by TC Matson
Biting his bottom lip to hide his laughter, he takes a deep breath through his nose to calm himself. “If she’s got that big of a pull on you, don’t let her slip through your hands.”
Shaking my head with amusement, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Yes, Dr. Very Single Hayes.”
He shoves my chest. “I’m just saying, little dick.”
“You’ve been watching Lifetime movies again.”
He rolls his eyes and flips me the bird. “Keep this up and I’ll steal her.”
“If you want an ass whooping, all you have to do is say so.” There’s a hint of humor in my voice and he catches it. He blows me a kiss and morphs his hand into the peace sign.
“I’m out. You’re welcome. Now, go get your tiny dick wet.”
He exits the gym and I turn off all the lights in the room “Fucking shithead.”
Chapter 4
Since yesterday I’ve only had one person on my mind—my platinum knight who seems to have just appeared out of nowhere into my life. But since then, he seems to manifest everywhere. I’ve lived here for years and have never seen him until I did Mr. Hayes’ event. And then again at the gym when Lily begged me to go because Andrew invited her to take some martial arts class.
It’s not like I’m complaining or anything. He’s handsome as hell. He’s tall with broad shoulders, large muscular tattooed arms, a strong jaw, and his eyes… His eyes are so blue they’re almost crystals, piercing and stunning. His brother’s are just the same, but his are unforgettable and incredibly intense.
He took me by surprise at the anniversary party. A man of his stature squeezed into properly dressed attire is definitely breathtaking. But what caught me off guard was his hair. One side of it is dyed a bright blond, almost white, while the other side is brown, which I’m assuming is his natural color, with a red stripe running front to back on the side. It was different and definitely lured the color of his eyes out.
His voice is rich and bassy, awakening butterflies in my stomach. His tone carries a confidence laced with pretentiousness. He’s a walking orgasm and I think he knows it.
I was utterly mortified when I found out he overheard the guy at the gym blatantly disrespect me with some very derogatory comments. It repulsed me to no end, but Ryker swooped in like a hero coming to my rescue.
Afterward, as I stood looking up to him, I forced myself not to gawk. Tattoos lace his arms receding underneath his t-shirt. I wanted to find out where they ended, but I abandoned the indecent thoughts.
Last night, I stared into the darkness, wondering if “thank you” was enough. He put himself in harm’s way, ignoring the fact danger could’ve been lurking there. The guy was being extremely forceful. What would have happened if he’d gotten violent? Ryker didn’t care. He came to my rescue without a thought, and for that, I feel like I owe him more.
I take extra time on myself this morning because, what woman doesn’t want to look great when asking the sexiest man she’s ever laid eyes on out for lunch. I’m dressed to impress, intentionally picking out a tight cream colored pencil skirt that accentuates the curve of my hips and ass with a silky black tank top blouse and my reasonable three-inch black ankle strappy heels.
I check myself in the mirror, running my hand through my hair again. I ooze confidence, yet my insides are shaking like a damn leaf.
Driving to the gym feels like a blur. My pulse is hammering in my chest and I swear my thoughts are trying to keep up with the pace. I pull into the almost empty parking lot and park in front of the tinted doors of the gym. I tap the steering wheel, staring at the doors and trying to make sense of what I’m doing.
Because I feel I owe him a better thank you.
What if he isn’t here? I’d probably feel a little better.
Oh God, what if he says no?
I exhale and then inhale faith. “You’re overreacting, Whitney. You can do this,” I tell myself and grab my purse, stepping out of the car.
I’m greeted by a blonde woman with large round eyes and massive boobs, which are being shoved up under her neck by a black and red RingSide sports tank top.
“Hey!” She beams excitedly. “How may I help you?”
“I’m here to see Ryker.”
I watch as her carefree smile stiffens and she gives me a quick once over, pointing her finger over her shoulder without looking. “Go to the end of the gym and follow the hall to the blue doors. He’s in there. You don’t have to knock.” She drops her view to some papers on the counter, pretending to work on something.
