An Invitation: Alayna's Training

by Jennifer Cole

  But as he felt himself drifting off into sleep, feeling more content than he had in years, Logan knew he was fooling himself.

  This one night would never be enough.

  Chapter Eight

  Day Thirteen

  The sounds of birds chirping drifted through the open window along with a cool morning breeze. As Alayna drifted closer to consciousness, her mind replayed flashes of her dream from the night before—the most wonderful dream of Logan sleeping beside her in the bed. The deep resonance of his voice echoed in the back of her mind as it coaxed her toward orgasm until she'd found release.

  Remembering the blindfold, she pulled it off and tossed it onto the bedside table. Alayna opened her eyes and smiled. This morning she felt…incredible. Contented. If she hadn't known any better, she'd swear she was sated. Sexually.

  Rolling onto her back, the scent of Logan's cologne hit her full force. Wide-eyed, she propped up on one elbow and glanced around the room, looking for him. She was alone. But his scent was heavy, heavier than usual, so much so that she was almost certain he had to be there. With narrowed eyes, she scanned the room again and cocked her head, listening for any sound other than the singing birds beyond the window. After confirming what she already knew—that she was by herself—she dropped back down to the mattress on her side. What a dream. Her hand flopped against the pillow beside her.

  She gasped. It felt warm.

  Sitting up again, she glared at the pillow so hard she wondered if it would burst into flames. There was a dip in it, as if it had been slept on. The comforter was wrinkled the length of a body. A large male body. Pressing her face to the center of the pillow, Alayna inhaled. His scent infused the pillow. The reaction of her body surprised her. Her nipples tightened, and a delightful throbbing tingled between her legs. Well of course it smells like him. This is his bed. But it was so strong. It didn't make sense. Shendah had dressed the bed in fresh linens the night before. There was no way in hell his scent should still permeate the bedding; she'd been sleeping in it for nearly two weeks.

  The only way his scent would have gotten on the pillow was if he'd actually slept in the bed alongside her.

  “Which is ridiculous.” She dismissed it as her imagination, wishful thinking. Logan hadn't shown any interest in her; in fact, he'd shown the opposite. It had to have been a dream, a result no doubt of her overactive fantasies when it came to one Logan Abram.

  Tossing the comforter and sheet aside, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stretched. The clock on the nightstand read quarter to eight. She had time to shower, dress, and be in the dining room in time for breakfast. She was starving.

  As she walked across the room toward the bathroom, her mind raced over the events of the last two weeks, and Alayna couldn't shake the thought that her being in the mansion was a waste of time. Stepping over the side of the bathtub, she pulled the curtain around her and turned on the water. When the initial cold blast showered over her, she jumped.

  After finishing her shower, she tugged on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom as she worked her hair into a French braid. Despite feeling as though she'd had the best night of sleep in weeks, Alayna wasn't in the mood to entertain the idea of another disappointing training session. She knew Rick was trying hard to assist her, but in her opinion, they were no further ahead than the first day. She found the friendship they were developing was a plus to her situation, and she couldn't wait to meet Sheila. But, she reminded herself, making friends wasn't what she'd signed on for.

  After straightening a wingback chair that was out of place and ensuring her things were picked up, Alayna left her room.

  “Hey there. Good morning,” Rick said as she entered the dining room.

  “Good morning.”

  A barrage of delicious smells coming from the adjoining kitchen filled the air. As if she'd been watching for her entrance, Shendah appeared carrying a steaming mug of coffee. The other woman waited as Alayna pulled out a chair and sat down before placing the mug on the table in front on her.

  “Thank you,” Alayna said.

  Shendah nodded. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes,” she said and then left the room.

  Alayna picked up the mug and inhaled the rich aroma before taking a mouthful. Rick folded up the newspaper he was reading and leaned over to slide it under his chair.

  “So, did you sleep well?” he asked. A glint of concerned curiosity flickered in his eyes.

  Alayna realized she was tense, which had caused her to frown, and assumed that was from where Rick's concern stemmed.

