Ezra

“Don’t be scared to throw a punch, birdie. Come on!” I encourage as she hits a little harder. “That’s better!”

The chill in the basement does nothing to help the sweat that trails down my spine. Wren pants in front of me, bouncing on the heels of her feet.

Her skin glistens with sweat, and somehow I can’t forget the image of her last night in the pool.

The red bikini clinging to her breasts and ass, hair wet and sticking to her face, water droplets adorning her ...