by Lucia Franco
Once in a forward facing T, he pulled his legs up into a pike position. My gaze traveled down his solid chest, taking in his lean abdomen.
And my mouth gaped open, a gush of hot air rolling off my lips.
Mother of all hell.
There was a fairly large Olympic ring tattoo on the left side of his ribs. Unlike the colorful rings the symbol was known for, Kova’s five ring tattoo was in solid black. And with each breath he took, the tattoo moved as if it were floating on his skin.
Sweet Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I was gawking at his body, and it was hard to tear my gaze away. The tattoo and placement was unbelievably sexy. It upped his hot factor by ten million, not that he needed it.
Suddenly, he began swinging hard in circles and then landed a back tuck dismount. His feet pounded the ground, the chalk lifting in the air from impact. He rose to his full height, eyes closed and shoulders rolled back as his chest expanded from deep breaths. The tattoo grew then shrunk with each breath he took. It was almost impossible to tear my eyes from his ribs. My gaze traveled down his waist to where his shorts sat extremely low. He had those indents on his hips that formed a V, and my God, my mouth started to water.
For a split moment, I forgot he was my coach. I pictured myself running my hands slowly up his stomach, massaging his worn muscles, before tracing his tattoo and exploring his body. My fingers gliding over his arms, roaming over his shoulders in the dark where no one could see us.
Ten more minutes passed while I secretly watched Kova as just him, a man on the rings, and nothing more. I didn’t move a muscle, just watched in awe...until my phone started ringing.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Grabbing my cell, I silenced my mom then looked back over to the rings to see him glaring at me from under the apparatus. Standing up, I had no choice but to walk over to him.
Kova let go of the rings, whipped his hands back and forth, and firmly crossed his arms in front of his bare chest, his stance intimidating as he stood under the rings. His biceps grabbed my attention and I could feel his searing, pissed gaze focused on my face.
“Adrianna,” he stated more than called my name.
“Coach.”
“What are you doing here?” He asked, dropping his arms to rub his wrists then crossed his hands behind him, his pecs flexing. I openly raked my eyes down the length of his gorgeous body. There was no way not to, and honestly, I didn’t care that he saw me do it.
I shrugged, closing the distance between us. “I needed to think. Sometimes I like coming here when it’s empty.”
“So you come to the gym to just lie on the floor?”
He was skeptical. It was obvious, but I told him the truth. He could decide what to do with it.
“I do...I feel free in the dark, no one here to judge me,” I said, pinning him with honest eyes.
“But you are lying on the floor?”
I let it all out. “Exactly. No one can say I’m doing anything wrong, that my form is incorrect, or how my legs aren’t locked. Stupid things I already know. I’m not fearful I’ll slip on the beam, or I’m not blocking hard enough on vault. No one to make me feel like I’m not good enough, that I’m not graceful enough. There’s no one to hate the ground I walk on in here when I’m alone. No one can see me in the dark to point out my imperfections. It’s just me and the gym, all by myself to do as I please.”
He almost looked remorseful at my admission. “And you cannot do this at home?”
I looked away to conceal my emotions. “No, it’s too quiet there. Usually the loneliness doesn’t bother me and I embrace it. Some nights it gets to be too much, so I run away and come here,” I finished quietly. “The oddness of it all, I feel more at home here than anywhere else. Tonight, the silence in my condo was deafening and I needed to get out. The gym speaks to me. ”
“Hey,” he said, taking a step toward me so he was only inches away. “It is okay. I understand why you are here alone. Why do you think I am here?” His eyes locked with mine, and through the muted lights a shadow covered half his face as something stirred between us. My heart stammered, feeling it, and I knew he felt it too by the look of his dilating pupils that took up most of his bright eyes. His jaw locked, shifting back and forth.
Time stood still.
“How do you do it,” I whispered. He took a small step toward me and I held my breath. I watched as his eyes skated across my face, my eyes, nose, to my cheeks...where they locked on my mouth. We were balancing on a fine line and we both knew it.