  “Better than I have in a long while. Why?” she replied, setting the cup back on the table.

  “Well, you're sporting a rather sexy glow this morning, yet you're knitting your brow.” He chuckled.

  Alayna smiled, recalling how she'd felt when she had awakened that morning.

  “I know this sounds ridiculous, but if I didn't know any better I'd swear I had sex last night,” she said.

  A look of surprise crossed Rick's face. “Come again?”

  “I'm serious. It's been a very, very long time since I felt any semblance of sexual afterglow, but that's what I feel like.”

  Rick shrugged. “Wet dream, perhaps.”

  She didn't feel the urge to elaborate…or recall her foolish suspicions that Logan had actually been in the room. Hell, the more she thought about it, the more she suspected she'd imagined what she'd seen and what she'd smelled earlier.

  “It seems logical that your subconscious is finding a way to unload and process what you're having difficulty achieving while you're awake.”

  “It's not from lack of trying,” she complained.

  “I know. But listen, I honestly believe what Dane says about you putting too much pressure on yourself. You tense up. You have trouble relaxing when we're together, and you are not to blame for that, so don't even think it.”

  “I wasn't going to say a word,” she lied.

  Rick laughed. “Sweetheart, you didn't have to verbalize it. What you're thinking is written all over your face.”

  “Nice. I'm that transparent.”

  “No, you're not. Listen, we're on the road to building trust between us, and that's a great thing, but there's more to it than that. We need to get you relaxed. When we get you there, I think we'll make even better progress. Women carry the weight of the world around on their shoulders.”

  “So you're saying we're high maintenance?”

  That brought another laugh from him. “No way. The thing is, where most men generally fly by the seat of their pants, women keep everything running smoothly. They are the caregivers, nurturers, providers; women do it all, and therefore, subconsciously, everyday stresses keep them tense. Tension hampers some women's ability to reach climax, no matter how badly they want to achieve it.”

  That made sense.

  “You miss your sister,” he said.

  “Very much,” she replied.

  “You're concerned with the restaurant, about how Ariel's fairing without you.”

  Alayna nodded.

  “Well, I think those are very valid reasons why you're having trouble.”

  “Okay, you're probably right.”

  “Before you came to the mansion, you had the stress of business interfering with your needs.”

  Alayna shrugged. “Sure, I suppose so.”

  “All right, then I suggest we try a new approach. Let's not focus so intensely on helping you reach orgasm…”

  Alayna was about to protest. That was the reason she had come to the mansion—to find herself sexually. Well, that and to find out what made Logan Abram tick. If they didn't focus on it, there was definitely no way she'd ever achieve orgasm.

  “Hold on a minute. Let me finish. We're just going to put that aspect of your training on the back burner for the time being. You've only been here two weeks; we've got lots of time, I promise. What I'm thinking is, let's focus on getting you relaxed. Get your mind
off the stresses, and then we'll get back to tapping into your inner submissive.”

  Shendah appeared from the kitchen, carrying a large serving tray with several dishes on it. Setting the tray on the stand against the wall, she proceeded to set the different plates on the table. After emptying the tray, she excused herself and disappeared back into the kitchen.

  “Well, what do you think?”

  Rick picked up a plate of French toast and offered it to Alayna before serving himself. After helping herself to two slices, she reached for the syrup.

  “What do you have in mind?” she asked, unsure where the conversation was leading.

  She had always been under the impression that sex made people relax, but now Rick thought they should take a different approach. All Alayna could think about was that Rick really wasn't interested in helping her out as the Dom in their Dominant/submissive arrangement. He'd been trying to assist her in meeting climax for over a week, and she'd done nothing more than let him down. Well, let them both down.

  Although, perhaps he did have a point. She was tense for a variety of reasons. She missed Ariel and wondered how she was making out in Alayna's absence. She missed her customers and usual routine. She missed seeing Logan at the restaurant, because he wasn't the ass there that he was here at the mansion.

