I pushed at the button in front of me to quicken the pace. My energy levels were just not dropping that morning, despite having ran for the last thirty minutes at a fairly moderate intensity - if I did say so myself.
Watching the shirtless hunk through the mirror was certainly not doing anything to dowse my flame. I knew him, in the sense that I’d seen him around before. Always shirtless, always covered in sweat, and almost always surrounded by beautiful women.
He was untouchable, but that was okay because I wasn’t looking for anything more than a bit of eye candy.
Except for that morning he’d caught my eye and winked.
Normally I would’ve ran out of there, so freaked out that I would’ve forgotten to pick up Ava and Hallie from the crèche. But today was different.
The last few weeks had been different. Ever since he stepped back into the club, back into my life, the world had shifted.
I was hot... on edge... yearning. For him.
For his magical fucking tongue.
I couldn’t even believe it had happened. It was the most bizarre thing. I would have thought it had all been a dream if it hadn’t been for my mind obsessing over it. The act.
Why had I called him? Why had I met him?
I’d let him go down on me in a fucking back alley. That wasn’t me. That clearly said something about my mental state at the time. That wasn’t something I’d ever do, it even sounded like something I would cringe at if it had happened to anybody else. But it didn’t, it had happened to me.
He’d given me every opportunity to stop. We didn’t, because I didn’t want to.
And on the less rational side of my brain, why the fuck hadn’t he taken things even further?
I’d been ready and willing for anything. Everything.
Ugh, it had been so good.
So good. So much better than I remembered.
He may have given me just one orgasm in that back alley but there had been many more at home, just thinking of his lips. His hands. His tongue.
I probably should have been embarrassed about how turned on I’d been, literally begging for it. And he’d delivered. So quickly.
A snap of his fingers - a lick of his tongue - and I was a goner. For him. But that wasn’t right. I didn’t want to revert back to that girl, the one that would be at his beck and call. Who would give up anything just to spend time with him? I was in love but I was also pathetic, and dependable.
I needed to show him, and myself, that I had changed. I wasn’t that girl anymore. I didn’t want to be.
Hence the reason I didn’t run when the shirtless gym hunk noticed me. Nor did I flinch when he materialized on the treadmill next to mine. He smiled and I reached for the buttons of the screen. I slowed down to a gentle jog. I had absolutely no interest in showing off and making a fool of myself. I could’ve easily seen that happening - me tripping over my own feet, head bouncing off the screen, mouth slamming against the handlebars.
Yeah, that could’ve easily been a catastrophe. I reached for the buttons again, slowing to a brisk walk. I flashed a smile at the hunk once more before beginning to gather my things.
It was obvious that I needed to get home as fast as possible, fill my tub with ice and bathe in it for a couple of hours.
Maybe not, that sounded like a lot of work but I definitely needed a shower before dropping the girls off at Moms and heading to the club. And just like that, the fire burning inside me - the voice yelling at me to drag this guy to the locker room and jump his bones - is dowsed. Completely extinguished with the thought of my reality.
The single mom life, the dependant boss, and successful business owner.
It wasn’t a lot but it was mine, especially at the minute as I powered on my phone to find a dozen missed calls from my staff.
“Are you leaving already?”
“Unfortunately my gym visits seem to be getting shorter and shorter these days.”
“Oh. Well, maybe I’ll see you around?”
While I smiled and nodded before turning to walk off, I couldn’t help but wish he hadn’t opened his mouth. Like what was even the point of that piss poor conversation. If you could even call it that.
