“He’s waiting for me at the meeting location,” Kian replied. His voice was casual, almost bored, but his body told a different story. There was a tightness in his shoulders, a coiled readiness beneath the smooth exterior that I was beginning to recognize.
We stepped outside into the brilliance of the morning. The sun wasalready high, bathing the property in golden light, and the thick summer air wrapped around us with the promise of another beautiful day.
His car waited, sleek and immaculate, and Kian moved ahead of me to open the passenger door, one arm lifting with effortless strength. The motion drew my attention to the way his bicep flexed beneath the light fabric of his suit, the material stretching just enough to make my pulse stutter.
“How do you stay in shape?” I blurted before I could stop myself. “I never see you work out.”
He tapped my butt lightly, ushering me into the passenger seat. “That’s because you’re sleeping when I’m at the gym.”
He shut the door and rounded the front of the car, sliding smoothly into the driver’s seat. As the engine roared to life, I picked up right where I’d left off.
“You drive out to the gym while I’m sleeping?” I questioned. I tried—and failed—to picture him surrounded by clanking weights, mirrors, and crowds of sweating bodies. The image refused to settle.
Then another, far more unsettling one took its place.
A room filled with fit women. Very fit women. Stretching and smiling. Paying far too much attention to him.
I stiffened in my seat.
Shit. Maybe I need to start working out too.
“No,” he said easily, leaving his property and pulling out into traffic. “I have a home gym.”
Pfft. Thank God. I hated working out with a passion and had zero interest in competing with impossibly toned strangers before breakfast.
“I don’t remember seeing it during my tour,” I remarked, glancing his way. Not that it mattered. I didn’t really care where the heck it was; I’d never be seeing it anyway.
“It’s on the roof.”
“Hmm, that’s different,” I muttered, my interest already dwindling.
“Want me to show you?” he asked, eyes fixed on the road as the city blurred past us.
I turned my head, studying his profile. Damn. The man wasunfairly gorgeous—strong jaw, relaxed confidence, that quiet masculinity that didn’t need to announce itself. The whole damn package.
How would I ever move on from this?
The thought hit me out of nowhere, knocking the air from my lungs. Move on? From him?
My body went still, my chest tightening as unease crept in. I frowned and shook my head slightly, as if I could physically dislodge the idea. This was just incredible sex. Mind-blowing, toe-curling sex that blurred boundaries and messed with common sense. That was all.
Yet, it didn’t feel like it at all.
Something deeper hummed beneath the surface, something I didn’t want to name.
“Sophie?”
I blinked, dragged back into the moment. Right. The gym.
I forced a smile, leaning back in my seat.
“Yeah. I’d love to see where you work out.” My lips curved with mischief. “Maybe I’ll even come watch you sweat. You know, like my own personal porno.”
He snorted softly, glancing at me from the corner of his eye.
“But,” I added, wagging a finger, “it has to be in the evenings. I refuse to wake up at some ungodly hour just to watch you lift heavy things.”
He threw his head back and laughed, the sound making something inside me glow stupidly bright.