  “Well, there's a gym set up in the basement. Complete with a regulation-sized boxing ring, all sorts of equipment like elliptical trainers, treadmills, and exercise bikes. What do you say we expend our energies on some of that equipment?”

  Alayna contemplated Rick's suggestion and nodded. “Okay. Let's give it a try.”

  After breakfast, they helped clear the table and then ventured into the basement.

  “Here we are,” Rick said when they came to a closed door. He gave the knob a turn and pushed it open.

  “It's about time you dragged your ass down—oh, hey, you two,” Keegan said, turning toward them from a punching bag hanging from a joist on the ceiling.

  Alayna glanced around. The room was open concept, and she guessed it was at least half the square footage of the main floor of the house. Various pieces of exercise equipment lined two of the outer walls, and in the center of the room stood a boxing ring. A couple of heavy bags hung from large hooks from the ceiling. Along one wall, shelves held a variety of gloves in different sizes and colors and different styles of head protection.

  “You were expecting someone else?” Rick asked.

  Keegan smiled. His flesh shone with a coat of sweat, and his broad chest heaved as he drew breath. “Why yes I was. But you, little lady, are a welcome surprise.” He gave Alayna a wink.

  “Our presence won't interfere with what you'll be doing, will it?” Rick asked.

  “Not as far as I'm concerned.” A mischievous gleam danced in Keegan's eye. “This is going to be fun.”

  “What is?” she asked.

  Keegan smiled down at her, but he didn't answer. “So, what brings the two of you to the dungeon?” he asked Rick.

  “I'm frustrated,” Alayna said.

  The grin on Keegan's face widened. “Mmm, well you came to the right man. I can certainly help you with that,” he said in a sexy tone.

  Keegan was good-looking, actually bordered on drop-dead gorgeous, but Alayna didn't feel a single twinge of attraction toward him. She sort of wished she had. Then maybe jealousy might trigger some reaction out of Logan.

  Behind her, Rick laughed. “Can you show Alayna how to tackle the heavy bag? We're going to work on bringing her to a more relaxed state before we get back to the sexual part of her education.”

  Alayna's cheeks heated, and she turned to confront Rick for announcing to Keegan that she was frigid.

  “Remember where you are, pet. Keegan is an instructor here as well and therefore knows about each and every client and their needs,” Rick clarified.

  “Oh. I thought you just drove the limo,” she said sheepishly.

  “Come on. Let's get you outfitted with some gloves,” Keegan said, motioning her to the wall of supplies.

  Alayna walked across the gym. “So, you're a Dominant?” she asked Keegan.

  “Sometimes,” he replied. “Though I like being in the dominant role, I don't mind switching with the right partner.”

  “What does that mean?”

  At the wall, Keegan took his gloves off and, after wiping his hands on a towel, took her hands in his. Turning them over as if checking their size, he studied them for a moment and then turned his attention to the gloves on the shelves.

  “Let's try these,” he announced, pulling a pair down. “I'm not submissive, but I don't mind offering control to my partner during our session if it's something she can handle and wants to experiment with. Here, slide your hand in. Don't bend your fingers; they'll curl into the end of the glove.”

  “Hmm, interesting. I thought a Dominant was dominant all the time. But not all Doms are comfortable with relenting control, right?”

  “That's right,” Keegan said and began to lace the glove. “In fact, some consider the role reversal to be a sign of weakness.”

  “What about you?” she asked, glancing at Rick, who was fitting himself with gloves.

  “As far as I'm concerned, sex should be fun. If you aren't having fun with the person you're with and what you're doing together, then you shouldn't be doing it,” he replied.

  “I agree. Here, slide into this one,” Keegan continued, holding the other mitt up for her.

  Once gloved up, they walked over to one of the red leather-covered bags.

  “Okay, now settle into a comfortable stance, Alayna. Something like this,” Keegan said and positioned himself in front of the bag, with his legs slightly parted and one foot in front of the other.

  Alayna mirrored him.

