Personal Trainer

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Personal Trainer Page 34

by Mia Carson


  Now, she wouldn’t even be able to do that. Belle had ruined him for her.

  His finger hovered over the keypad on his cell, wondering if he should send anything back. Maybe ignoring her wasn’t sending the right message. He hunkered down over his desk and told her very simply to leave him alone. He wasn’t interested in anything she was offering, not anymore. He hit send and set his cell down, turning to his computer to log in remotely for the day and see what messes Tim had made so far. He was barely into his e-mails when his cell vibrated, and he cursed to see another message from Aiden.

  His lips moved over the words: You’ll regret this, Greyson. One day you’ll regret turning me away.

  “I think not,” he replied aloud, deleted her contact, and blocked her number from his cell. As he set his cell back down, he sucked in a deep breath and blew it out, releasing some of the tension built up in his body over the past two weeks.

  Some but not all. He tried to focus on what he needed to do for the day, but his mind drifted back to Belle standing in the hallway wearing nothing but a damn towel. “Shit,” he muttered and rocked back in his office chair.

  There was no way in hell he’d be able to keep this up much longer before he gave into his desires. She wasn’t ready for a fun-filled night of sex, not with her injuries, but maybe it was time he let her see that he did want her with him. A night of relaxation would help ease her annoyance at him, too. Grinning madly at his plan, Greyson set to work coming up with the perfect night for Belle. He grabbed his cell, dialed her friend Carrie, and looked out the window, taking in the view of his large, completely private backyard.

  “Carrie, Greyson Taylor,” he said when she answered. “I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about Belle. You have a minute—or ten?”

  Chapter 10

  A few days passed, and Belle sat in a patch of sunlight streaming in from the rear windows of the ranch as it set. Her laptop sat on a table beside the overstuffed chair, but she ignored it. She held her broken wrist in her left hand and picked absently at the cast. She wanted it gone so she could finish her projects. She needed to do something to keep her mind occupied while she contemplated what Greyson was really playing at having her living with him.

  This was all new territory for her to begin with, but she’d accepted his invitation—or demand, really—with an open mind. The other day, when she’d stood in the hall wearing nothing but a towel, she’d expected him to finish what they had started. But his eyes had flickered to her cast, and just as he had before, he shut down.

  Was he scared he would physically hurt her? All her other bruises and cuts were almost healed, and the cast secured her wrist. The pain meds helped a lot. She was in good enough condition for exploring whatever this was between them, but Greyson refused to make a move, and when she tried to hint that she wanted him, he purposely avoided it.

  She was ready to track him down and tell him she was going back to her dorm, whether he liked it or not, when he walked out of the hallway leading to his office. His eyes were bright, and he bounced on the balls of his feet. Unable to keep herself from smiling, despite her annoyance, she shifted in the chair to face him.

  “What are you up to?” she asked suspiciously, her heart fluttering.

  “I need you to come with me,” he told her, “but you have to wear this.” He held up a blindfold, and Belle’s heart leapt clear into her mouth.

  “For what?”

  “A surprise. I promise, you’ll love it,” he promised, and the ruddy complexion she saw through his beard told her he was pleased with his surprise. “I hope you’re ready for a long few days.”

  “Days?”

  Unsure, she stood and let him wrap the blindfold around her eyes. His hands brushed across her shoulders, and she leaned into his touch. He stilled behind her, and for a moment, she rested against his chest, breathing him in and letting the promise of a storm surround her, but he moved, took her hand, and said to trust him.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, giggling when he cursed and she heard a table scoot across the floor. “Greyson?”

  “Don’t worry. I was too busy watching you,” he replied.

  Belle’s cheeks warmed, and she nibbled her lip as he maneuvered her slowly through his house. She noticed when the light changed and it grew dark.

  “Greyson?” she asked when he let go of her hands and she came to a hesitant stop. “Can we…uh, can we talk about this surprise? You know… I mean, I know I’ve been hinting that I’m ready, but if you’re into something weird that I don’t know about—oh!” She gasped when he untied the blindfold and it fell away. “Oh, wow… oh man, this is crazy!”

  Belle staggered forward another few steps, her eyes unable to take in everything as quickly as she wanted. Her hands covered her mouth as she giggled loudly. The far wall sported two large monitors, filling the wall from one end to the other. Sitting on a black desk—twice the size of the one from Greyson’s office—sat two state of the art keyboards, mice, and headsets, all the latest models of gaming gear from Greystone Games. She rushed forward with a shriek and picked up the headset carefully, turning it around to examine its new contoured shape.

  “This is incredible,” she whispered. Greyson watched her intently. “Where are we… What is all of this?”

  He set the blindfold down and held up his hands as he glanced around the room. “This is my state of the art, at-home gaming room,” he told her proudly. “And just so you know, I’ve never let anyone back here before—well, except Tim. But he was drunk and probably doesn’t remember.”

  He pointed out a mini fridge, a pantry filled with snacks, another fridge with beer, and two incredible gaming chairs Belle could never hope to afford. She watched as he sauntered to the desk and clicked the mouse. The monitors came to life with the login screen for Greyson’s first successful Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game, Dragon Slayers of Gorgoth.

