by K J Ellis
Yeah, well done cockhead.
“Oh, you’re Remme. Sorry about that. It was just banter between me and Isaak, nothing personal towards you.” He looks over to me causing Remme to do the same. When she’s facing me, Owen mouths ‘damn, she smokin’ over at me.
Yeah, no shit.
When Remme turns back around to face Owen, he shuts his mouth and plasters an innocent smile on his face. I just shake my head at his ‘same old’ antics. Normally when he asks about my latest hook-ups, I don’t mind, but with Remme…I feel protective, borderline possessive of her.
“Remme, do you want to head to the gym while I let Owen out?”
She looks at Owen a second longer before nodding her head and stalks off.
I go to stand next to Owen and watch her arse sway as she looks away from us.
When she’s out of sight and hearing range, I slap Owen on the back of his head. “You absolute plank.” I’m laughing, because that’s how Owen and I have always been with each other. I open the front door to let him out when he stops just outside.
“I didn’t fucking know, did I? I thought it was weird that you had a girl here. I never thought it was ‘the’ Remme you told me about.” He’s got the biggest fucking smirk on his face.
“What? Do I dare ask?”
“Mate, she’s way out of your league, even for you. You played it down when you told me about her the other day. You sly dog you.” He punches me playfully in the arm.
“Goodbye, Owen.” I say, ready to close the door on him.
“Dude, you totally need to hit that. If you don’t, I fucking will.”
I know he’s only yanking my chain, but it bothers me more than it should. I swing the door back open and shout just loud enough for him, not Remme, to hear me. “Touch her and I’ll break your legs!” I all but growl at him.
“Oh, this is just too good. Catch you later.” He waves at me over his shoulder and jumps in his car.
I shut the door with more force than I intend. He’d wanted a reaction out of me, and he’s fucking got one.
Once the door is firmly shut and Owen can’t spout his mouth off anymore, I place my hands above my head and rest my forehead against the door trying to gather myself together before I go in to Remme.
Taking a few deep breaths, I turn on my heels and see the beauty that is, Remme Rivers.
My new infatuation whether I want to admit it or not.
She’s gotten so far under my skin it’s impossible for her to get out again.
And the weird thing about it…. I don’t want her to.
Chapter Twelve
Remme
I’m still waiting for Isaak to come into his more than average gym, when I hear him talking to who I now know as Owen. Jesus Christ, that man has no filter.
I’d been so shocked by the way he’d greeted me and what he was actually saying about me and Isaak. It wasn’t so much what he’d said about me—that I can take with a pinch of salt, he doesn’t know me from Adam. What he’d said about Isaak caused the reaction from me. Just hearing about Isaak’s bedroom habits and how he likes to entertain them, has done something to me. I don’t know where it’s come from or why, but I have found myself jealous of all the women he’s been with. I have no right to feel this way, but the green-eyed monster in the room with me has other ideas.
This is going to be the hardest job I’ve ever done in my whole career—the career I’ve worked so damn hard to achieve and yet I find myself unexplainably willing to give it all up…for him—for Isaak, the broken boxer, who obviously is a clear womanizer and would no doubt hurt me in the end.
Yet if he asked me to give it all up, I would do it in a heartbeat.
How is that even possible?
More importantly, where the hell did that come from? I don’t even know if he likes me like that. Apart from a few suggestive comments, he’s given me no indication to anything more than that.
“Fuck me, Remme, pull yourself together.” I look at my watch, noticing I’ve been standing here like a lemon for over five minutes. Before I know it, my feet are moving and I’m heading back through the house the way I came in. What is he playing at? I’m here to do a job if we can ever get started. Last week went really well so I want to keep it that way.
I halt abruptly just as I’m about to round the corner he’s standing behind, when I hear Isaak’s voice booming in a deathly tone.
“Touch her and I’ll break your legs.”
My hand jumps up to my mouth to shield the gasp that slips out, standing still for a couple of seconds making sure he hasn’t heard me. I don’t hear what Owen replies as he’s too far away. If I had to take a guess, it would no doubt have been something crude.
I jump out of my skin at the sound of the door meeting its hinges. Whatever Owen has said to him has clearly rattled his cage.
Great. Just what I need to work with today: an overbearing beast with a bruised ego.
I don’t hear anything else, so I bravely look, peering around the corner first to see if it’s safe. He’s leaning his head against the woodwork of the door. From this angle, I can see every ridge of his muscles bunching up as he clenches his hands into fists, making the definition of them stand out more. He has the body of a God. That’s the only way I describe what he looks like. I have to stop myself from remembering what it felt like when I was running my hands up his back and around his front over his chiselled chest only last week. Then I imagine myself running my tongue over him before he spins me around and picks me up to return the favour.
Then he slowly turns around, and the look on his face has my knickers wet and my core pulsing. Why does he have to have this level of magnetism about him? It draws me in, and I’m unable to disconnect from him.
Then I remember what he’d said to Owen, and my lust for Isaak turns to fury.
