“Same as yesterday. Heading to write with Cole after lunch.”
He nodded. “Good,” he said, closing his laptop and standing up. “Go get changed. We’re gonna workout.”
My entire face contorted like a crumpled-up piece of paper at his suggestion. It was too damn early. “I really don’t wanna workout.”
“Too bad,” he called over his shoulder as he walked to his room. “Doing it anyway. Then we’re going to work on some advanced self-defense moves.”
I grumbled for about thirty seconds until it registered that I’d get to wrestle with the big guy. Now that could be fun.
I got up and made my way to my room. As I reached his closed door, I threw out a little taunt.
“I was a star wrestler in high school, so you’re gonna be in trouble, He-Man. I’m gonna take your southern ass down!”
I wasn’t. It was a big ass lie.
The laughter coming from inside his room made me smile.
“It’s cute you think that’s what we’re gonna be doing.”
Before I could walk away, the door swung open. He-Man stood in the doorway wearing track pants that clung to his body and a performance shirt that molded to every ridge and valley of his torso like a second skin.
I lifted my hand to touch his chest but caught myself before I made contact. What the fuck was wrong with me?
Maybe he didn’t notice.
He-Man held me in place with his stare, then fixed me with the sexiest grin I’d ever seen. I stepped back, and he followed until my back was against the wall.
Bracing his hands beside my head, he leaned in close enough for the heat radiating from his body and the scent of his aftershave to wreck my senses.
“C’mon, Rockstar. My southern ass is waitin’ on you,” he said as he walked away, giving me a glimpse of said fine ass as the first genuine smile I hadn’t felt in a while crossed my face.
This was going to be fun.
* * *
Boy,was I wrong.
After He-Man had shown me some moves that were effective in warding off an attacker, he wanted to practice them. I took him down after the second try, but then he was on me.
“Tell me about Jake Malone.”
My brows furrowed as He-Man held me down on the floor. Well, not the floor, but the padded mats. It’s funny how he thought I could think coherently with him panting and breathing on me like he was.
“Why do you want to know about him? I already told you the notes are from my mother.” I grunted, trying to wiggle out from under him. This was exhausting.
I’d fantasized about the fun we could have rolling around on the floor, him holding me down, and having his dirty way with me. So much so that I’d already jerked off twice this morning.
But this was not the fun I’d imagined.
This was annoying as fuck.
“So you say, but he’s on the list, wrestling star. It’s amazing theWWEhasn’t contacted you about putting you on tour.”
He was obviously taunting me, but I knew what he was doing.
“And Rockstar, my southern ass is still waiting for you to show me something.”
All the wiggling and moving I tried got me exactly nowhere. I was still facedown on the floor while the smartass straddled me, and every time he leaned over to whisper another taunt, I felt what it would be like to have his body pressed along mine. The ridge of his semi was nestled into the groove between my cheeks.
