by Lori Foster
When the door chimed again, he looked up and met Vanity’s gaze. Nice that she’d immediately sought him out with her eyes.
“Here.” He handed the water bottle to Leese and, being sure to draw everyone’s attention first, strode over to her.
“Stack.” Her smile flickered with uncertainty. “What’s—”
Dipping in for a thorough kiss, he stole her gasp, nudged her lips apart, and eased his tongue in to tease. Because he was sweaty, he kept his body from touching hers. But that didn’t mean he had to make the kiss quick, or easy.
She tasted so good, he almost forgot the purpose of this display: making it clear to one and all that she was his, and only his.
When she reached for him, her small, cool hands coming to his hot, damp shoulders, he ended things.
Her eyes, unfocused, stared at him as she licked her lips.
Such an invitation. “Hey.”
Took her a second, and she nodded. “Hey.” She glanced around, and a sly smile replaced some of the dazed lust. “Was that for the spectators?”
No reason to lie about it. “The male spectators, yeah.”
“Wow.” She pushed back her hoodie, her mouth still playing with a smile. “I’m flattered.”
Flattered? “Come again?”
Her eyes went heavy, her smile sly. “Oh, I will. Tonight.” She went on tiptoe to peck his mouth. “With you.”
Damn. Way to turn the tables on him.
“So.” As she shed the hoodie, she eyed his arm. “What happened?”
“Long, boring story.” The last thing he wanted was her involved. “It’s fine.”
“You’re sure?”
She brushed her fingertips over his forearm in a butterfly caress...that he felt in his dick. “Yeah.”
“It’s awfully colorful.”
“Just bruising. No big deal.” He expected her to fuss, but he should have known better. So far Vanity had never done the expected.
“I’m glad.” She checked the big clock on the wall. “Thanks for the wonderful greeting, but now I need to get my gear stored and get to it.” She patted his chest and walked off.
Stack stood there, admiring the departing shot of her ass in the leggings—until he realized a lot of other people were watching, too. He mean-mugged some new guys, then Brand and Miles, and lastly Leese.
Leese just grinned, the dick.
An hour later, Vanity was finishing up on the elliptical when she got a call. She turned off the machine and stepped off before retrieving her cell from a wrist strap.
One-handed, she fetched a towel and patted her face while listening to whoever had called. When her brows pulled together, and she separated from the crowd, moving to a corner on the other side of the registration desk, he called it quits on his own workout and joined her.
She didn’t appear bothered that he’d invaded her space or that he was listening in.
Smiling at him, she spoke into the cell, saying, “Could I think about it, please?...Tomorrow? That soon...All right. I’ll call you back in the morning...Yes, thank you... Okay, you, too.” She disconnected and put the phone back in the wrist holder. “You all done?”
Curiosity gnawed on him. “Yeah. I’m supposed to help teach the self-defense class, though.” Mostly he’d volunteered since Vanity was taking the class.
“With that arm,” she said, appearing concerned, “you should maybe sit it out.”
“It’s fine.” He got her back on track. “Important call?”
“What? Oh, no. Not important. Just...” She bit her lip. “Another offer for modeling.”
“Yeah?” It distracted him, seeing how good she looked sweaty. She’d braided her long hair, but loose wisps clung to her damp neck and temples. Every breath filled his head with her intensified scent. “Where at this time?”
She didn’t meet his gaze. “Remember that pajama ad?”
“At the lingerie store.” He didn’t like where this was going. “Yeah?”
She cleared her throat. “Right. Same place.”
A sort of edgy possessiveness crawled over him. “More pajamas?” He hoped.
“Not this time, no.” Somewhat defiantly, she met his gaze. “This would be tasteful underthings.”
“Underthings?”
Hand in the air, she gestured. “Yeah, you know. Bras and panties.”
Stack just stared at her.
“It’s a new line of animal prints. Really pretty.”