How dare he insinuate that I’m his to claim. He has no right to do that, and I’m about to state that when he opens his mouth to speak. I stop him before he can say anything.
“Wanna tell me what that was all about?” I demand, crossing my arms across my chest.
“How much did you hear?”
“Not a lot, but enough. What gives you the right to….”
He glides across the room towards me, his jaw clamped shut tightly. He looks furious and very dangerous, but I stand my ground.
“Don’t. You heard the way he was speaking about you. I wasn’t going to let him get away with it. I just snapped, end of. Now can we start with the real reason for you being here?” He doesn’t wait for a reply. Instead, he storms off, leaving me standing there with my mouth hanging open.
What the heck was that all about? I’m the one who should be mad at him, not the other way around.
I let it go as I have a job to do, and the quicker I get started, the quicker I can get out of here.
I turn around on my heel and go back the way I came yet again. All this back and forth is making me dizzy, and I’m not just talking about all the walking around this place.
When I enter the gym, Isaak is sitting down on a weights bench with his head in his hands. Only when I’m near does he pick it back up.
“So, where do you want me?” Just like that he’s back to his cheeky, flirty self. When he smiles up at me, showing off his killer dimples, I’m a goner.
I head over to my bag that I brought with me and pull out the diet plan I’ve worked on for him over the weekend, walking back over to him and handing it to him.
“What’s this?” he asks as he takes it from me. I don’t miss the fact our hands touch again, giving me an electric shock— a good one—like some kind of spark has lit between us.
“It’s your new diet and eating plan. You don’t need to eat all the calories you normally would if you were training for a fight. Just enough to give you the energy you need for your sessions and to keep your body mass level so you don’t lose too much muscle in the process. Your body is used to heavy workout sessi
ons, and at the min, you’re unable to do that. I can’t have you withering away on me or you’ll never get back to boxing again.”
He stares at me openly, and I continue in the hopes he’s paying attention.
“You also have some different exercises in there that you need to do at the weekend when I’m not with you, to build your strength and body back up,” I finish explaining.
“Okay, I can do that. What else?” he says, surprising me with the fact that he’s actually heard me.
“Now we get to work again, Isaak. I want you on the treadmill, only this time I’ll be increasing the pace and intensity of it. So, some uphill and some flat,” I say as I walk towards the machine.
“Okay. Seems easy enough.”
He knows absolutely nothing, but I’m not going to burst his bubble as he’s doing as I ask for now. This is good.
He joins me by the treadmill as I set it all up for him ready to go.
“On you get,” I say playfully.
“Jeez alright, give me chance. I am injured, let's not forget. My stamina isn’t a hundred percent yet,” he teases.
I do my best to ignore the hidden meaning behind his words.
I have him fast walking and light jogging on the treadmill for a full hour, changing up the settings to pick up the tempo a little before taking it up for a climb and then slowly bringing it down again, finishing with a leisurely walk. I see him starting to struggle. I know he doesn’t want me to see this, but it doesn’t go unnoticed. It’s why I’m good at my job, and get the results I do.
I hit the emergency stop button, telling him it’s enough for today.
He grabs a towel from the rack, wiping at his bare chest and around his neck. I find myself biting my lip to stop a moan escaping. Normally, a man with his physicality wouldn't have worked up that much of a sweat from jogging on a treadmill alone—not that I will be telling him this. It will only make him go backwards and I'm here to push him forward.
He turns to face me, and when he does, I see him rubbing at his wrists and hands. The Boxer's fracture still hasn't fully healed.
“You want to sit down while I ask you some questions?” I never got around to asking him these last week. One, I forgot the paperwork and two, I want my patients to get comfortable with me before I start asking them anything as some of them can get really personal. I feel even less comfortable asking him about them because, well, he's Isaak. It doesn't help the fact I find myself highly attracted to him. I need to put my own feelings aside in order to do my job properly. He nods his head and joins me on a long sofa in the opposite corner to his workout equipment.
“First, give me your hand.” I extend my palms, waiting for him to obey my soft order. He does so willingly, but the crease lines on his forehead tell me he's confused.
“They still causing you some pain?” I take a hold of his right hand and start to massage the tendons out. I can't bring myself to look up at him, but he's gone quiet on me, so I have no choice but do so.
I find myself really looking at him: his strong jawline, his intense eyes that I want to drown myself in…. His extremely toned abs, the pure definition of them taunting me, making me imagine what it would be like if I stuck my tongue out and licked each and every one of the bulging muscles on his body… I imagine what it would feel like having his achingly, sinful body pressed up against mine, or the feel of having his weight pressed down on me or his huge body towering over me as I’m bent over the weights bench. Mr Droolworthy really is a name that suits him.
But it doesn’t matter, because he’s a client—will only ever be a client.
“Every now and then, but whatever you're doing seems to be helping, so don't stop.” He smiles a beautiful half smile at me, causing my insides to burn.
I look into his eyes again, and every time I do, I find myself getting lost in his ocean blues.
“I’ve been fighting for a while now, and I’ve never suffered with my hands like this before. What is it you’re doing?”
