Too hot to handle: A curvy girl romance
Page 45
I can do this.
I can totally do this.
I force myself to open the door and head inside. If I let women like her (who have actually put the work necessary to look good) put me off my path, I will never have the body I want, or the life I deserve. She looks up from her magazine and flashes me a friendly smile as I step over the threshold. See. That was not so bad. Instantly, I relax, and feel more at ease than I did a few moments before.
“Good evening,” I greet cheerfully.
“How’re you doing?”
“I’m doing well,” I reply, and it’s actually not a lie. The alcohol has made me feel quite mellow and I’m quite proud of myself too. I fumble in my pocket for my wallet, pull out my membership card and pass it to her.
“We have a new system now. You just slide your card into one of those little readers over there.” She gestures towards a set of turnstiles.
I look at them. They were not there before. Also I can see that the place has been really spruced up. “Ah. Okay.”
“Have a great sweat today,” she calls as I turn towards the turnstiles.
I scan the statement for any hint of sarcasm, find none, and make my way through to the vast gym area. I glance at the machines. There have been a lot of changes here too. More machines. It’s been so long since my induction that I’ve pretty much forgotten how to use any of them though. The place is empty, thank goodness, so I won’t have to worry about anyone else watching me fumble with the equipment.
I pick a treadmill, take off my jacket, and hang it over the end. There are mirrors all around me and I try not to look too hard at any of my reflections. I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear and flex my fingers and kick out my legs. Right. Okay. Then, I climb onto the running machine. Where do I start?
I peer down at the display, but there are so many buttons and workout programs. I just want to get a warm-up in, some light jogging before I dive into something more intense. I press a couple of buttons experimentally, and the whole thing starts tilting up underneath me. Okay, this isn’t quite what I’m looking for, but at least, I know where the incline button is now.
I strain my mind back to my thirty-minute free induction session, but all I remember from that day is the cute guy who was giving out the instructions. He was tall and built, as you’d expect any member of staff at a place like this to be, with strong, broad shoulders that tapered to a slimmer waist and arms that made you want to trace your nails down them.
Not that a guy like that would ever be with a woman like me, of course. No, he’s probably dating someone more like the beautiful, slim girl at reception. Try as I might I can’t imagine him shooting a second glance at me. And as I remember, he didn’t.
I press another button hopefully, and the machine beeps angrily at me. I frown. What the hell am I meant to do with this thing?
Thank God, there is no one here to see how clueless I am.
Chapter 6
Ace
The first thing I think when I set eyes on her is hot damn.
The second thing is oh, man, you’re so fucked.
What a piece of ass. I let my eyes stray up and down her curvy body. Seriously. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had such an intense reaction from just looking at a woman, but she’s turning me on in ways I can’t even begin to comprehend.
Maybe it’s because I spent too much time around women who think keeping fit is the most important thing in the world. Sure, they make clothes look good while walking down a runway, but quite honestly, they are as sexy as an empty park bench on a winter day. A woman should have curves, and that’s from a guy who’s seriously into fitness. Sure, I used to take advantage of the fact that I spend every working hour around spray-tanned, often surgically enhanced, toned-up bodies, but these days I just can’t dredge up much interest in them.
A woman like that?
Real curves?
Now, that’s a whole different story.
She’s wearing a pair of leggings that cling to her thick thighs and perfectly accentuate the curve of her ass. Her top half is encased in a pink and black Lycra top, but despite the stretchy materials best efforts to keep her breasts contained those babies are almost spilling out.
With one hand she brushes away strands of honey and sunshine hair that have worked their way out of her ponytail and with the other she prods at the machine as if she expects it to blow up in her face.
Yup, perfect opening. It’s my job to ensure that all my clients have the best experience possible. I make my way over to her.
She hears my footsteps and whips her head around. Hell, the last time I saw eyelashes that long they were on a camel. And her eyes are enormous pools of surprised caramel. And her lips… Her lips are plump and red. Jesus, I can already imagine what they’ll feel like wrapped around my dick. My cock feels hot and hard inside my tracks. Down boy. I’m too old to be getting a hard-on just by looking at random chicks.
I arrive by her side and her cheeks are on fire. Fuck, that’s so fucking cute. We stare at each other. There is a noise from the reception area and it pulls me out of my hypnotized state. Fuck, I’m at work, and I need to chill before I do something I can’t take back. But there is something about this woman that just makes me want to throw her on the rubber floor and fuck her hard. I can see her, hair wild, both her mouth and pussy swollen, red and open begging me to fuck her again and again until she drips with my cum.
I don’t know what she sees in my eyes, but suddenly she crosses her arms over her chest and steps off the machine so quickly, her breasts bounce. My eyes follow them. They are full. Very full. I think of her: naked and impaled on my cock, while I pull those heavy breasts to my mouth and suck both nipples at the same time. It’s clear she’s embarrassed to be caught without any idea of what she’s doing, but fuck me, I feel light-headed with raw lust for her.
Instead of my usual professional smile, I’m fucking sure I must be wearing a shit eating grin. “Can I help you?”