From the number of cars in the parking lot, I only assumed the gym wasn’t busy, but I’m wrong. It’s quite the opposite. A pang of jealousy slaps my chest as I pass several people running on the treadmill. Oh, how I would love to jog and release my nervousness until my mind sets itself free right now.
As I step through the blue door, I’m met with a much different gym scene. The floors are covered with black rubber, the walls on the right are covered with blue padding, and the left side is lined with mirrors. Black and red punching bags hang from steel beams on the ceiling and directly across from them is a large ring, one like you’d see in one of those MMA fights.
The big ring holds the very man I came here for. My breath escapes me and suddenly I feel warm all over. He’s shirtless, showcasing a very delicious body with hard muscles and the very tattoos I’ve fantasized about on display and traveling up his arms, over his shoulders and across his chest.
I watch, fascinated, as his muscles flex with every punch. The muscles in his calves tighten as he takes quick steps. The soft eyes I’m used to seeing are focused with wicked determination.
If I thought he was attractive before…this takes the cake.
What the hell am I doing here?
Several men are leaned over the ropes watching him, but a black headed man is directing him to do something. Ryker moves, taking the guy in the ring—wrapped in a lot of black padding—and slams him down to the ground.
The thud causes me to jump and let out a small yelp.
And that’s when it happens. A heaviness settles in my chest, heat warms my core, and my breath gets stuck in my throat as his eyes meet mine.
Oh, God. What am I doing here?
I contemplate sprinting out the door, but instead, my feet are solid and heavy, bonded to the floor. He springs to his feet and tells the guys to take a break as he hops from the ring and strides toward me.
Muscles. Big, cut, sweaty, muscles jut with his movements. His tattoos seemingly come to life as they dance. He pulls off his gloves, approaching me with a charming grin and displaying the most killer set of dimples I didn’t know he possessed.
He’s sexy as hell.
This is a bad, very bad damn idea.
“Hey.” I swallow my fluster, finding my professional confidence and smile.
“Hi.” His voice is deep and breathy, pulsing straight to my stomach. “What brings you by?”
His wide shoulders are pulled back. Sweat droplets have formed across his chest. The squared muscles of his abs flex and loosen as he catches his breath. And in person, directly in front of me is the very sexy V I’ve lusted over in my fantasies.
He clears his throat and I rip my gaze from his body, landing on a pair of amused eyes.
I can feel the heat on my cheeks from being busted for gawking. “I came by to see if I can take you to lunch. My way of saying thanks again, but better.” I’m relieved my tone remains steady and doesn’t come out as a dreamy sigh like my insides are feeling.
There’s a glint in his eyes and he drags his tongue along his bottom lip, tilting his head. “You’re asking me on a date?”
His smile is contagious and it reaches out, tugging my nervous lips up. “I’m asking for lunch.” Damn, that was too flirty.
He glances above me. “Kind of early for lunch.”
“Andrew said you’re normally here early in the mornings. I wanted to stop by when I knew you’d be here. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” I glance
behind him to the ring.
Approval twists his mouth. “An appreciated interruption.”
I look away scared to death he can see the desire fluttering my body.
“I won’t be able to go until after one,” he tells me.
I nod. “Actually, that works out perfectly. There’s a sandwich shop not too far from my work if you don’t mind driving. If it’s a problem, you can pick a place closer.”
“I’ll come to you. You’re the one who’ll have to go back to work.” His tone is heavy with a victorious satisfaction.
“Great. I’ll see you at one then.” I turn, trying to rush out the door when he sings my name oh so sweetly. I swallow hard before looking back. “Yeah?”
A devilish grin creeps across his lips. “I can’t meet you if I have no clue where it is I’m going.”
I want to slap my forehead at my own bashful ignorance. I glance to his hands holding his gloves and then smile up at him. “It’s called Nuckles. But not the type you’re thinking. I’ll see you then.”
I whip out the door before anything else can be said and I completely lose the little composure I had.
