The Trainer

by Shey Stahl

  He stood from his place on the couch and reached for my hand. I went, standing next to him with my chest pressed against his. “Wanna take a shower with me?” His face was close to mine, breath on my neck, grunting with each push. His strong hands on my body were so rough with need that it took me a moment to respond, to comprehend someone wanting me as much as Destry did in those moments.

  “Yes.” I smiled. I knew where this was going.

  Fuck yeah, I wanted to take a shower with him again. Especially if it was anything like our last one.

  We made it inside his bathroom but then stood there, waiting for the water to warm up.

  There’s these moments with Destry when he looked at me and I felt something more. I felt like there was something behind those eyes that tried so hard to practice and maintain an indifference. At times, it wavered. He would blink and it was gone, like a flash. Was it even there?

  Reaching out, his hands cupped my face. My body reacted and leaned into his chest. My hands went to his hips reaching for the hem of his shirt. Keeping my eyes locked with his, I pulled his shirt over his head, my hands moving at a dawdling pace. I let it fall to our feet. He wasn’t as gentle fisting my tank top at my sides. It was gone just as quickly.

  While he moved his hands back to my face, bringing my kiss to his, mine went to his shorts slipping my hand inside. Already hard, he thrust his hips into my palm. The steam rolled around us but neither made an attempt to get in the shower. Sliding my hands over his length, he got frustrated, grabbing my wrist and jerking it away.

  “Get in the shower.” He growled giving me a push, a light one.

  The rest of our clothes were removed quickly and I was lifted into the shower.

  I knew where this would lead but when he was under the spray, I reached for the soap, squirted a generous amount in the palm of my hand and then wrapped my hands around his waist and to his dick that was still hard.

  I stroked him once, twice, soapy hands gliding over his hard length but I hadn’t done any more. He wasn’t happy.

  “Tallan.” He shook his head, menacing eyes narrowed and raked down my body. “I warned you... I don’t like being teased.”

  A sudden bolt of pleasure shot through me tingling the pit of my stomach. If it meant he showed me a side he never showed anyone, I would tease him over and over again.

  He didn’t hesitate, his iron grip moving me. That’s when he moved to stand behind me, nudging my legs apart with his legs. Distracting me with wet seductive kisses over my shoulders, he bent forward, grasping both my wrists, and placing them on the wall of the shower.

  I turned to look over my shoulder at him when he entered me, moving slowly at first, his jaw clenched.

  My cheek was pressed into the tile, my breasts slapping against it. Water sprayed my face as Destry frantically pounded into me. I felt like I was making so much noise that everyone in his apartment complex could have heard me. Destry wasn’t any quieter. His hands glided across my ass, then his thumb pressed at my rear entrance. “Let me?”

  Oh. Uh.

  “Do you have any… lube?”

  Destry didn’t meet my eyes but he pulled out and moved the shower curtain aside to lean over the sink beside the shower. I watched his muscles as he fought to keep himself steady while digging through the drawers under the sink.

  He found what he was looking for and then smiled. “This should work.”

  It was Vaseline. Hmmm.

  I gave a nod, trying to erase the memory of the last time I did this. Surely Destry would know what he was doing back there.

  Dipping two fingers into the container, he placed a quarter sized amount of Vaseline on him. I’d straightened out by then, standing beside him, my hands on my hips when he smacked my ass. “Turn around.”

  I did as he said placing my hands back on the tile wall. That seemed to please him, his body hunched over mine as he slid his hardness up and down against the crack of my ass, once, twice, I moaned. “That’s it, baby,” he growled, “do as I say.”

  He’s so dirty and I love it. Fucking love it.

  He pulled back after kissing the side of my neck. Teasing me, he slid his dick back and forth. I shuttered out a breath when he got the tip in. “Oh God…”

  “Fuck baby… so fucking tight.” His arms tightened around my hips, another tangled in my hair forcing my head back slightly.

