Let's go sit," he said, and she followed him to the couch and they both read silently together. 

Running Is My Solace, by Amy McGuinness 

I started running as a pre-teen, and it would be accurate to say that running molded me into the woman I am today. As I grew, I felt not only my legs and heart growing stronger, but my character as well. Running contributed to my independence, my health, and my competitive nature. I've often wondered how I'd have turned out if I hadn't been a runner. Sure I'd have many of the same values, but would I be the woman I am today? Would I have the inner strength and stamina to survive and even thrive with what was coming my way? 

A little over a year ago, I was the victim of violent crime. I was raped in my own home by a man I'd met on the internet, a man whom I'd just gone on a date with. That man is now serving time in prison for raping me as well as two other women. He lost his freedom, but it's taken me a while to get my own back. 

I never stopped running; in fact, I upped my mileage this past year. But I was also running away from an experience that I couldn't cope with, that I didn't want to have as part of my make-up, so I pushed the memory down and tried not to think about it. I didn't want anyone to know what had happened to me, so I didn't tell anyone. It was pretty easy to keep the secret, since I was relatively new to the city, and after the rape I became withdrawn and I was riddled with shame. I put in my miles, went to work, showed up, and fulfilled my commitments, but I was not flourishing, I was not thriving. I joined a running group, but mostly just for the accountability. I met the group on Saturday, but then took off on my own. I ran by myself and kept my problems to myself. 

I allowed the "victim" label to permeate and infiltrate my very being. Where I once had been confident and brave, I now looked over my shoulder. But it wasn't just the fear of being victimized again. I lived in constant fear that someone would find out and I would become known as the woman who got herself raped. 

But that isn't what happened: I didn't allow this crime to happen. I was overpowered, and I am not responsible for what happened to me. I spent a year in therapy, which was really helpful, but it was in finally telling friends and family that I got my mental strength back. I wanted to do it alone, but letting other people help me actually made me stronger. Eventually I met a friend who also had things in his past he wasn't proud of, but he showed me how to put it to good use. That friend not only has freedom from worrying what people think of him, he has also used his awful experience to help others. He told me he can't change what happened in the past, but he does have the power to put the experience to good use. 

At first I didn't believe that telling people I was raped would be helpful to anyone. But now I'm learning that it wasn't the crime that was important - it's what I've done since then that matters. 

I'm grateful that I had running to fall back on while I processed this. Running helps me stay strong physically and mentally, and it took a while, but I'm now even stronger than I was before I was raped. That four-hour ordeal that I suffered last October was horrible, but it was just something that happened to me. I didn't choose to have that experience, but while it is now a part of who I am, it doesn't define me. I'm a complex woman and a survivor. I'm a runner, I am strong, and I am free. 

John looked up at Amy and said, "Wow." 

Amy didn't answer. She wasn't sure what to say. 

John spoke again, "Wow. I'm really proud of you." 

"You are?" Amy's shoulders relaxed in relief. "I mean, I may sound like I don't care what other people think in that article, but I really care about what you think." 

"I think you are amazing." 

"But... what if people who know you see this article." 

"They will. They will because I'm going to show it to them. Is it out on the newsstands yet?" 

"I think people who subscribe already have it." 

"Is it on the internet?" 

"I'm sure it must be." 

"Wow," he said again. He hugged her again and went to the counter to pick up his phone. "Oh look, William's already seen it. My sister Tori as well." 

Amy almost panicked, but shook it off. She needed to be okay with this. 

"Tori loves the photo and says she wants to meet you. And she called you brave," John read from his phone. "William complimented the photo and said the magazine has a circulation of over sixteen thousand. He said he's proud of you." 

"Sixteen thousand doesn't seem like that much." 

"People aren't buying magazines like they used to. The magazine claims to have five million readers online. Either way, a lot of people will see this. Aren't you happy?" 

"Yes, well... yes. I'm just so surprised. It was kind of a whim, really. I showed it to Anne and she said I should send it in, and I was like 'Oh, yeah, sure' and..." She sat up straight and looked him in the eye. "Very happy." Then she slumped again momentarily and said, "What will my students think?" Then she sat up again and said, "I have nothing to be ashamed of. And it's a fantastic photo." 

"Yes," John laughed looking at the page again, "A beautiful photo of a beautiful woman. And now we're both famous!" 

***** 

Amy walked into her classroom after the bell rang. She had been in the principal's office, showing him the article before he heard about it from someone else. He had been kind and completely supportive, but now she was a minute late to class. When she walked in, the students were whispering, but when they saw her the class fell silent. 

They know, she concluded. It only took one person to see the article and the news would spread like wildfire. Amy took a deep breath and knew to focus on her lesson. Today she was teaching a creative writing lesson, one she really enjoyed, but she rushed through it quickly to get the students working and their eyes off her. When the bell rang, she dismissed the class and the students hurried out, except for Shelly, who lingered behind. Amy expected her to have a question about the lesson, since the girl was one of her more conscientious students, but instead Shelly just stood in front of her, speechless, with tears glistening in her eyes. "Thank you," she said, then hugged Amy. Then she too, hurried out of the class, leaving Amy breathing deeply and swallowing back her own tears. "You're welcome," she answered, although the girl was already gone. 

EPILOGUE: 

"Did you miss me?" John said, taking a seat next to Amy. 

"Oh, I've been busy talking to Alicia and Ray, and then Beverly and Herman. I've probably been to only about a dozen weddings, but I must say it's probably the most fun of any I've been to." 

"Yes, maybe William will quit his macho-librarian job to become a wedding planner?" 

Amy laughed, "Did you get some great photos?" 

"Yes, but pulling double-duty as photographer and best man has not left me enough time to spend with my own fiancée." 

"Well, luckily it is a small wedding." 

"Yes, only one bridesmaid. You're going to need..." John looked up at the sky like he was counting. "Six at a minimum." 

"How'd you calculate that?" 

"My sisters and yours equal five, plus Tracy?" 

Amy laughed, "Tracy will sure stand out in that line up!" 

"Tracy always stands out," John laughed as he gestured over to Tracy who was dancing with Ray. "Even next to her identical twin sister, she manages to look unique and beautiful at the same time." 

"That's Tracy," Amy laughed. "Look at William." It was easy to find the groom in the small crowd: he was dancing with Beverly, Tracy's grandmother. "Did you know he could dance like that?" 

"I taught him." 

"Pfffft!" Amy rolled her eyes and laughed. "And I suppose you're too busy to dance with me, Mr. Heywood?" 

"Nope. I've taken over seven hundred photos. I think I've earned a break to dance with the future Mrs. Heywood." 

John stood and offered Amy his elbow, and the two made their way to join their friend on the dance floor. 

The End 

***** 

This is the end of my 'Manhattan Girl' trilogy. I would like to sincerely thank Gaius Petronius for all his hard work editing for me. This story would be full of errors if it weren't for his sharp eye, and if there are any typos, it's because I sometimes even overlook his edits! IanSaulWhitcomb reads everything I write and offers input and encouragement. He is a wonderful storyteller and a great friend. Michael is a mentor who pushes me to find my own voice. Someday I hope to evolve into the writer he already seems to see in me. I would like to thank Literotica for offering this free site to share my writing with a diverse group of readers around the world. Lastly, I would like to thank you, for reading my words, and especially if you bothered to vote, comment, or email. Please check my bio for updates on future projects. DB.