by Ford, Aria
“Don’t do anything that makes me sick,” she threatened, “or I, because I can, and I will kick your ass. Got it?”
Dustin grinned, his eyes slightly glazed from copious amounts of alcohol. “We’re just having fun. I promise I’m a nice guy.”
“Whatever.” She turned to me and then looked at Brian. “Let’s go.”
We all watched Brittany stumble across the street to the other bar.
“You sure she’s going to be okay?” I asked Lindsey, feeling like I should somehow be the hero that saved the girl but not really caring all that much to step in tonight.
“She’s fine. It’s a typical Saturday night for Brittany, trust me.”
Chapter 2
Lindsey
“Blah, blah, blah.”
That’s all I could hear. My psychology professor was droning on about something, but my brain couldn’t focus. All I could think about was swimming or the lack thereof. I hadn’t been in the pool in three days. Sure, that wasn’t a big deal for some, but for me, it was career ending. I had to do something quick or my hopes of making the team and winning an Olympic gold medal were going to evaporate.
Why my trainer up and left me hanging was anybody’s guess, but I wanted to kick him in the kneecaps or maybe somewhere else a bit more painful. I couldn’t do this. Sitting in a classroom was not fixing my situation. I needed a trainer—now. I checked my watch, fifteen minutes before class would be over. I got the gist of it.
I walked out, doing my best to be as sneaky as possible, but knowing I was completely failing. Nothing I could do about it. The professor can get mad, but I had bigger problems.
Tanner. His name kept popping into my head. Had he been serious when he offered to train me? I guess there’s only one way I’d ever know for sure.
I quickly slid my thumb over my contacts list and pressed his name with a picture of him on the side. God, he was hot. He looked like a surfer. Had the dirty-blond hair, the tanned skin, and the muscular body of a man who was constantly working out in the water and in the gym. I’ve always had a crush on him. What girl doesn’t? At the bar, I noticed he was checking me out, even flirting a little. While we’ve joked around in the past, he has always been like a brother to me, and I’ve never even thought about what it would be like to date him—or sleep with him.
“Hey, sexy,” he answered on the second ring.
That hot little shiver of desire washed over me the second I heard his voice, “Hey yourself.”
“You’re calling me in the middle of the day. Aren’t you supposed to be in school or something?”
“Yes, I am, kind of. Whatever. Were you serious the other night?” I asked, cutting to the heart of the matter.
“About?”
“Training me.”
“Hell, yeah I was. I would love to get my hands on that hot little body and mold you into the Olympian I know you are,” he said.
His words were meant as a joke. I think. But my mind went somewhere else. A vision of him running his hands over my naked body popped into my head, completely distracting me from what I was supposed to be doing.
“Good, thank you. I’ll have my dad work out all the payment and stuff. I have practice tonight at four, and then, usually, I would train from six to nine. Does that work for you?”
He was silent for a few seconds. “Yep, that works. Are we training at the school?”
I thought about it briefly. “High school down the road from the college,” I blurted, giving him the address. “We can work out the details later.”
“See you tonight, beautiful.”
“Bye,” I said.
I relished the feeling that came over me. He was always using various terms of endearment when he talked to me. It was something he had always done, but now the words felt like there was a little more meaning behind them, like he really thought I was beautiful and sexy.
With a plan in place, I managed to get through my next two classes without completely spacing out. Instead of worrying about what I was going to do, I was focused on seeing Tanner. I couldn’t wait!
“Come on, Lindsey,” my swim team coach hollered.
I bit back the foul language I wanted to spew at him. The guy was not in the same league as Tanner or my previous trainer. He was a college swim team coach—not an Olympic coach.
I used my arms to pull myself up and out of the pool, standing there on the cement, water dripping off my legs, I put my hands on my hip, “I’m doing the best I can,” I seethed.
“No, you’re not,” Coach Dewey shouted. “You are better than this. You’re supposed to be heading off to the Olympics. You aren’t going anywhere if you don’t get your head in it. Now get your ass in there and do it again.”
I growled, “What was my time?”
He narrowed his gaze at me. “twenty-nine point two.”
Ouch . That was definitely not good.
“I’ll do better,” I said, stretching my arms and moving my neck around.
I was working on my fifty-meter freestyle run. If I hoped to have a chance at a medal, I had to get down to the twenty-four second range. Five seconds is a lot to shave off. I hoped Tanner could whip my ass into shape.
The hour-long practice was nothing compared to what was coming. I trained six days a week, one hour with the San Diego State team and then three hours with my trainer. We had been granted access to use the local high school’s pool, but I didn’t know if that was still possible since it had been arranged with my previous trainer.
Once practice was over, I raced home. My parents spoiled me, there was no doubt in my mind. They paid for my apartment, demanding I focus on my education and swimming. When I lived at home, my dad had put in a huge pool so I could train without leaving. It also allowed my parents to keep an eye on the trainer. There had been too many horror stories of trainers abusing the young women in their charge.
“Hi,” Tanner said, meeting me in the parking lot of the high school.
“You’re early,” I said, climbing out of my little black Mazda Miata.