My heart raced, the blood in my veins heating as his gaze struck me to the core. My lips parted, a soft breath expelling. I didn’t know what to do, what to say. Kova was so close as we stood alone in the darkened gym. I thought about how he touched me the other day in the cafe and the way he looked at me. It was nothing compared to the way his eyes were boring into mine in this moment where no one could see us. It rendered me speechless. Anything could happen now—and that intrigued me.
Tension crackled and I knew he felt it. There was no denying the invisible pull or the gleaming look in his eyes. Lifting his hand, the back of his chalk covered knuckles brushed across the edge of my jaw. I knew he shouldn’t be doing it, he sure as hell knew he shouldn’t be, but I tilted my head into his hand, asking for more.
Leaning down, he whispered, “Do what?”
“How do you hold steady on the rings the way you do? I was in awe watching you. You move so quietly, I can’t tear my eyes away.”
“Control.”
The heat of his body radiated on to mine and I felt his response on my lips. My heart pounded painfully against my ribs. Kova was as exhilarating as his touch. I wanted so badly to reach out and grab him.
“Control. Power. Muscle memory,” he responded huskily, the look in his eyes piercing me. “You have to know your body inside and out. When to let go. When to hold on. You have to feel it, visualize it...want it.”
“How do you know when to let go?”
“Your body will tell you. Listen to your body, Ria. Trust it. What is it telling you?” he asked in a smoky voice, sending goose bumps down my arms. I loved when he called me Ria when no one else was around.
Biting my bottom lip, my eyes slowly met his as I gripped his thick wrist that cupped my face. My other hand reached for his waist and latched on. I couldn’t stop myself, I wanted to feel him...I needed to. If he was touching me, I could touch him. It was only fair. At least now I had an excuse—a justification. But what I really wanted to do was trace the tattoo on his ribs.
My fingers caressed his taut hips, the back of my knuckles dragged along the waistband of his shorts ever so delicately. Kova’s eyes widened and he drew in a shaky breath as his stomach flexed. He wasn’t expecting it, and truthfully, I didn’t know where I got the courage to do it. I stepped closer to continue my exploration.
I couldn’t keep my hands to myself, I didn’t want to. I wanted to know what it was like to be pressed against him, my heart to his, beating at the same time.
Our chests nearly closed the distance, our gazes locked, and I could feel the heat of his skin under my hand. A million thoughts were running through my mind. Every second passed was like torture. His body was solid as stone but soft to the touch. I slid my hand up his ribs, my thumb finally circling the tattoo.
“I like your tattoo,” I admitted. “A lot.” A slow breath rolled off his lips and into my face. A faint hint of cranberry and vodka.
“I want to learn control like you,” I whispered.
“All in good time.”
“Teach me.”
“Control?”
I nodded, taking in every inch of his chest.
“You ask for too much.”
I stared up through my eyelashes, trying to conceal my emotions. He was right. I was asking for more than gymnastics and he knew it, but at the same time I didn’t know exactly what I was asking for. I had no idea what I wanted and more importantly, I had no idea what the hell we were doing.
We’d be
en dancing around each other for weeks now. The lingering touches, the long stares. It was building, simmering between us.
With both trembling hands now resting on his firm chest, one of his hardened nipples grazed the bottom of my palm and he contracted. His head angled down, his eyes boring into mine. If only I was a little taller.
“Is this what control is?” My gaze traveled to his mouth as I slightly tilted my head and lifted up to the balls of my feet. I wanted to kiss him desperately, to feel his lips pressed to mine. “Wanting to try a new skill without preparing for it first? That I could be risking everything?”
I was purely infatuated with him.
Kova reached out and gripped my arm from my temptation laced words. His fingers dug into my bicep. I watched his control waver, and for a selfish moment, I hoped it snapped.
“That is exactly what it is,” he said quietly. “Wanting to try something so badly but knowing it is not the right step. At least not yet. Knowing when to spring forward and knowing when not to. You perfect your craft to the best of your ability when you are ready. It is also about control and trust. Trust more than anything in yourself.”
