you lean back in your chair, your eyes tracing the tattoos on his chest.

one expanding across his collar bones, another down his ribs, and one even lower..

the camera projecting on your computer gives you a great view of him working out.

its a small camera that you set up on his treadmill, one he'd never notice.

you watch him as he slows down to a walk, sweat glistening off his abs.

the band of his shorts hanging low on his hips.

he holds onto the bars of the treadmill and leans down, until he's eye level with the camera.

your heart races, as he smirks.

"let me know when you get tired of watching."