  I couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t as rough when he entered me, slowly sliding inside a hole I used to be adamant was an exit only.

  I found my breath again, only I slipped when my footing shifted and my hips pushed back until the cheeks of my ass met his hips. His body slumped forward at the shift, all the way sheathed inside of me and pushing deeper. I felt myself stretching around his hard length. It burned.

  It was painful, but my body was screaming with sensations I’d never felt before. Forcing myself to relax, that’s when it started to feel good. That burning started to fade and though it was great, it wasn’t horrible.

  Destry slid his left hand over my thigh and between my legs, trying to ease my discomfort. “Just relax.” I think he could tell I was in pain as my body trembled. “If you relax, it will feel good. I promise you.”

  “Is this the pleasurable pain you spoke of?” I turned my head over my shoulder to look back at him.

  He considered that for a moment, the gaze he let loose on me was intense, much like any other gaze I got from him. “Part of it.”

  Part of it? Was there more?

  I felt his grip on my hip tighten, his body trembled slightly but his hand moved between my legs, easily sliding along my clit, twisting, circling. The man knew how to work his hands. It was the force of his hips, the way he stretched me, made me feel things I’ve never ever felt before. “Fuck me, Destry. Fuck me hard!”

  Who am I? What the hell has happened to me?

  He slammed into me, restraint obliterated, harder than before, my head hitting the tile wall. He lifted his right leg up and propped it against the edge of the tub for leverage and goddamn did he fuck me. I forgot all about that pain. All I felt was the raw need this man was ripping out of me.

  “Come for me.” He whispered, slamming into me again.

  His grunts, my moans and the sounds of wet skin slapping against each other filled the room. Steam floated around us as my orgasm shook through me. The desperation in his grip on my hip increased as he pounded in to me, chasing his own orgasm. “I’m… gonna come. Do you want me to pull out?” his voice was strained, barely audible.

  I shook my head. “No,” I moaned, “come inside me.”

  The next second, his body jerked forward and bent over me as his orgasm rocked through him.

  Continuing to move slowly, I could feel him panting against my back, his hot breath creating a rush of pleasure through my body again making me shake.

  My body tingled all over. From my toes to the backs of my legs, a soreness set in as he pulled out. I felt fucked, in a lot of ways.

  I was off balance when he slid out, seeing stars and a little faint. I grabbed onto his shoulders for balance. He sighed, his face buried in my neck. “I got you.”

  Entangling myself from him, I stood against the wall as he reached for the soap. Turning to face me, he ran the tips of his fingers over my collarbone and then smiled, one side higher than the other.

  Yep. Stella was a fucking idiot for ever leaving this guy.

  “That was…” I didn’t have words.

  “Amazing?” He finished, a certain amount of pride in his voice.

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk tomorrow.” I mumbled staring down at the water beading on my skin, red marks on my hips from where his grip was.

  Destry laughed as he reached for the shampoo and started washing his hair. “That could be arranged,” he winked, “if you’re looking for that sort of thing.”

  It was then, looking at him with that playful look, I didn’t want to lie to him. He needed to know but I couldn’t say the words.

 
“Did it hurt?” His eyes were kept low, and then lifted to meet mine.

  “Yes. It did but it wasn’t horrible.”

  “Have you done that before?” He looked me up and down, his voice a soft murmur. I was starting to hate it when he did that. Made me feel like he was searching for answers to questions he wasn’t asking.

  “Yes, but it never felt like that.”

  He gave a nod, but nothing more.

  I couldn’t stay, not that I was assuming he would ever want me to, but I had to get out of there after that shower sex. This was our third time together and it wasn’t getting any easier. I really enjoyed sex with him. It was amazing, like nothing I’d ever experienced before.

  But was it just sex? When did it end?

  I hired him for six weeks. And now I was fucking him. Doing it once, I could understand that I was sexually frustrated. Twice? That’s pushing it. Three times? That’s a little much.