There were no words. Vanity in slinky little panties in a magazine where everyone could see her? He shook his head but stayed silent, unsure what he should or could say.
She slipped in closer, and now that they were both sweaty, he didn’t mind. “Do you think I should—”
“No.”
“No?”
Damn it, he didn’t want to admit how much it mattered to him. “Do you want to?”
“I’m not sure. I enjoy modeling. It’s fun.” She scrunched up her nose. “But I have to admit, I’m a little squeamish about everyone seeing me in a bra and panties. I mean, it’d cover as much as a bikini, and being from California, I wore a lot of bikinis. But still...”
He nodded, agreed. “Still.”
Looking beyond him at the crowded rec center, she said, “You think the guys here—”
“Yes.” And then he added, “Definitely.”
“You didn’t let me finish.”
“Didn’t need to.” The dam burst, and somehow, he couldn’t get himself to shut up. “No, you shouldn’t model lingerie even though—maybe especially because—you’ll look amazing in it, and, yes, every dude here would know, would have a copy of the mag, and would probably keep it under his fucking pillow so he could—”
She smashed a hand over his mouth, red-faced but laughing.
Stack bit her finger, making her jump. Holding her face, he leaned down, his forehead to hers. “You’re about the hottest woman I’ve ever known.”
“Looks shouldn’t matter so much.”
“They don’t.” Not entirely, anyway. “When it comes to you, I like the whole package.”
Pleased, she smiled up at him.
“But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re gorgeous.” He pressed his mouth to hers for a firm kiss. “I don’t mean to overstep, but damn, darlin’, I don’t want every guy here ogling you.”
“Honestly, I don’t really want that either.”
Thank God. “So you’ll skip the panty pics?”
Laughing, she nodded. “Yes, I’ll skip them. I wasn’t all that enthusiastic about it anyway.”
Stack gave quick thought to leaving the rec center early. He wanted her. Right now. He was considering ways to convince her when the front door opened.
Standing in the doorway, holding it open and letting in a gust of cold air, Armie spoke to two women. They were both cute, one with short, spiky red hair, the other a blonde with purple streaks. “Go on now,” Armie told the ladies. “I have work to do.”
“You promise you’ll show up?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He started to ease the door shut on them. “I’ll be there.”
“Tomorrow, eight o’clock.”
He tapped his temple. “Locked away the details. I won’t forget.” The door was almost closed.
“She’s going to love it! Thank you!”
“My pleasure.” The door finally shut.
Through the glass, both women blew him kisses. Laughing, Armie turned, and realized Stack and Vanity had been listening in.
“Hey, Stack, Vee. What’s up?”
Surprised, Vanity said, “You changed your hair!”
Until she mentioned it, Stack hadn’t noticed. But yeah, Armie’s usually bleached hair was closer to a real color now. Sort of a light brown.
Armie ran a hand over his head. “Yeah, I was due a change.” He bounced his gaze between them. “Everything okay?” He looked at Stack’s arm. “You’re slipping, man. Why’d you let him hit you?”
Before Stack could warn Armie to shut
it, it was already out there, and Vanity slowly pivoted to face him.
Stalling, Stack said, “Those girls follow you home like stray puppies?”
“Something like that.” He grinned. “I tried to shake them off, but they were determined.”
“To invite you to an orgy?”
Armie laughed. “Nah.” Grin sheepish, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Their friend is getting married, so they’re throwing her a bridal shower. I’ll be the entertainment.”
Stack wanted to praise him for that outrageous announcement because it reclaimed Vanity’s attention.
Eyes wide, she pivoted back to Armie. “You’re serious?”
“Yeah, apparently I’m going to offer lap dances, maybe strip or something. Not sure what all the plans are.” Shaking his head, he laughed again. “But whatever. Sounded fun.”
“You’re nuts.” Stack knew Armie was up for just about anything, so he shouldn’t have been surprised. But that was over the top even for him.