Shit. What am I doing?
“You just asked the sexiest man to lunch is what you just did,” I chastise myself dropping back into my car.
I arrive at my office and hurry in, still a little frazzled and freaked out at myself.
“I’ll be leaving for lunch today. I’ll be unavailable from one to two,” I tell Lily, barely able to look her in the eyes.
I catch her toothy grin. It’s like she knows. “Should I write in a name or leave it as personal?”
“Leave it as personal,” I tell her over my shoulder as I enter my office.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” she calls out.
Excitement splits my lips. In this very moment, this very second, I’m overcome with exhilaration instead of perturbed thoughts. I step back into my doorway. “Yes.”
Her mouth opens in a silent scream of jubilation. It takes all I have not to join her with the real thing, but I rein it back in and get to work.
I dive head first into my work in a serious attempt to push all things Ryker from my thoughts. The Hills’ wedding. These two—Brant and Cindy—are extravagant and that’s putting it lightly as their wedding will be far over the top.
They’re renting out the Eastern Gem, a beautiful brick building built in the nineteen hundreds and recently remodeled with a more modern touch and open spaces. The top floors will be shifted into her dream—loose dark pink fabric will drape along the ceiling, tucking into the corners, and will flow down the walls pooling onto the floor. The place already has three large chandeliers, but under them, the bride has asked for a runway. Nope. Not your typical wedding aisle every bride dreams of walking. No. Cindy has requested it to resemble a fashion show taking place atop a marble tile runway while guests sit around it, looking up to the couple. Where the bride and groom will stand to say their vows, there will be two large columns wrapped with different shades of pink peonies.
I’ve dubbed this the Pink Stink.
“You’re going to be late!” Lily calls out from the lobby.
She’s crazy to even think I haven’t been watching the time. It’s taunted me. The little needle hands passing by numbers in a torturously slow way, edging toward the designated time I’m anticipating. I’m a freaking bundle of nerves—excited, terrified, giddy, and ecstatic.
I close the folder, grab my purse, and on shaky legs, walk out.
“Have fun,” she sings as I exit the building.
I pull up to the restaurant and my breath gets sucked right out of me. Ryker is perched against the window sill in front of the faux rainfall glass. He’s changed into a pair of dark washed jeans with a black button up shirt straining tightly against his body, and he’s looking down at his phone. As I step onto the curb, he glances up, offering me the smile he must know messes with every inch of my insides.
This man gives me butterflies in places not meant to flutter.
“You clean up well,” I quip trying to knock off my jitters. Of course I know how well he cleans up. Within a two-week span, I’ve seen him dressed up to half naked.
He arches his left brow and pulls open the door for me. “You’re pretty jaw dropping yourself.”
I roll my eyes playfully and saunter past him. He smells fresh and powerful with a hint of soap and it makes me salivate.
“Whitney!” Jennifer, the hostess exclaims when we enter. Immediately her eyes take in the man behind me and a dreamy smile appears on her parted lips.
“Is Jay in his normal section?” I ask. There’s no way in hell I’m sitting anywhere else other than in his section. I need him right now. He’ll be the perfect distraction.
Her gaze peels off the hunk behind me. “He’s, um,” she giggles nervously and I feel like slapping sense into her, “in the back section today. I know you don’t prefer—”
“I’ll take it,” I rush out, smiling and trying to get this awkwardness over with.
I feel his eyes. His presence is very clear behind me as we follow her bouncy black hair to our table. Passing by everyone, we…well, he catches everyone’s attention. Men and women steal glances as we make our way by their tables.
He sits across from me and I swear he causes the table to look twice as small.
“I hope you like the place. It’s been my favorite for years,” I tell him, trying not to shake my nervous leg.
“Whitney!” Jay rushes over and kisses my cheek. His whiskey brown eyes deviate to Ryker and his thin lips stretch further into a wide, toothy, pleased grin. “And you have brought me the very man of my dreams, I see. I’m Jay.”