  I hesitated leaving as I stood by his door, my bag in hand. I think he knew I was having some internal bantering so he helped me out.

  His lips brushed mine, just softly. “See you tomorrow.” And then he leaned into the door frame, sexy as hell.

  I spun around and left. I had to.

  When I got back to my apartment, Jared was up, door unlocked, lying on the couch with a beer in one hand and a remote in the other. It was nearing one that morning, why he was still up was beyond me.

  I was on the verge of tears when I opened the door. Despite dieting, I reached in the freezer, grabbed the container of chocolate ice cream and two spoons.

  When I stepped toward the couch, Jared sat up and gave me room. I sat next to him, put my head on his shoulder and handed him a spoon.

  He took it. “Rough night?”

  I shifted, my ass was sore. Ordinarily I might have told Jared that Destry and I had sex again. Only he knew.

  “You’re in over your head with him, aren’t you?”

  “Probably.” I stuck my spoon in the ice cream. “What am I going to do, Jared?”

  “Stop having sex with him.” He took the container of ice cream from me and set his beer on the coffee table in front of us.

  “I’m not sure that it’s something I can walk away from that easily.”

  We both took turns taking bite after bite of the ice cream when he asked, “Did you tell him about the article?”

  “No. I just think he… well, if I can get him to read it after I finish it, he’ll think differently.”

  “You hope he does. What if he doesn’t?”

  “I don’t know.” Honestly, deep down, I’d already convinced myself that I could handle this.

  “And you’re still going to the concert?”

  “What’s with all the questions? I just want to sit here and eat ice cream with my best friend. Stop hounding me like a chick.”

  Jared rolled his eyes and ripped the ice cream container from my hands. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. That’s all.”

  I understood what Jared was trying to do. I did. But I had no idea how to deal with any of this. Here I hired the guy to train me, so hell-bent on losing weight and now none of that seemed to matter after one night with him. Okay three.

  He went from being a dick, to giving dick. My biggest dilemma seemed to be that Destry had opened up to me. He was trusting me. That’s when I was starting to have doubts about being able to handle it.

  An inside fighter or infighter gets in close, tries to close the gap between himself and his opponent then he overwhelms his opponent with a flurry of hooks and uppercuts. Inside fighters have to be quick and masters of counterpunching.

  Usually when I woke up, I was sore these days. That still hadn’t changed but a few weeks with Destry and it was a new kind of sore. It’d been replaced with a good sore. One I’d gladly take.

  His dad was back at Stratford. It was clear Destry had spared no expense to make sure his dad was comfortable. Part of me, all right, all of me was nervous going there. I had no idea what to expect when I entered the building but there was a tall slender woman seated at the front desk, her glasses pushed down lower on her narrow nose. She reminded me of Julia Roberts with her wide smile and long red hair that was pulled over her right shoulder.

  “Can I help you?” She didn’t look up until I was at the counter, then her bright smile was delivered toward me.

  “I’m here to see James Stone.”

  “And you are?”

  Shit. I never thought about it before but I bet I wouldn’t be able to see him. “Tallan Spencer.”

  Her smile never faded. “Are you a friend of the family?”

  “Yes. I’m friends with his son, Destry.”

  “Oh,” she sighed, her eyes taking on a sudden warmth. “We just love Destry. He’s so sweet.”

  She must have him confused with someone else. Unless he’s slept with her too.

  Jesus, Tallan, don’t think like that!

  “Well,” the woman stood after having me sign in, “James is having a good day. He’ll be excited to have a visitor.

  She then led me down a hallway towards the elevators where we went to the fourth floor. His room was the third door on the left with a slate gray name plate that read “Stone” in black letters.

  The woman turned to me sweeping her long hair over her right shoulder again. “I’m Maggie by the way. Let me know if you need anything.” Then she knocked on the door lightly before opening it. “Mr. Stone, Tallan’s here to see you.”

  Oh great, she announced me like we were long lost buddies.

  What the hell was I going to say to him?