“When will I know?” I whispered.
“Practice. Practice. Practice. It is all about being able to execute a flawless routine. A feeling that streams through your body. You will know when the time is right.”
“What if I don’t?”
He paused, his cool breath hitting my face. “Gymnastics is very similar to everyday life. It is trial and error, Ria. It is about taking chances, is it not? It is about power. A mental war. It is about not being afraid to try something new even if it scares you. If you do not jump, you will never know how high you can soar. It is about controlling your leap once you let go, but not being afraid of switching your directions. It is a chance you are willing to take.”
“And what if I take the leap and slip?”
My heart was racing. His hands cupped my jaw, tilting my head back. “Then you get back up and try again.”
For a moment, time stood still. Everything was forgotten except the two of us standing in the empty gym. We were inches apart, an intake of breath away from doing something that would go against the rules, and the law. The code of ethics. Morals.
And for whatever reason, none of that mattered to me.
Kova’s thumb circled my jaw so softly that it took everything in me not to shiver. It was as if he was touching me beneath my flesh, purposely heating my body and tugging on every fiber. His caress was powerful.
The look in his beautiful, deep green irises stripped me bare. I couldn’t seem to tear my focus from his. And truthfully, I didn’t want to. His eyes were hypnotic. Spellbinding. Alluringly tantalizing, and I felt him down to the bone.
My hold tightened on his bare skin. The palm of his hand grazed my cheek and slid down to my jaw, leaving a trail of heat in its wake where his warm hand cupped my nape. My heart pounded and my breathing grew shallow. I wanted him to lean in and kiss me, to press his lips to mine and kiss me hard. I just wanted to feel his flesh on me.
My body ached from standing on my tiptoes, but I didn’t dare back down. Instead, I tilted my head, giving him access to my mouth, the same way I gave him access to my hips. His stare shifted down to my parted lips...then to my chest.
I waited to see if he would take it or not.
Kova inhaled deeply and I curled into him like I was the air he was breathing in. His fingers found the zipper to my jacket. Carefully, he pulled the zipper down. His gaze met mine again as he reached the bottom. Kova’s calloused fingers slid under the material and pushed it down my shoulders until it fell silently to the floor. He hissed, his eyes crinkled. Looking down, I wore a solid white cami, sans bra. And there was no mistaking the outline of my breasts or the hardening of my nipples. Attentively, his hand came up and his knuckles grazed the outside of my plump breast ever so slowly. Our breathing mingled together and my body reached for his touch.
His arm circled my lower back and tenderly pulled me to him. Yes. He was so big, so strong and dominating in the way he held me. A long, hard length lay angled against my pelvis and my body melted into him. His erection tapped my pussy and my eyes rolled shut. I placed my hand on the curve of his neck, feeling his raw power contract beneath my fingertips. The man was a walking sin. I kept telling myself I couldn’t help it, that I needed to feel more of him, to make something happen. Sometimes a little self-convincing helped.
His stubble grazed my cheek, and his breath tingled my neck. I gasped, my stomach tightened.
He made his move, and I mimicked it.
Something shifted deep inside me, an awakening of an emotion heated my blood. A dark desire inside my belly was aching to come out. I tilted my jaw seeking his mouth. No words were needed, just a single touch and a sigh would be enough to get what I—we—wanted. We were so close to closing the gap fully, our lips pressed to one another, but neither one moved. Probably because whoever took the first step knew better than to.
I wanted to kiss my coach...And I was positively certain he wanted to kiss me.
It was that simple. Only it really wasn’t. At fifteen and thirty-two, it was anything but simple.
What it was, was morally wrong.
But who was asking?
“What are you doing, malysh?” His breath tickled my neck. Malysh. He called me malysh again and I almost melted.
“Maybe I’m...” I paused to lick my lips. “Testing out a new move, I think...I don’t know.”
I had no idea what the hell I was doing. The only thing I knew was I was in way over my head and there was no going back. Nothing was going to stop me from moving forward. I wanted his mouth on mine. I wanted to taste his lips and feel his tongue tangled with mine. I was just too nervous to take the plunge.