  “You ready for a few crazy days?” he asked and pulled out a chair for her.

  She nodded enthusiastically until she remembered her cast and frowned. “I don’t think I can, not with the cast, and I don’t have an account.”

  “Oh yes, you do—for life, actually,” he said and picked up the mouse. “And I fixed this so it should be easier for you to use. Try it.” He held it out to her, and she took it from him. The flat mouse allowed her fingers to reach the right and left buttons easier. It glided smoothly across the mouse pad, and she shook her head.

  “How did you think of this?”

  “I had some help,” he admitted. “Carrie said you’d been a fan of this game since it came out but could never afford to play. I thought we’d change that.”

  It was too nice—the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her, actually—and she hesitated until he reached out and held her hand in his warm one.

  “I know it’s been weird the last two weeks,” he said quietly. “And I know you’re not used to be taken care of, but let me do this for you without an argument. Please?”

  “What about work?”

  His teeth flashed white against his beard as he leaned closer. She held her breath, hoping he would kiss her, but he didn’t. Inwardly, she sighed. “That's an advantage of being the CEO, and I have some vacation time. Tim can handle it for a few days.”

  He motioned to the chair again, and with nothing to hold her back, she flopped into it with a laugh and he pushed her in. She put the headset on, maneuvering the mic down towards her face. He gave her the credentials to log in, and as the music reverberated through the headphones, vibrating her whole body, she bounced in her chair, unable to contain herself. The desk was far enough back from the wall that she could watch both monitors clearly. Belle let herself get lost in the game and created her dragon-slayer warrior, complete with piercings matching hers but with bright red hair. Greyson created a new one, and they entered the game together.

  “Are you ready to save Gorgoth?” he teased, and she heard the grumble of his voice through the headse
t.

  Belle couldn’t believe she sat beside not the only the man who created the game she was getting ready to dive head first into, but the man she was pretty sure she was falling for despite the confusion between them. He admitted it’d been weird, and maybe this was the only way to break the strange tension between them. She leaned back in her chair, placed her fingers on the keyboard, and watched the game load.

  “Yeah… yeah, I’m ready,” she replied, bit the tip of her tongue, and held on.

  “Kill it!” Belle yelled with a laugh as she hit the number keys furiously on her keyboard.

  “Damn it, I need a heal,” Greyson growled and yelped when his character took another hit. It threw him away from the dragon king boss, and he cursed again as his limp body hit the ground in the game, leaving Belle alive. “You got this.”

  “Are you kidding me? It’s got half health left!” She squealed as she managed to block a hit and kited the dragon around the dungeon. “You just had to die on the final boss!”

  He watched the screen intently as she continued to race around the dungeon, cursing when she took a hit and her health split. “Potion, health potion,” he muttered and tapped her shoulder in his excitement.

  She shrugged him off with a growl. “Got it. Don’t tell me how to play. You’re dead, remember?”

  Greyson gripped the arm of her chair and ducked with her when the dragon unleashed a mouthful of fire at Belle’s character. She gritted her teeth and flung her sword as she raced around the dragon, kiting it in a circle while avoiding the fireballs falling from its mouth.

  For someone who’d never played this game before, she had spent the last three days amazing him by how easily she picked it up. She was a gaming natural, just like her designs and her sketches. This was the world she was meant to be in. The same world as him.

  “Combo move,” he called out and pointed at the screen.

  Belle swatted at his hand, but she laughed as she did it, her tongue poking out from her lips as it did when she focused hard on something. Every time she did it, he grinned, unable to look away. He had to admit, he hadn’t had this much fun in years with anyone. And they weren’t even naked. For some reason, the idea that he could just have fun with a woman without sex being involved never crossed his mind, yet with Belle, he hoped it would never end.

  “There it is!” she yelled, and to his amusement, she stood for the final few hits as she slaughtered the dragon boss. Her character leapt into the air and drove its sword point down into the dragon’s skull, just as Greyson designed it to do years ago. “We did it! Holy shit!”

  “No, you did it,” he cheered and stood beside her. She turned, her eyes bright with excitement, and removed her headset. “I’ve never seen anyone play like that, not even Tim. Hell, not even me!”

  “Whatever,” she said, breathless from the excitement.

  “No, I’m serious. I’m sorry you were never able to play before,” he said and reached out gently to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers trailed down her piercings, touching each one, and her lips parted. “You… uh, you hungry?” he said lamely, and he caught the flare of annoyance in her eyes when he pulled back.

  “Sure. I need to take some pain meds anyway,” she mused and walked around him to the door. At the threshold, she glanced back. “Greyson?”

  “Yeah?” he asked, holding his breath.

  She moved back to him and stood on her toes in front of him. “Thanks for this, really,” she whispered, and her apple and cinnamon scent surrounded him. “I know I haven’t made this easy, and I’m sorry if this is too weird for you or whatever, but—”

  Her words cut off when he lowered his mouth to hers, capturing her lips. She gasped in surprise but didn’t pull away. Her arms reached around his neck as his circled her waist and drew her into the warmth of his body. God, he wanted her. He possessed her mouth, exploring the depths with his tongue as she moaned quietly against him. Her hand reached down and tugged gently at his beard until he growled and his hands tightened around her. There was a convenient couch in the gaming room, and he eyed it over her head, ready to move her in that direction when the bulk of her cast bumped his arm and she winced.