  “Hey, I’m Tallan. I’ve been having sex with your son. Nice to meet you. Now tell me, why is he so complicated?”

  None of that was going to be said. For good reason.

  When the door opened, I was surprised to see James sitting by the window in a wheel chair. I did some research the other night on acromegaly when Destry told me James had that. My research didn’t provide all that much in the way of appearances, other than extreme cases.

  James didn’t look anything like that. Though he appeared tall, around six foot five, maybe taller, he did have the extended jaw and widened forehead they spoke of. But definitely wasn’t the extreme cases that were detailed online.

  Maggie left and James looked over his shoulder at me scratching the side of his head. For being fifty-eight, he appeared a lot older. Destry definitely took after his father in his looks in many ways. Though his hair was now gray and thinning, he had those remarkable green eyes and the same indifferent stare. So maybe it didn’t always have to do with Destry. Or, maybe James was trying to protect himself too. He was dressed casually in a gray long sleeve shirt and black slacks that met a pair of black dress shoes, his feet propped up on the wheelchair. He looked healthy from what I could see, not someone who had just spent a week in the hospital.

  “Can I help you, honey?” He asked, watching me enter his apartment. The door closed behind me. That’s when I realized I really shouldn’t have come here.

  My hands shook as I took a seat across from him on a black leather couch. “I’m Tallan Spencer, sir. I’m a friend of Destry’s.” I reached out to shake his hand.

  He hesitated, maybe trying to recall me, and then held out his hand that looked to be twice the size of mine, no doubt a product of the disease.

  “Nice to meet you.” He said, smiling at me. Yep, definitely Destry’s father.

  “Same here.”

  And then came, “Do I know you?”

  Shit.

  “Well, no…” I tried to appear casual but he had to have wondered who I was and why I was in here. “I just came to see if you needed a friend. Sometimes it’s nice to have visitors.”

  “Oh.” He nodded and looked out the window he was sitting in front of. “That’s nice of you.”

  “Do you have visitors often?” I was trying to make small talk. Anything to keep him from wondering who I really was and calling security on me.

  “I hav
e a boy who visits me often.”

  “Your son?”

  “No.” he shook his head. “I have a son. He was the greatest part of my life.”

  “But you don’t seem him anymore?”

  “No.” Again, he shook his head, his hands fidgeting in his lap. There was a distant look in his eyes that seemed to be marred with confusion. He was trying to remember and couldn’t.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Destry. He’s the world heavyweight champion.” His eyes drifted to me. “My boy, he’s a rare fighter in today’s world. Not only does he not trash talk, he’s a southpaw.”

  “And that’s rare?”

  “Yes. Very rare. Some say fighters are at a disadvantage being a southpaw and need to learn to fight right handed. Not Destry. Never.” His voice was raised and it was clear just talking about his son gave him great pleasure.

  “That’s amazing.”

  James smiled, content just sitting here talking about his son. “He worked so hard for that title. His first fight was November 11, 2004. He’d just turned eighteen. Two years later on his twentieth birthday, August 11, 2006, he won the WBO title against Stefan Aksakov in Japan.”

  James picked up a photograph, one of many around his apartment, and handed it to me. “That’s my boy when he was seven.”

  He was absolutely adorable. You could see right then he hadn’t always been an asshole. Life had made him that way. “That’s his mother next to him. She left six months after that. I was a drunk and an asshole. She had every right to leave us. And Destry suffered because of that. She walked out on him too.”

  Now more than ever I understood his apprehensions. Not only did his mother leave, Stella did too.

  Don’t you dare hurt him, Tallan.

  I must have talked to James for close to two hours before Maggie came back. “James, would you like to come down for lunch?”

  “Oh,” James took the photograph back when I handed it to him. “I guess I should eat.”

  Maggie came in, smiled at me and then retrieved medicine from the fridge before approaching James. She began to wheel him away when he grabbed my hand. “It was nice talking with you, honey. Please come back sometime.”