“You should be practicing control,” he whispered, angling only a breath away from my lips. His Russian accent was stronger than usual, and I liked it a lot. His erection grew harder and I loved it, loved that I caused it. The tension was stifling and my chest burned from the rapid beats of my heart. I wished he’d just kiss me already.
“But you are not practicing at all.”
“I asked for your guidance. Show me control and I’ll practice it.”
“You should step away.”
“I should? Or I need to.”
“Both.”
“And if I don’t? You told me to use you, remember? So here I am, asking.”
He paused, his lips curling in satisfaction. “After a workout, my body is weak, and my control sucks, Ria. I have no control now,” and then he slammed his mouth to mine.
A-fucking-men!
I whimpered into him. His lips were firm and bruising, much like his personality. My hands slid up his chest and I squeezed his shoulders, my nails scoring his skin. A flood of heat pulsed through my body, my hips rolled into his, feeling the hardness between them. Finally, we were touching the way we both secretly envisioned it.
At least how I have.
The tight grip on my arm moved to my waist, pulling me flush against him. His fingers threaded my hair, holding my loose ponytail in his hand. We didn’t stop moving our mouths back and forth. His plump lips were soft, pliable, coercing me to bend to his will. They were exactly what I imagined they’d feel like.
I wanted more. My body craved more, to see how far we could take this.
With a flick of my chin, I reached up and grabbed the back of his head and pressed him further into me. His hair was damp with sweat from working on the rings. He groaned, biting my bottom lip and pressed his hardness into my stomach. It was sexy as hell to hear him moan and I was desperate for the sweet sound again.
Sweet Jesus. Yes... Screw the embarrassment over the sounds I was holding in. I moaned in the back of my throat, letting Kova know how much I liked this. I was hot, achy, and reached blindly for something I wasn’t sure of.
With a tilt of my head, I opened my mouth and gently pulled his bottom lip with my teeth. He clutched
me to him hard, his fingers dug into me and he exhaled into my mouth. Hesitantly, tracing the seam of his lips, I slipped my tongue inside. A soft whimper escaped me. The taste of him was as sweet as candy, and cool with the hint of vodka I’d smelled earlier.
Just as I was getting comfortable with him, Kova stiffened. Shockingly, he pushed me away and covered his mouth, uttering a string of Russian curse words hidden behind the back of his hand.
The hurt in my eyes could not be contained from the sudden ache he just caused in my heart. Glancing down, I eyed the mat.
“Shit,” he muttered, followed by something in Russian again. “Adrianna, I am sorry.”
I was confused. “It’s okay.”
“No, it is not okay. I should not have let this happen, let anything happen for that matter. Like the other day after you straddled the beam. It was wrong of me.” His stomach hardened to granite with each hard breath he drew in. “Do you know how wrong this is?”
My head snapped to his. “Wrong? How is it wrong? I don’t understand. It was just a kiss.”
Appalled, he looked at me sharply and I flinched. “Do not look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you are hurting, upset. It...” he stammered, “affects me more than I care to admit.”
Rolling my lip between my teeth and releasing it, I said, “I am upset. It isn’t like you’re hurting me, or forcing me to do anything I don’t want. I don’t see how this could be so wrong when it feels so right.” I sighed dejectedly. “I didn’t want to stop.”
“You are not making this any easier.” Then he strode toward me and crushed his lips to mine.
Kova wrapped an arm around my back and hauled me to him, his fingers trembled beneath his touch. It was obvious he struggled with what he shouldn’t be doing. But there was no denying the way he held me, the way his passion and emotion oozed into me. He wanted me. The hard length pressing against my stomach was evidence.
Our tongues collided, heat flared between us. They wrapped around each other, grabbing and fighting, twisting with desire. My God, the man was a skilled kisser and knew exactly how to tangle his tongue with mine and tug, stroking it simultaneously. My body tingled in his hold. This kiss was unlike any other I’d experienced in the past. He was untamed and wild and it made me want to feel every inch of him.