Love's Illusion

by Priya Grey

  He nods quickly. “I think that’s a good idea.”

  Matt unbuttons his shirt. With her free arm, Selena runs her hand down his chest. She appreciates his lean build. Then she tries to unbuckle his jeans – but is having difficulty because she can only use one hand.

  Sensing her frustration, Matt suggests, “Why don’t I just undress both of us?”

  “Good idea,” Selena acknowledges with a nod.

  Matt unbuttons his jeans and pulls them off. Then he undoes Selena’s jeans and glides them past her hips, to the floor. He curls his fingers over Selena’s blue panties and slides them down her slender legs, exposing her. At the sight of her naked body, Matt stiffens. Grabbing onto her bare legs, he drops to his knees and spreads her wide. He moves his mouth toward her sex and begins making love to her sweet spot.

  As she feels waves of pleasure roll through her, Selena asks, “Are all Republicans this good with their tongues?”

  Matt moves his mouth from her pussy. He leaves a trail of kisses from her stomach to her breasts. Then he presses his lips against hers.

  “Just wait until you see what I can do with my cock,” Matt says, as he stares deeply into her eyes.

  He quickly reaches for a condom in his dresser and returns to bed. Selena wraps her free arm around his neck, urging him forward. As she feels Matt’s cock gently slide inside her, she closes her eyes and tilts her head back.

  Matt fills her with his manhood. Selena moans and says, “Fuck… that feels good. I just wish I didn’t have this stupid cast.”

  “Don’t worry,” Matt assures her. “We can work around it. Trust me. I’m quite imaginative in the bedroom.”

  They both chuckle. But as their bodies continue grinding, the heat between them proves overpowering.

  They become lost in passion, as Matt continues his hard thrusts. Then Selena declares, “I want to get on top!”

  Matt helps her maneuver on top of him. With her free hand, Selena directs Matt’s hard cock toward her entrance. As he fills her once more, her face breaks into an appreciative grin.

  “Fuck, you feel amazing,” Selena groans. “I wish we had some music. I love fucking to music.”

  “Ask and you shall receive,” says Matt. He reaches for his phone, resting on the nightstand. Selena continues grinding her hips against his, finding her rhythm. Matt selects a song and music fills the room. Selena suddenly stops rocking back and forth. She stares at Matt in astonishment.

  “How did you know this was my favorite song?”

  Matt looks at her and shrugs. “I didn’t. It just happens to be mine.”

  Selena leans forward and presses her lips to Matt’s mouth. With his cock still buried deep inside her, she moans and savors his sweet taste. She pulls away and gazes into Matt’s warm brown eyes.

  After giving him another kiss, she whispers to him, “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we met for a reason.”

  Chapter 28

  I’ve been training with Nash for two weeks, and I feel like I’m trapped in hell. My body aches in a million different places, and I’m hungry all the time. Instead of eating my usual bagel with cream cheese breakfast, Nash insists I have a protein shake and a handful of nuts. Don’t even get me started on lunch: chicken and salad, or fish and salad. That’s it. No pizza. No burritos. Like I said, this is hell. But I’ve already lost five pounds, and it’s only been two weeks. He might be a drill sergeant, but Nash is getting me results.

  Needless to say, when I’m at work, and sitting all day in front of my game console, I struggle to keep alert since my body is so tired. Nash says by the third week of working out, I won’t feel exhausted and should have an abundance of energy. We’ll see about that.

  “Guys, I know this is last minute, but before you head out for the day, I need you all to look over the new demo we’re sending to the marketing department.” I turn and see Josh standing in the doorway. “I want to make sure it’s glitch free.”

  I hear audible groans from several game testers.

  “Stop whining,” says Josh to everyone in the room. “It shouldn’t take you that long. Now get to it.”

  Then Josh walks toward me and whispers into my ear, “Have you had a chance to consider my offer?”

  “I’m still thinking about it.”

  He gives me a quizzical look. “Well, don’t take too long, Flo. Opportunities – like the one I’m offering – don’t come around every day.”