Armie glanced at Vanity. “You sticking around?”
“I’m taking the self-defense class.”
“Great, then let me borrow Stack a minute, ’kay? You can catch up with him when the class starts.”
Not fooled, Vanity pointed at Stack. “You’ll explain later.” Then she headed down the hallway, taking advantage of the five minutes remaining before the class.
Soon as she was out of hearing range, Stack said, “Big mouth.”
“How was I to know it’s a secret? You’re standing there all purple and swollen, and it’s not like the girl is blind.” He frowned at Stack’s arm, grimacing for him. “Why are you dodging the truth, anyway?”
Stack shook his head, unsure how to answer. “I just didn’t want her involved.”
“Oh, really? You look plenty involved to me.”
He shrugged. “Getting there. Maybe.” Stack didn’t even know what he wanted, so he sure as hell couldn’t be sure of Vanity’s intent. A fling? Convenience? Or more? “She has a way of plowing in full-steam ahead. It’s bad enough when it’s my family, but I don’t want her mixed up in this.”
“Did you tell that to Leese?”
“No, why would I?”
Armie tipped his chin toward the room. “Because they’re friends—and he’s chatting her up right now.”
* * *
TRYING FOR THE tone of casual conversation, Vanity asked offhand, “So how did Stack hurt his arm?”
Leese barely smiled while collecting his equipment and stuffing it into his gym bag. “Did you try asking Stack?”
Okay, so Leese wasn’t fooled. “I have a feeling he won’t tell me.”
“So you want me to be a snitch?”
She lightly punched his arm. “You’re my wingman. You’re supposed to back me up.”
He finished with the bag and straightened, looking down at her with his pale blue eyes. “Not this time. Case you’re unaware, Stack is staring daggers at us both.”
She stiffened but didn’t turn to see. Lowering her voice, even though she knew he couldn’t hear, she asked, “Is he coming this way?”
“Nope. Just staring.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “I’m glad he has enough sense not to cause a scene.”
“And why would he cause a scene about me?” Leese studied her. “What did you tell him after I left this morning?”
Flapping a hand and struggling against the urge to glance guiltily at Stack, Vanity said, “We agreed that you were an honorable man. He knows there’s nothing between us.”
Dryly, Leese laughed. “Let me clue you in about men. He might know we’re not involved, but he won’t like it all the same.”
Her heart plummeted. “Does that mean you’re going to stop being my friend?”
“Never that. Anytime you need me, I’ll be around.” He tugged at her braid. “But it does mean you might want to consider making Stack your wingman, at least whenever you can.”
Probably very good advice. “Thank you.”
As Leese walked away, he lifted a hand, letting her know he accepted her gratitude.
Now Vanity turned to see Stack. He stood alone, his expression dark and contemplative. About what?
With the class ready to start, she blew Stack a kiss and got in line. And though she did her best to listen as instructions were given, part of her mind stayed focused on Stack.
She’d played an uncertain game to win him over. Did his possessiveness mean it was working—or would she drive him away by being herself?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
AS STACK DIRECTED the class of women, he tried to ensure he didn’t pay more attention to Vanity than anyone else. She helped by not really looking at him, even the few times he spoke directly to her.
Was she so focused on the defense class that she could relegate him to the back burner?
He didn’t like that idea at all. Especially when thoughts of her stayed crowded into the front of his mind.
Some of the women were younger, not really into the class. They were more about flirting. Stack easily looked past them, but Armie made up for it by flirting right back, teasing each and every one.
Only Cherry, Denver’s fiancée, and Vanity were off-limits to Armie’s interest. Cherry stayed at Vanity’s side, and occasionally the two of them would whisper or laugh about something.
Likely they were amused by the attention he and Armie got from the women who were supposed to be learning how to defend themselves from attackers.
“I need a volunteer.” Armie glanced over the class, bypassed the raised hands, and said, “C’mon, Vee. You’ll do.”