  “Let her rip. Take a shot at the middle of the bag,” he said.

  She drew her right arm back and thrust it forward, hitting the bag square in the center. The bag swayed from the impact.

  “Nice,” Rick called over. “What do you think?”

  “I think I like it.”

  “Do it again,” Keegan said.

  Alayna took a deep breath and threw several jerky punches at the bag. Stepping back to catch her breath, she felt a trickle of sweat race down the small of her back.

  “You're a natural,” Keegan praised. “Now let's try switching up those shots. Try this,” Keegan said, stepping in front of the bag. In slow motion, he showed her a couple of combinations over and over until she mimicked him almost to perfection. Keegan then stepped behind the bag. He held it in place and directed her to perform what he had just shown her.

  On the bag beside her, Rick began to follow the directions Keegan gave Alayna. She had no idea how much time passed as Keegan continued to show her different combos and stances in order to get the most out of her workout. Everything in her mind washed away as she punched the bag over and over.

  After what seemed like an hour, she stopped, took a step away from the bag, and bent over. “That…is…so…awesome,” she gasped around raspy breaths. With her gloved fists on her knees, Alayna struggled to draw breath. The neat braid she had put her hair in that morning had worked itself loose, and now damp curls matted against her face and neck. “But I n-need a minute to c-catch my breath.”

  The floodgates of release opened, and elation flowed through her nerve endings and veins, breathing new life into her. What a rush. She loved the supreme satisfaction she felt beating the hell out of the bag. Rick and Keegan had been right: this was an ideal way to relax.

  Beside her, Rick stopped beating the bag and came to her side. Keegan came around the bag to stand in front of her.

  “Are you okay?” they both asked.

  Still bent over, she nodded. “M-my right forearm is s-sort of pulsing though.”

  From her hunched position, she saw Rick's gloves drop to the floor. He reached under her with a towel in hand and wiped her sweat-dripping face.

  “Stand up and drink a little water,�
�� he said, urging her to stand up straight.

  When she did, he brought a water bottle to her lips and tipped it up. Keegan took her gloved hand in his and stretched out her arm.

  “Just a muscle spasm. Let me massage it out.” Placing the glove between his bicep and body to hold it in place, he began to rub her forearm and upper arm.

  When she wavered on her feet a tad, Rick moved in behind her and placed a hand on her hip to balance her. “Whoa there.”

  “You did a great job, Alayna,” Keegan praised. “I mean it. You're a natural with that right hook.”

  “Her left jab isn't bad either,” Rick said.

  “We should call Shendah down here and get the two of you in the ring,” Keegan added with a smile.

  Alayna laughed. “Shendah's quiet, but she looks like she could kick my ass. No thanks.”

  A few moments passed, and Alayna moaned at how good Keegan's manipulation of her cramp felt. As she felt the cramp ease, a scent tickled under her nose. In the same moment, Logan's voice boomed.

  “Do you three need a few more minutes?”

  Alayna's heart ceased to beat for a handful of seconds. Beneath her T-shirt, her nipples hardened, straining painfully against her bra. Between her legs, her panties dampened from both perspiration and sudden arousal. Mostly the latter. With Rick still pressed against her back, she glanced over her shoulder toward Logan. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Keegan's lips lift in a smug grin as she turned her head.

  “Perhaps,” Keegan said in a tone Alayna wasn't sure how to interpret. It was a combination of challenge and playfulness. “Do we need a little more time together, Alayna?”

  “Christ, Keegan, don't rile him,” Rick muttered, releasing his grip on Alayna's hip.

  When Alayna's eyes settled on Logan, she stifled a gasp. He wore a muscle shirt that did its job too damn well. It showed off all the bulges and ripples in his arms and shoulders. A pair of shorts hung low on his hips. His long hair was pulled back and fastened in a ponytail. At his sides, his hands were clenched into fists. His expression was tight, his eyes gleaming with…anger, maybe. She wasn't certain. But she had to admit, she kind of liked seeing him fired up.