  Once Josh has left the room, Ajax asks, “What was that all about?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing.”

  Ajax and Parker share a look.

  I notice the time on my phone. Nash wants to meet at a gym for today’s workout. That means I have to take a different bus route. And with the new workload Josh just dumped on us, I probably won’t make it on time. I send Nash a message.

  Me: 10 minutes late. Stuck at work.

  Nash: Fine. But no later.

  After I finish playing the demo for Josh, and noting the bugs I find, I race out of the office. I catch the 24 bus, right before it’s about to drive off.

  “Thanks,” I tell the driver as the doors close behind me.

  I search for a seat. As I approach the back of the bus, I’m shocked. It’s the same homeless woman I always see. Why is she on this bus? It’s like she’s following me around, but how?

  “He can’t be trusted,” spats the homeless woman, as I take a seat across from her.

  “Excuse me?” I say.

  “Nobody’s real anymore,” she shouts in disgust. The homeless woman turns away from me and stares out the window.

  Thankfully, she doesn’t have anything else to say and remains silent for the remainder of our journey.

  As the bus makes stop after stop, I look at my phone and realize I’m going to be more than ten minutes late. I text Nash.

  Me: 20 mins late. Sorry.

  Nash: You’ve got to be kidding me.

  Great. Now Nash is annoyed. As a result, he’ll probably force me to do more pushups or something. When the bus finally drops me off at my stop, I race to the gym.

  Nash works at a gym called Kade’s Cage. It’s owned by MMA fighter, Kade Turner. My cousins are huge mixed martial arts fans. I’ve actually seen some of Kade’s fights on YouTube. He’s really good. When I finally step inside the gym, I see Nash talking to Kade, the owner.

  As I approach them, I’m slightly out of breath. “Sorry… I’m late.”

  Nash shoots me a stern look. “I thought you were serious about your personal fitness?”

  “I am. It’s just…” I’m still struggling for breath and can’t finish the sentence.

  “Let her catch her breath before you start lecturing her, Nash,” Kade chimes in with a playful smirk.

  “You’re probably right,” Nash concedes.

  “Let’s continue this conversation later,” Kade says.

  “Sure thing. Thanks.”

  Kade turns to me with a smile in his eyes. He’s a tall man with an incredible build. He points to Nash as he talks to me. “Nash is one of my best trainers, you’re in good hands, Miss?”

  “Hill. Thanks. Aren’t you Kade Turner?”

  Kade nods.

  “I saw you fight once. Not in person, on YouTube. You were awesome.”

  He smiles again. “Thanks. Well, I’ll let you guys get to work. I’ll see you around, Miss Hill.”

  After Kade leaves, Nash turns to me.

  “You’re half an hour late. You’re lucky you’re my last client for the day. Otherwise, I would have just cancelled our session but still charged you for it.”

  “I’m really sorry,” I apologize. “The bus was making every stop imaginable. It took forever.”

  “You still haven’t gotten a car?”

  “I can’t afford one,” I admit.

  “Then why didn’t you take an Uber?”

  I shrug, feeling defeated. “Because I can’t really afford that either.” I stare at Nash and confess, a little frustrated, “If you haven’t noticed
, Nash, I’m sleeping in a closet. It’s not because I like really tight, cramped spaces, but because that’s the only thing I can afford.”

  Nash looks at me. His serious expression softens a bit.

  “Be honest with me,” he says in a hushed tone. “Can you even afford these training sessions?”

  I shrug again and reveal, “No. But that’s why they invented credit cards, right?”

  Nash thinks for a moment but doesn’t say anything. He turns to me and claps his hands, “Alright, enough talk. Let’s get to work. The women’s locker room is over there. Get changed and meet me by those treadmills.”

  “Aye, Aye, Captain,” I reply with a soldier’s salute.

  I run to the women’s locker room.

  After changing, I head toward Nash who is standing by the treadmills. I step onto a vacant machine. Nash presses a button on the console, and the treadmill begins moving at a leisurely pace. As I walk, I look at Nash and reiterate, “I’m really sorry I was late. I know your time is valuable. I don’t want you to think – ”

  Nash holds up his hand, indicting I should shut up. Then he looks at his watch.