“And you’re late. Rule number one, if you’re not fifteen minutes early, you’re late,” he said in a serious tone.
I looked at him and rolled my eyes. “Whatever. I will fire you. Practice went long. We’re gearing up for our meet at home against the Nevada Relays. Then the following week we go up against USC. It’s going to be a tough couple of weeks.”
He nodded. “You’ll do fine.”
“I hope so.”
He greeted me by putting his hands on my waist and giving me a quick kiss on the cheek, “I’ll let you get away with it this time, but next time, you won’t get off so easy.”
“Hmm, what will my punishment be?” I said it in a voice dripping with sexual connotation, and I knew the instant it had the desired effect.
His hands dropped from my waist, and he stepped back. “Get changed. I’ll be at the pool waiting.”
I laughed and quickly went inside to put on my suit.
When I got out to the pool, he was in trainer mode. His shirt was off. It made my heart leap and my stomach do flip flops. When had he become so fucking manly? He wasn’t that gangly teenager I remembered or the kind of cute, older college guy. He was a man in every way. I couldn’t help but stare at the defined pectoral muscles that flowed into his washboard stomach. His arms weren’t overly muscular but perfectly defined. The tattoo wrapping around his bicep practically had my mouth watering as I thought about holding that exact area while he drove into me.
“Uh, Linds?”
I looked up at him, and he was staring back at me with those green eyes that said he knew exactly where my mind had been going.
“Sorry,” I squeaked.
“Please, feel free to worship my body, but I get to do the same without you slapping me or your brother kicking my ass.”
I shook my head. “I wasn’t worshiping your body. Get over yourself.” I said it with as much disdain as I could interject into my words. I doubt it worked, but I walk
ed closer to him. “Train me.”
He eyed me up and down in my plain one-piece blue swimsuit.
“I plan to. Get in and let’s see what I’m working with here.”
I instantly felt apprehensive. Today was an off day. If I couldn’t pull better times than I had at swim practice, he would probably laugh at me for even trying to make it on the Olympic team.
He sensed my hesitation. “Everything okay?” he asked.
“Yes, sorry. Remember, I need a trainer because I need to improve, not because I’m a gold medalist—yet.”
He looked at me, cocked his head to the side and said, “I only train the best, Lindsey. I want to train you because I know you’re the best.”
The way he said it inspired me. His words gave me the confidence I needed to try. I wanted to be the best to make him proud of me.
Chapter 3
Tanner
“Lengthen your strokes. You’re not extending your arms like I told you to,” I yelled across the pool.
My client wanted his kid to be the next Michael Phelps. It wasn’t going to happen, but the dude was paying me double my normal fee to try. The extra income meant I could send more to my mom. Maybe I’d buy her a new Beamer. The kid wasn’t terrible, but he just wasn’t as good as Lindsey.
Dammit. Again. I couldn’t get Lindsey off the brain. Yesterday had made me a little crazy, watching her swim across the pool, turn and move through the water back to where I stood on the side. Her lean body stretched with every stroke. She wasn’t as tall as most professional female swimmers, but she was just as fast—maybe faster. I knew I could take her all the way to the Olympics. Her body was perfect.
Stop! She was Brian’s sister and a client. I don’t know what had changed, but every time I thought about her or looked at her, my mind jumped to me buried deep inside her. I wanted her more than I have ever wanted another woman. It was harder than hell to concentrate on anything else. Even now I could feel my dick hardening at the thought of running a hand over her tight ass, squeezing and pulling her into me.
My young client jumped out of the pool at the opposite end. “What are you doing?” I shouted, my frustration level growing.
He didn’t listen quite like Lindsey did. I could admit I was kind of an ass when I trained. I pushed people harder than they liked, but the results were always what they wanted. Some people pushed back. Then there were those, like Lindsey, who took everything I said and used it to get better. This kid was struggling. He refused to take my advice and continued to do what he thought was best. The kid was a pain in the ass.
“If you can’t listen to what I say, you aren’t going to get better,” I told the kid stalking toward me, leaving wet footprints on the perfectly smooth cement in his wake.
“I don’t care. My dad will hire a different trainer. Maybe I can find a hot chick to take over. You’re a dick,” he said, glaring at me as he grabbed his towel.
We were at his mansion, training in his Olympic-sized pool his father had put in on the grounds. The brat was spoiled. The pool was, of course, indoors and outfitted with every amenity, including a well-stocked bar. I needed a drink.
“Hire another trainer. I don’t care. Maybe you’re not good enough for me. I’m the best. My clients are the best. You won’t be the best if you go elsewhere, but that’s not my problem.”
“Dude, you’re such an asshole.”
I chuckled. “I am. You’re right.”
I was, and I really didn’t care. I had worked hard to get to this point. People thought I was arrogant—I was. There was no shame in striving to be the best at what you did. It was something Lindsey and Brian’s dad had told me more than once. James Scott was a self-made millionaire and knew all about working hard to achieve your dreams. I’d heeded his advice, and here I was, well on my way to making my first million.
“We’re done for the day,” I told him, grabbing my keys off the small table. “If you’re dad wants to fire me, please have him leave me a message. I’m not up for wasting my time or his money.”