“It's a technique we physiotherapists use. It manipulates and mobilises the tissue in your hand,” I simply explain. I return his smile, pleased that he's rather interested in what I'm doing now. Yet again he’s surprised me.
“By massaging it, it helps improve the blood circulation in your hand, which results in relieving some of the pain and stiffness there. It works on all parts of the body. Not just your hands,” I grin teasing him.
“Wow, if this is what you do to help me, sign me up for this kind of treatment all day, every day.” He winks. I let him have that one.
I gently let go of his right hand and take a hold of his left one and repeat the same technique again. The whole time I'm working on his hands, I can sense him looking at me.
The closeness of him makes me feel secure—secure in his company and protected all at the same time. I've never felt this safe with a guy before. There seems to be something about him that makes me feel this way. I don’t understand it, but I’m becoming incredibly intrigued by him.
Maybe there is more to this man than I first thought.
Am I crazy for thinking this?
Am I getting too close with Isaak, too quick?
Am I falling for a guy that I hardly know and who could so easily hurt me in more ways than one?
Most definitely.
The undeniable lust and interest I have for him is going to get me in so much trouble, and that thought alone is starting to excite me immensely.
Chapter Thirteen
Isaak
The look of concentration on Remme's face is intoxicating. She's fucking beautiful, and what grabs my attention more is the fact she's a natural beauty and isn’t aware of it.
I find myself lost in her as she works away, concentrating solely on my hands. I don't get what it is she's actually doing, even though she did explain it to me.
She drops my left hand back down onto my lap gently. The loss of her touch, however innocent it may have been, displeases me.
“They any better?” she asks, finally looking back at me.
“Surprisingly, yes. Thank you.”
She nods her head at me before jumping up off the sofa and bends down, grabbing a notepad and pen out of her bag. I grip the side of the sofa with my hand to stop myself from following her and situating myself up close and personal with her behind. Her shorts ride up the top of her legs giving me a glimpse of her arse cheeks, and peeking out the top, is the hint of a black silk thong. Fuck my life. My perving session is over far too quickly as she comes to sit back down again, crossing her legs in front of her.
Jesus, she's killing me here.
“Okay, so I need to ask you some questions and then we can carry on building you back up. Is that alright with you?” The sweet tone of her voice has my dick twitching.
“Yeah, shoot.”
She sticks the pen in between her lips and twirls it around. I so wish it was something else occupying her mouth right now.
“How are the headaches on a scale of one to ten?”
“Right now, zero; normally five, I'd say. They only really bother me every now and then,” I answer.
“Okay, so that's improving. Good. On a scale of one to ten again, how is the pain in your hands?” She looks up from her notes after writing something down, patiently waiting on me.
“Again, zero. Before you worked your magic, though, I'd have said six, maybe seven.”
She nods and writes on her notepad again. I lean forward to try and gage what she's written, but she lifts the pad before I can see.
“Is this some sort of test or something?” I ask as I sit back again.
“No, Isaak. It's to help me learn and understand your body better. There are no right or wrong answers. It’s more for me so I can work on what is best in your sessions.”
I want to come back with an inappropriate comment, but I bite my tongue instead.
She asks me a few more questions about my weight and eating habits, tha
t sort of stuff.
“Okay, last question and then we can get you doing some squats, jump rope and push ups that sort of stuff in twenty minutes intervals to give your hands a rest today.” She's chewing at the inside of her lip as she blushes with embarrassment.
What I wouldn’t give to be the one biting and nipping at that lip of hers.
“Whatever it is, just ask me, Remme.”
“Okay. When was the last time…you…you had sexual intercourse?” Well I was not expecting that.
The blush on her cheeks is adorable, and it makes me want to press her buttons more.
“Sex, around twelve weeks ago. Rules are rules: no sex before a fight. Now masturbation is a whole other story. You need to know about that?” I can't help but smirk at her. Her reaction to me being brutally honest about my sex life is hilarious.
“No... That's not necessary. As long as it's not... strenuous it's fine.”
Is she serious right now? She's so alluring when she's embarrassed. I'm struggling to hold in my laughter, so I hide my face behind my hand.
“If you must know, it was sometime last week and multiple times. If I'm being totally honest, I could have done... with a helping hand.” I move further over the sofa towards Remme’s teasingly sinful body just an inch or two. This is the perfect time to make my move. I lean forward slightly.
She coughs, trying to clear her throat, giving me no choice but to sit back again. I swear I hear her slip out an 'oh God', unless it was my imagination.
“Okay. That's us all done for today. I'll be back the same time tomorrow.” She fidgets and tries to gather all of her belongings up quicker than her hands can keep up with. So much for carrying on with my session today. I might have made a mistake when I leaned in towards her. Even if I have gotten to her. She’s reacted in the way I’d been hoping. She’s into me just as much as I am her, although I feel my ego bruising. If it was any other female, I’m positive they would have reciprocated it.
Her eyes wander around the gym room, looking anywhere but at me.