  Greyson broke the kiss and moved back. “Sorry, forgot your arm.”

  “My arm is in a cast, and it’s fine,” she argued, but he took another step back, putting distance between them. “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?” he muttered and strode quickly for the door.

  “Take care of me, treat me to three days of intense gaming that’s the most fun I’ve had in as long as I can remember, share another mind-blowing kiss, and then bail on me.” He heard her stomp after him, but he refused to turn around, too worried he’d lose the little control he’d gained. “Why?”

  “We can’t do much with the cast on your arm or until your other injuries are completely healed,” he said, but she didn’t accept that as an answer when she laughed harshly. “Can we just eat?”

  “No, I’m not eating with you.” She pushed past him and walked quickly down the hallway.

  “You have to eat,” he called after her, but she slammed the bedroom door hard enough to shake the pictures on the wall. “Damn woman,” he muttered and stalked after her. When he reached her door, he pounded his fist on it. “Open the door, Belle.”

  “No,” she yelled. “I’m not hungry.”

  He tried the handle and grunted when he found it locked. “You have to eat sometime!”

  “Not with you,” she replied.

  He paced back and forth outside the door, running his hand over his beard. “Belle, please just come out. There’s no reason to act like this.”

  “There is when you can’t make up your damn mind!”

  His feet stopped, and he leaned against the doorframe, resting his forehead against her door as he ground his teeth. “It’s complicated,” he spat out finally.

  The door whipped open so fast, he nearly fell face first into Belle’s glare. “It’s complicated? That’s what you’re saying to me. It’s freaking complicated?”

  “Yes,” he told her firmly.

  “No, you don’t get to sum it all up with ‘it’s complicated,’” she shot at him. “You can’t rush to the hospital after I’m in an accident, invite me to stay at your damn house while I recover, and not touch me at all! You act like we didn’t share a few heated kisses—and oh yeah, by the way, you gave me my first damn orgasm!” She poked him hard in the chest as she spoke. “Don’t you dare stand there and tell me it’s complicated! Of course it’s complicated, you moron!”

  She backed up and slammed the door in his face before he could think of a reply. The lock clicked into place, and Greyson hung his head.

  “Can we talk about this please? Over dinner?”

  “Go eat alone. I don’t feel like talking.”

  “Fine. I guess you won’t have anything for dinner,” he snapped, losing patience quickly. Didn’t she understand what this did to him? How much he wanted to hold her again, take her in his arms and love her as she should be loved? Didn’t she know how much it terrified him to open up like that?

  He stormed away from her door to the kitchen and glared into his freezer before slamming it shut, snatching up his car keys, and bolting out of the house. It was the first time he’d left Belle alone, and as the Mustang roared to life, part of him wondered if she’d still be there when he got back.

  Chapter 11

  The moment she heard the Mustang tear out of the drive, Belle unlocked her door and called out into the house. Greyson didn’t respond. She leaned against the doorframe, still furious with him and at the same time still falling for the damn man. All she wanted was for him to admit he liked her too, and she wanted more than just a night. Why was that so terrifying?

  She glanced into her room and considered calling a cab to come get her. He wanted her to live with him, but maybe it was too soon. You pushed, she told herself as she left her room to find some food in the kitchen. You hate bein
g pushed, and look what you did. You pushed him so hard he ran away rather than talk to you. Good job, Belle.

  Groaning, she laid her head on her arms at the kitchen island and stared at her feet. What was she even doing here? She’d head back to the dorm first thing in the morning and tell him the second she was off the pain meds for her wrist and other bruises and scratches, she’d get back to work. Until then, she could do some things remotely for him, but her eyes flickered to her laptop in the living room, untouched for those three glorious days with him. At least now she had a mouse she could use so her work would go a bit faster. She was about to make a sandwich so she could get back to work when a key grated in the front door lock, echoing through the house. She braced herself for facing Greyson again.

  “Where is that boy?” a white-haired woman asked loudly as she pulled her key from the lock and closed the door behind her.

  “Sally?” Belle asked when the woman finally turned and puffed out her cheeks in relief.

  “Ah, Belle,” she called brightly. “You look wonderful! How’ve you been feeling?”

  “Better, I think,” she said, and the old woman embraced her tightly. The first time she hugged her, Belle didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t used to a mom. None of her foster moms had been hands-on, which had been fine with her, but Sally had given her so many hugs, Belle started to miss them when she didn’t see the woman for a while. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Greyson hasn’t answered his cell for three days, and I was getting frantic calls from Tim,” she told her and carried her large, hand-stitched buckskin purse to the kitchen table. “Where is he, anyway?”

  “He went to get some food,” she said with a bright smile, but Sally’s raised eyebrow told her she saw right through it. “We may have had a teensy argument.”

 

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