  “I thought we had a rule. No talking. Now start running.”

  Nash presses the UP arrow on the console of the treadmill. He’s increased the speed to 4.5. I’m forced to run, so I don’t fly off the machine.

  “I guess you don’t believe in warming up first, huh?” I say, as I struggle to keep up the pace.

  Nash shoots me another stern look.

  “Right. No talking,” I mutter. “I keep forgetting.”

  A devilish smile crosses Nash’s lips. “It’s okay. Pretty soon you’ll be too out of breath to talk anyway.”

  He increases the speed on the treadmill.

  “Fuck. You’re right,” I gasp as my legs begin to feel the burn.

  After a hard sprint, Nash lowers the pace, and eventually brings the treadmill to a stop. I struggle for breath, as sweat pours down my face.

  “Now, let’s do some weights,” Nash declares as he walks away, motioning me to follow him.

  “I can’t wait,” I mutter to myself. I follow him to the weight lifting area.

  After a series of intervals, we finally finish our workout for the day. Nash directs me toward a massage table. I lie down on the table, and he begins massaging my muscles with a roller.

  “I didn’t realize this was part of our workout sessions,” I mumble, enjoying the sensation.

  “If we don’t massage your muscles, they’ll build up lactic acid, which will hurt your recovery,” Nash explains.

  “I could get used to this,” I admit.

  “Too bad this is our last session at the gym.”

  I raise my head from the massage table and look at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

  Nash looks at me and says, “Listen, Flo, I didn’t realize how broke you were. If I had known, I would have never agreed to train you.”

  “But I’m just charging it to my credit card?”

  “You really shouldn’t put something on your credit card that you know you can’t pay off.”

  “So, now you’re also my financial planner. Is that it?” I snap defensively.

  “No, I just don’t want to take your money when you really can’t afford these workout sessions.”

  “But – ”

  Nash holds up his hand. “My mind’s made up. I’m not going to train you at the gym anymore. Now, go get showered. I’ll wait for you and drive you home.”

  I’m really annoyed and disappointed. I slide off the massage table and make my way to the women’s locker room, sulking.

  After I shower, I leave the locker room and meet Nash at the front entrance.

  “Catch you later, Ron,” Nash says to a fellow trainer.

  “See ya.”

  Nash holds the door for me, and we walk to his car.

  “I really think you should reconsider,” I implore.

  Nash shakes his head. “My mind’s made up.”

  We get into his Porsche and drive out of the parking lot, making our way home.

  I can’t stop training with Nash. I need to look good when I meet Chad, face-to-face. I just don’t have the self-discipline to do this all on my own. I realize I need to go to extreme measures, so Nash will reconsider training me. “So, you’d rather see me get fat, is that it?” I prod. “You want me to sit at home, eating pizza and bagels? Because that’s what’s going to happen, Nash, if you don’t keep training me. When it comes to personal fitness, I’m an incredibly lazy person. I mean really, really lazy.”

  “I sense that,” Nash says calmly, his eyes on the road.

  “So, aren’t you at all concerned by the downward spiral this might trigger?” I continue, pestering him. “Look at me. I’m a fat mess. By ending our training sessions, you’re giving me every excuse in the book to just throw in the towel and get fatter than I already I am.”

  “Stop talking about yourself like that,” Nash says, glancing at me.

  I snort. “Please, I’m fat. I’ve been called fat my whole life.”

  “It’s not about how you look, but how you feel,” Nash says with a shrug.

  “I bet you say that to all your fat clients,” I tell him. “Or maybe you don’t have any, and that’s why you don’t want to train me. Because it doesn’t look good for your image.”

  I realize what I just said doesn’t make much sense. But I’m not thinking clearly. I’m desperate. I really want Nash to continue training me. I need his support, even though he acts like a drill sergeant most of the time.

  “Are you being serious right now?” Nash asks, cocking an eyebrow.