“Ryker,” he answers unfazed by Jay’s animation.
Jay hums and wags his manicured eyebrows at me. “You done good, girl. The man is as fine as perfectly aged wine. Drink up on that.”
“Jay,” I reproach, trying to hide my embarrassment through gritted teeth.
Jay chuckles flirtatiously. “Okay. Okay. My bad.” He presses his hand to his chest and smiles at Ryker. “She’s having a coke. What would you like, muscle man?”
Ryker’s eyes flicker with amusement like he’s trying to hide his laughter. “I’ll take a water.”
I rub my forehead the moment Jay sways off. “I’m sorry. He can be uncensored and probably will be the whole time we’re here. But I love him and wouldn’t change a thing.”
Ryker folds his large hands on the table. “You’re always apologizing. Do I make you that nervous?”
“I…” I pause, deciding it’s probably best to fess up and get it over with. “Yes. You do. You exude a confidence that intimidates the hell out of me and destroys the level of confidence I thought I had.”
The left side of his lips twitch but they don’t pull up. “Will it make you feel better if I tell you I’m nervous too?”
I purse my lips and tilt my head. “No. You’d be lying.”
“But you’d relax,” he counters with a small laugh.
Jay sets our drinks down in front of us and rocks on his heel with a pen and pad in his hand, pointing it to me. “You want your normal.” He points toward Ryker. “What would you like, hot stuff?”
Ryker tips his chin toward me. “Whatever she’s having.”
Jay’s brows raise high with surprise and he takes a hefty look at Ryker. “Honey. I don’t think you’d like all the carbs and fat she’s about to put into her skinny little frame. You need something healthier. I’ll feed it to you while I watch that sexy mouth of yours work it.”
“Jay!” I hiss mortified and drop my hand heavily on the table.
A deep rumble vibrates Ryker’s throat. “I’ll work it off later.”
Jay wobbles his head. “I’m sure I can help—”
I swat his side with the back of my hand, bugging my eyes out in a silent plea for him to stop.
He smiles warmly at me and winks before turning his attention back to Ryker. “She says the same thing. Whatever she d
oes apparently works. I’ll put in the order.”
He leaves and heads toward the kitchen.
“I am so sorry.”
Ryker’s dimples appear. “For what?”
I take a sip of my cola, deciding to ignore Jay’s extraordinariness and sexual harassment case waiting to happen. “What did I interrupt this morning? Is that a really intense workout regimen?”
“I’m an MMA fighter.” His expression is nonchalant. His eyes steady on me with predatorial gratification.
“Really?” I’m surprised. “I didn’t know things like that hit so close to home. How’d you get into it?”
“When I was sixteen, I went to a gym with a friend. It had a specific area for martial arts only separated from the rest of the gym by a glass wall. As I worked out, I watched. Wasn’t long before I was intrigued and gave it a shot. I’ve been hooked ever since. I was approached by my former manager with a proposition to give MMAT a try. Just shy of my eighteenth birthday I signed on with him. Four years later, I was open bait and Brian, my manager now, snagged me up. I’ve been with him since.”
“Oh. So you’re like the real deal?”
Either I’m an idiot or he’s truly amused at my ignorance. “Real deal.” He nods.
“Guess that explains your size,” I blurt. My eyes widen.
“I have to stay in shape and keep my training fresh.”
“I bet all the women fawn over you,” I say, trying not to sound like a jealous fiend.
He smirks with a hint of arrogance. “I tend to tune that out.”
I roll my eyes and tighten my lips in disbelief. “What man doesn’t enjoy that?”
He leans toward me. “Wouldn’t you get tired of something being thrown at you all the time?”
I puff. “It’s different for men.”
“Not necessarily. Other than getting a hefty ego boost, I don’t exploit the situation often.”
I study him for a pregnant minute trying to see if he’s actually being serious. I mean, come on. What man honestly doesn’t jump on the opportunity for sex? I’ve never in my lifetime met a single man with nothing tying him down not doing so.