Stack swung around. What the hell was Armie doing?
Vanity lifted her hand and Cherry gave her a high five. Without an ounce of hesitation, Vanity stepped up front.
Feeling like an extra in a bad play, Stack stood there as Armie arranged her in front of him so they were both in profile to the rest of the ladies.
“If someone jumps you,” Armie said, “it’s go time. You can’t be timid and you can’t be polite. So where are the best places to aim?”
Vanity took a stance. “A woman my size against a man your size would do best aiming for the eyes, nose, or ears.” With each part she listed, she went through a practiced move.
“Right. But if you’re going for my nose, then you use the heel of your hand, and you really bring it. A tap is just going to piss me off.”
She grinned. “Can’t have that.” In slow motion she went through the strike again, this time with the heel of her hand aimed at the base of Armie’s nose.
“Better.” He held up his palm. “Pretend that’s my nose. Go for it.”
She struck, smacking Armie’s palm with precision, the sound of the impact loud and sharp.
“Nice.” He stood over her, then clasped her forearms. “Now what?”
She brought up her knee, fast and hard, stopping just shy of nutting Armie.
He lurched, ducking his hips back, and she laughed.
So did the rest of the ladies.
“Brat.” Armie put her in a headlock, knuckled the top of her head, then turned her loose. She snickered as she smoothed her hair back into place.
And Stack stood there behind them, taking it in, a little annoyed and absurdly proud of her.
He turned her to face him. “You saw how Armie moved? Your groin strike would have missed. Whenever possible, you always want to aim for the body parts where you can do the most damage. Whether the guy is big or small, trained or a dolt, the eyes are always vulnerable.”
Vanity nodded, then curled her small hands into claws. “Raking, scratching, gouging and poking.”
Stack and Armie took turns engaging her in different examples for the class. She hung in there, showing that she knew the moves but wasn’t comfortable in actually implementing them.
“We need to do some real drills,” Stack said to Armie, who agreed.
“Next time,” Armie announced to the class, “what do you think about putting on protective gea
r and actually sparring?”
Vanity’s elbow landed in Stack’s ribs, and she spoke to the class. “Oh, seriously, Armie. I’m sure no one here wants to get locked up close and personal with any of you guys.” Her eyebrows bobbed suggestively. “What do you say, ladies?”
The women cheered.
Armie covered his crotch and warned, “I’ll be wearing my cup, so don’t anyone get any ideas.”
“Too late,” someone yelled, leading to more laughter and a lot of agreement.
Stack’s pride expanded. Vanity was comfortable and confident in any situation.
A few of the women had questions, so with the class over, he stepped to the side to answer. He tried to concentrate, but damn. He couldn’t keep his gaze off Vanity.
Now that he’d slept with her, he looked at everything she did or said differently, more personally.
Arms over her head, she stretched. Her workout clothes clung to her body in all the right places. She’d long since removed the over-shirt and now wore only the camisole-type sports top that pretty much squished her boobs. It wasn’t that different from what many of the other women wore. It covered her so that nothing showed through, but Vanity looked far better than most.
Using a soft white towel, she patted her face, her upper chest, then lifted her braid to dry the back of her neck.
The rest of the class finished up and wandered off, most bundling up and heading for the door. Denver and Cannon started putting supplies away. Leese rolled out the mop bucket. They had a cleaning crew come in once a week for a really thorough job, but in between that they took turns mopping the mats with a special sanitizer.
Holding her hair off her neck with one hand, fanning her face with the other, Cherry came back over by Vanity. Yvette, who hadn’t taken the class but had worked out while at the rec center, also joined them.
When Vanity caught Stack staring toward them, she smiled. “I really think you guys should let us use the locker room. I’m perspiring. Cherry’s perspiring.”
Cherry went still, then looked down at herself and blushed. Sweat dampened the front of her tank top, especially between and beneath her big boobs.