  “Maybe I am,” I say stubbornly as I cross my arms against my chest.

  Nash shakes his head in disbelief. That stern look returns to his face. I’m shocked, as he pulls his car to the side of the road, throws it in park, and looks at me.

  “All the bullshit you’ve been dealing with your whole life regarding your body, is just that – bullshit,” says Nash staring at me. “Own your body. Don’t be embarrassed by it. If you feel good inside your skin, then don’t work out. If you want to be more flexible and not short of breath when you take a flight of stairs, then workout. But do it because you want to, not because of what other people think about you. And definitely don’t do it for a guy. Do it because there’s somebody inside you that you want the world to see. But you have to realize, no matter what you decide, Flo, you’re okay. We all are.”

  I’m stunned by his words. I’ve never had someone talk to me that way. I’ve never had someone tell me face-to-face that I was okay the way I was. I’ve grown so used to people making comments about my weight, that it feels normal. Usually, I laugh along. So I don’t appear overly sensitive, but they always hurt. Even my parents make little comments. I’m the heaviest in my family, and remarks about my physical appearance always escape their lips, even though I know they love me. I shed a tear as I realize the impact of Nash’s words.

  “Shit, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  “Don’t worry, these are happy tears,” I gush.

  I grab a tissue from my purse.

  “I’ve never had someone talk to me like that before,” I confess to him. After blowing my nose, I look at Nash and feel grateful. “I needed that. Thank you, Nash. Too bad you’re not my trainer anymore.”

  Nash shakes his head. “I never said I wasn’t going to train you anymore. I just said I wasn’t going to take your money and have our workouts at the gym. You can’t afford it. I’ll just train you at home – for free.”

  My heart swells. I don’t know what to say. He’s incredibly generous. “I really would like to pay you,” I tell him. “I feel bad, you training me for free.”

  A car honks behind us, and Nash starts driving again. With his eyes on the road, he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll continue training this Sunday. We’ll start with some pool drills.”

  “Awesome,” I reply, grateful that Nash will still
be my much needed drill sergeant. Then it hits me, what he just said. “Wait. Did you say pool drills?”

  Nash nods. “Yeah, water resistance training plus some laps. Sound good?”

  I nod. But deep down, I realize this means I need to get a bathing suit. I hate wearing a bathing suit. The last time I wore one I was fifteen years old. One of the kids on the beach teased me and said I looked like a whale. After that day, I swore I would never wear a bathing suit again.

  Chapter 29

  Before Mr. Starbuck entered her life, Juliette approached every webcam session like an actress taking on a role. She transformed into the sexy, adventurous woman many men fantasize about.

  The truth was: Even though Juliette owned her sexuality – and wasn’t embarrassed by her carnal appetite – there was much more to her than just sex. None of her clients saw that other side of her, the side that wasn’t erotic. Juliette kept it hidden from them. It was a form of protection. So she wouldn’t get too close to a client.

  All that changed when Mr. Starbuck entered her life.

  “I can’t believe you did that?” Juliette says with a laugh. She smiles at her computer screen. Mr. Starbuck is looking more handsome than ever – clean-shaven, his hair finally dry from the shower he took after exercising.

  “I had to. I was trapped in a bathroom stall. The only way out was up,” says Mr. Starbuck with a smirk.

  Juliette laughs again.

  “You have a nice laugh,” he comments.

  “Thank you,” says Juliette, returning the compliment with another genuine smile. Then she looks at her time stamp. “I just realized we’ve been talking for over two hours.”

  “Has it been that long?”

  Juliette nods. “It has.”

  “It just flew by,” replies Mr. Starbuck.

  “I know.”

  “I guess that just shows that you’re easy to talk to,” he says, staring at her through the camera lens on his phone. His eyes radiate a confidence that draws Juliette in. “Do you want to get off?” Mr. Starbuck asks. “I don’t want to keep you from your other clients.”

  Juliette vehemently shakes her head. “That’s not it at all. I just feel bad taking your money, when all we’re doing is talking.”