With that, I walked out of the covered pool area and headed down the long circular drive. I jumped in my big F-350 and drove toward the gate at the end of a long driveway. Once there, I waited for the guy in the little guardhouse to open the gate.
My phone rang, and I checked the screen to see it was Brian. “What’s up, man? You still around?”
“Yeah, I decided to stay for a couple more days. Is that cool?”
“Of course. I’m happy to have you around. Is everything okay?”
“I just want a break. Want to grab lunch?” he asked.
“Sure, I’ll be back in the city in about fifteen minutes. That work?”
“I’ll meet you at the pub.”
“Okay, see you in a few,” I said, ending the call.
The pub was one of our favorite haunts. Good food and even better beer and it was low-key. Brian usually visited every weekend, but he hadn’t been around for a month. I missed the guy I considered a brother. It would be nice to catch up. Hanging out at the bar with him over the weekend was not the same as actually sitting down and having a conversation we could both hear.
I pulled into the pub parking lot and walked inside the dark restaurant. The lights were low, and the place had the stench of decades of cigarette smoke clinging to the dark walls. I found Brian sitting in a booth, drinking a draft beer.
“I already ordered for both of us. I figured you probably had more clients, so I ordered you a Coke. I get to drink beer,” he said, grinning.
I nodded. “Actually, I do have another client but not until later today. It’s Lindsey,” I said, waiting for his reaction.
“What?”
I cleared my throat. “I’m training Lindsey. I offered when she told me her other trainer up and left, and she accepted.”
He nodded. “Good. How’s it going?”
“Fine. She’s an excellent swimmer. Takes direction well,” I said, doing my best to sound like a professional and not like a guy who had been having inappropriate thoughts about the client.
“Do you think she has a chance?” he asked me, taking a long pull from his beer.
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Good. I hope you can take her all the way.”
He had no idea what those words did to my body. If he knew I was lusting after his little sister, he would probably throw that bottle at me. I would keep it to myself. Be the consummate professional.
“What about you? What has you hiding out in San Diego instead of getting your butt home to Orange County?”
He rolled his eyes. “My job. Some days my job makes me crazy. Actually it isn’t the job. It’s the interns my dad insists we keep around. He’s all about giving people a chance to get started and everyone can benefit from getting their feet wet.”
I chuckled. “No naughty interns to take your mind off things?”
“God, I wish. No, I’m stuck with a bunch of whiny brats who know everything and deserve it all but don’t want to put in the time or work to actually get it.”
I shook my head, doing my best to empathize. If we kept the conversation on him and his issues, we didn’t have to talk about Lindsey. I didn’t want him to pick up on the fact my feelings for her were not quite as brotherly as they should be. Not even close. I wanted her in the worst way, and if she gave me even a hint she was down for it, I would jump at the chance. Brian didn’t need to know.
Our food was delivered. We chatted about nothing important, the topic thankfully staying away from Lindsey.
“You could always move here,” I told him.
He laughed. “I like making real money.”
“I make real money.”
“Orange County is where the office is. I like it there. I really don’t mind working for my dad. It’s just a bad batch of interns. They’ll only be around another month, and then I can kick them to the curb.”
I had to chuckle. “Only to have another batch come in.”
“Don’t remind me.�
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We finished our meals before I stood. “I need to get going. I have to run some errands and then meet Lindsey at the school.”
“Okay,” Brian said, standing as well. “I’ll see you back at your place. I’ll order a pizza for dinner.”
“Sounds good. I won’t be home until after nine. Your sister is a machine.”
He laughed. “Yes, she is, and don’t even think she’ll quit a minute early. She will dock your pay if she thinks you aren’t giving it your all. She’s like my dad—a bit of a slave driver.”
I was excited to train Lindsey. She was a champion, and I wanted to be the one she hugged and thanked when she won that first medal.
Chapter 4
Lindsey
I loved this particular pool. It was at a local high school. My dad had pulled some strings and made a healthy donation to the school’s swim program for me to get private use rights. It wasn’t an Olympic pool, but it was good for my needs.
“I thought you were going to change your mind, and I was going to be out another trainer.”
I stood on the cement surrounding the high school’s pool, stretching my arms over my head. First one and then the other.
Tanner was walking toward me, that sexy smile on his face.
“I had to sign about a million waivers to train you here. I even got this,” he said, dangling a key in the air.
“Wow, you move fast. I’m surprised they handed it over so quickly. It took my last trainer several weeks to convince them to do that.”
He stopped in front of me. “I have a certain charm,” he said with a wink. “And I have a kick-ass reputation. Of course, they were more than willing to hand it over. Ready?” he asked.
“Yep. I want to shave off at least a second today. I went easy in practice, so I don’t feel as spent as yesterday.”
“Jump in and do a few warm up laps,” he instructed.
I did as he asked, slowly swimming the length of the pool, priming my body for the grueling training I knew was coming. I flipped and began making my way back to where he was standing. I could feel his eyes on me. It wasn’t the same as being watched by a trainer who was watching my form. Tanner was watching me. My body. It sent delicious heat racing down my spine, causing me to involuntarily shudder and lose my rhythm.