She drags her gaze from mine, and I see all kinds of thoughts fly across her flustered face. Her lips part, and she tears her teeth through that soft bottom lip.
“Er…yes.” She points to the machine. “I just…Well…” She shakes her head. “I have no idea how this thing works,” she confesses.
Somebody fucked up, but I’m not going to complain. This woman is a goddess. I am close enough to feel the heat coming from her body. I clear my throat. “Didn’t you get an induction session when you joined?”
She looks up at me through those thick lashes. “Yeah,” she admits sheepishly. “But it was a long time ago and I haven’t come in since…”
“No problem. We get a lot of that here.” The turmoil inside my body doesn’t show in my voice. It sounds light and teasing.
She grins suddenly, and her whole face lights up. I stare at her in amazement. Where has this woman been all my life? “If you want to step onto the machine I can show you how to work it,” I suggest.
“I don’t want to take up your time…” she mumbles, looking unsure and hopeful at the same time.
I gesture around the room and raise my eyebrows. “Does it look like I’m busy?”
She looks down and a strand of silky hair falls over her face. I have to fight the urge not to reach out and brush it away. “Trust me, it’s my job to make sure that everyone has a great work out.”
“Fair point,” she concedes, and climbs onto the machine once more.
My eyes stray to her breasts. I want to lick them.
“So, how do I work this thing properly?” she asks.
I stop staring at her like a love-struck puppy. “Let me just…” I reach out and press the green start button. The treadmill begins to move beneath her. My arm brushes against hers as I go to increase the speed, and the brief contact sends a shiver of desire through my system. She seems to notice it too. Because she jumps away.
“Oh, right.” She nods, her eyes carefully averted from mine. She doesn’t seem to want me to leave q
uite yet, though.
“So this button controls the speed, and this one here, the incline.” I explain all the other functions so she will be able to input her own details into her workout program. “And this red lever here is to make an emergency stop,” I finish.
“Right got it.” She licks her lips and I feel heat flare up in my groin. “So, you…uh, work here?” she asks.
“No, it’s mine,” I say simply. I put down all I owned into this building on my twenty-seventh birthday. That was just under a year ago now. Since then, I’ve worked my butt off and made all kinds of changes. The place is flourishing, I’m happy to report.
“Oh, really?” She turns to me, impressed and genuinely interested. She presses the button that brings the machine to a halt, and leans against the side of it. Like she’s ready for a conversation instead of a workout. I grin at her forthrightness. I like this girl. I like her a lot.
“Yeah, for a year now,” I shrug, playing it cool. “You must have joined before I took over.” I cock an eyebrow. “I would have loved to have overseen your induction and drawn up a program to make you sweat.”
Her pupils flare up at the innuendo. “Yeah, I would have liked that too,” she whispers breathlessly.
Whoa, I feel her desire like an electric bolt in my gut. “You want me to go through the induction again? Just while I have you to myself…”
“Sure, why not?” There’s a flirtatious edge to her voice that tells me she’s enjoying my attention. I can’t imagine she’s lacking attention. Looking like that, she must get mobbed with dudes looking for her number.
“Okay, so, let’s start over by the weights,” I suggest, pointing in the direction of the free weights section.
She screws up her nose. “I don’t know if I want to use weights. I don’t want to get all big and bulky.”
“You won’t,” I assure her. “Women tend to lean out when they lift weights. Unless you’re taking a lot of steroids it’s pretty hard for someone like you to look like a bodybuilder.”
“Oh, okay.” She smiles, relaxing. I love her smile. “So, what should I do with them?” She eyes the rack almost fearfully and I struggle not to laugh. It’s really adorable. She’s looking at everything in here as if it might turn around and bite a chunk out of her. When the only thing she had to be worried about getting bitten by is me. Because I am dying to bite her. Her lip, her neck, her clit… I want to mark her. I want to look at the marks on her body and know I did that!
I push the crazy assed thought from my head.
What the ever-living hell is wrong with me? Mark a woman? I just about manage a couple of one night stands every few months once. I don’t have time for a real relationship right now. Luckily, she’s still looking down at the weights and hasn’t see the hungry expression on my face. She leans down to pick up a pair of three-pound dumbbells, testing the weight of them in her hands, before turning to me.
“Like what would I do with these?” she asks.
I reach out to take the weights from her. Our fingers touch for the briefest moment and I’m paralyzed by how good her skin feels next to mine. God, I want her so much, it hurts. I struggle to reorient myself. This is ridiculous. I’m supposed to give a client a good gym experience, and here I am practically panting after her. “These are best for upper-body work. They’re pretty light, but you have to start with what you feel comfortable with. You might want to pick up the weight for lower body stuff though…”
I pick out a pair of eight-pound weights and hand them to her, and she tests them, but doesn’t seem to find them too heavy.
“Lower body?” she echoes.
My eyes drift helplessly down to her legs, the way the leggings hug her curvy calves and those thighs. I imagine opening them. Wide.
“What kind of stuff would that entail?”
“Squats, deadlifts, lunges,” I reply, trying to keep my head straight. “You want me to show you a few of them?”
“Go ahead.” She cocks her head at me, and I take the weights and put them back on the stand. I wonder if she has any idea what kind of effect she’s having on me. The way she’s looking at me is practically scorching me, and when I turn back to her she’s stepped a little closer to me than she was before. I can smell her perfume, sweet and vanilla-scented, and I have to fucking fight the urge to bury my face into her neck and take her right then and there.
“So, squats.” I move behind her. “You want to show me what you think a squat should look like?”
“Sure.” She shrugs, and drops down between her feet and up again. Even though her form isn’t great, her ass looks fantastic as she slowly rises back up. I have to force myself from running my hand across it’s generous curve.
“Okay.” I let out the long breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “So we want to be careful when you’re going into squats. Keep your back straight and your hips low…”
“Show me?” she says. Fuck, how can anyone make those two words sound so fucking dirty.
I move to step around her to show her my form, but she shakes her head.
“No, on me. I’ll need to have a practical comparison if I’m ever going to get this right.”
She backs up a little towards me, and I place my hands gingerly on her hips. Damn, she feels good. Warm and soft and tempting. Does she know what she’s doing to me? At this point, she must have some kind of idea. I guide her hips down and she lets me, and I have the sudden image of doing this very same motion except that she’s on top of me, riding me, and letting me set the pace. I feel my cock beginning to harden beneath my sweats once more. I’m not sure how much longer I can take this.
I decide to push my luck, and run my hand up her back too. Her bare skin is beneath my fingers for a moment, the curve and arch of her spine hypnotic.
“Okay, so hips low, back straight,” I say, and realize my voice has taken on a choked-up edge that is only present when I’m crazy-turned on. She backs up another inch towards me, to test out the position, and gets a little lower. My hands are still on her hips but my eyes are trained directly onto that gorgeous ass. Fuck, I’d love to see it bouncing up and down while she slams her pussy on my cock with her back to me.
And then, as she comes back up, her butt brushes right up against my erection. She must have felt it; I jerk away from her in surprise, hoping to God that she’s not going to sue me for harassment, but instead she turns around and I see a flash of desire in her eyes. She bites her pillowy bottom lip, and lets her eyes drift daringly down to my cock and then back up to my face again. Fuck, that was deliberate. She wants what I want.
“Will you spend the night with me?” I hear myself asking.
“Where do you live?” she asks.
“Walking distance,” I reply, jerking my head upwards. My voice is hoarse and my gaze is glued onto her eyes, as though the spell might be broken and she might change her mind if I look away even for a second. But the look on her face tells me she’s certain about this. As certain as I am. My cock is so hard it practically aches as it strains against the confines of my underwear. I want to grab her right now, bend her over one of the machines, and fuck her deep and hard, but I know I can’t risk that. Besides, I want to take my time with her. I want to show her just how obsessed I am with every inch of her body, every single delicious curve.
“You want to come back to my place?” I suggest, knowing that one of us has to say it eventually.
She bites her lip and nods, letting her eyes run down my body and lingering at my groin.
I can’t believe this is happening. A sexy-as-fuck woman strolls into my gym, gets me hard, and then tells me she wants to come back to my place and take care of that for me. It’s the stuff of fantasies, but this is far from a dream.
“Let’s go,” I mutter.
A smile creeps up her lips once more, and I go to unlock the back door so the two of us don’t have to worry about sneaking past the receptionist. The last thing I need is any of my staff knowing about this. As we hurry to the door,
she slips her hand into mine. It’s a small, soft hand and I feel myself melt a little. Okay, this is going to be a good night.
A very good night indeed.
This book will be available next week!
So don’t forget to look out for it.
Coming soon…
The Rival
Unedited Sample Chapters
Chapter 1
Sienna
There are people who drag their butts into the office on Monday morning, then spend the next five days looking forward to Friday evening.
I’m not one of them.
I don’t just work Monday through Friday. Often, I’ll work right through the weekend. And I freaking love it. I honestly do. I’m a career girl and I love my job. To me, work is such a huge part of my life that it is quite literally my whole life.
“Good morning,” I greet, a bright smile plastered on my face as I breeze through the open-floorplan layout of Dunhurst Real Estate. It reminds me of a beehive, so many cubicles attached to one another, so much buzzing among the worker bees.
One day, I’ll have the corner office. I glance longingly at it every morning on my way to the cubicle-with-a-door which currently passes for my office. I suppose I should be grateful. At least it has a door, and high walls to give me privacy. Most people don’t even have that much.
I reach my door without getting pulled into random conversations about the weather, or questions about what I did during the weekend. That’s always a pointless question, anyway. Everybody knows what I do with my time. I work. Maybe they’re hoping I’ll mix things up and talk about a great party, or recommend a movie I went to.
But how is a person supposed to hit their sales goals when they spend their weekends partying, going to brunch and the movies, or generally being slack? Whenever I overhear complaints from one of my coworkers about middling sales, I have to bite my tongue to keep from bringing this up.