Out eyes linger on each other’s for an extended moment.
I point to the weight bench behind me with my thumb. “I better get back to it.”
“Okay.” She smiles again. “Thanks again, Brock.”
Damn it, I don’t want to get back to it at all. I want to stand there and listen to her husky voice and imagine it saying filthy, perverted things to me. I walk back over to the weights and begin a set of arm curls. My workout should be over by now, but fuck it, why not stay here and admire the scenery? Can’t hurt, can it?
We both continue to exercise in silence for another half an hour, our eyes intermittently flicking to each other. I can tell she’s into me.
Fuck it, I’m just going to ask her out. This is so not my usual form, but she’s seriously gorgeous. She’s back on the treadmill again now, running before she finishes, no doubt. I’ll go and get on the rowing machine next to her and ease into the conversation from there.
I take my position on the rowing machine and begin to move. I can feel her eyes on my back.
My legs straighten as I row harder and harder, and perspiration begins to run down my face. Should I just ask her on a date or should I make it more casual and suggest we go for a drink now? Hmm, it’s Tuesday night. She probably has work tomorrow. I can feel her watching me, so I really give it to the rowing machine. Suddenly, the rope of the rowing machine breaks and I fly backwards and hit the wall. A piece of the rope breaks away and it flies onto her treadmill, making her trip and fall spectacularly to the floor.
“H-holy shit,” I stammer as I jump up.
“Ouch,” she hisses.
“Oh my God, are you all right?” I ask. I grab her two hands and pull her from the floor.
“Not really.” She rubs her hands over her thighs in embarrassment.
I look down to see her knee has a deep burn from the treadmill belt and blood is running down her shin. I point to her leg. “You’re bleeding.”
She looks down at her leg and frowns. “Great.” She puts her hands on her hips and glares at me. “This is all your fault.”
“My fault?” I say, surprised.
“Yes. You’re fault. If you weren’t showing off and trying to be Superman, this wouldn’t have happened. You broke the rowing machine cord by being stupid.”
I put my hands on my hips. “I wasn’t showing off,” I snap. “It was obviously faulty.”
“Oh, that’s crap and you know it.”
“I’m telling you right now, I wasn’t showing off. I train hard.”
“I train hard,” she mimics.
I begin to get ticked off. “Obviously, Tully Pocket, you were always the child who got angry and blamed other children whenever she got hurt.”
She rolls her eyes, unimpressed. “Well, obviously you were the child who was always trying too hard to be a superhero.”
“Trying too hard?” I interrupt her. “I’m not fucking trying at all.”
She raises her eyebrows, annoyed. “Whatever.” She storms off towards the bathroom.
Did she just whatever me?
Nobody whatevers me.
I pace back and forth for a few minutes until I can’t take it any longer, and I storm up the hall towards the bathrooms. There are four doors. All of them are unisex and all fitted with a shower and a toilet. Each door is now closed, and I have no idea which one she is in.
“Tully,” I call.
No answer.
“Tully Pocket!” I call.
“What?” she snaps through the farthest door. “Go away. You’re annoying.”
I take it back, this woman isn’t hot, she’s fucking obnoxious. I open the door and find her sitting on the floor with a wet tissue, trying to wipe up the blood on her leg. I sink to my knee beside her.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She shrugs but stays silent.
Empathy wins, and I do feel bad. “Here, let me clean you up.” I stand and put my hands on her hips, lifting her to sit on top of the basin.
She stays silent as I inspect her knee. “It’s deep,” I say softly.
She nods.
My eyes rise to meet hers, and I’m suddenly aware that we are alone in a small space. I bite my lip and turn my attention back to her leg. “I’m going to get the first aid box. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
I go to the office and retrieve the small, red first aid box, and I return to the hall. I stand outside the door for a moment.
Just fix her leg and go home.
I open the door and find her sitting up on the counter where I left her. She smiles softly as she runs her hand through her hair, her anger clearly now replaced with embarrassment. “Sorry,” she whispers. “I’m flustered.”
My eyes hold hers for a moment. I put the kit down, open it up, and get the saline out, snapping the little pod open. “This might sting a bit.” I begin to pour it on her graze and she hisses, involuntarily grabbing my shoulder. Her touch feels good and I inhale through my nose. This is not the time for sexual thoughts, you dirty bastard. Keep your mind on the job. Band-Aid application, fool.
I wipe up the excess blood as she watches on in silence. Her hand is still on my shoulder and I can feel the heat burning me through my shirt from her touch. I slide my hand up her calf to lift her leg, and goose bumps scatter her skin.
I feel my cock twitch in appreciation and I have to grit my teeth. Not fucking now.
The energy in the room begins to swirl between us and my eyes rise to meet hers.
“Does it hurt?” I ask softly.
She nods, and I know she can feel the electricity between us, too.
“I’ll put the Band-Aid on and you’ll be as good as new,” I tell her, distracted.
She smiles softly and nods again. “Thank you.”
She watches on as I carefully apply two bandages and I slide my hand down her calf muscle one more time. Goose bumps scatter again, and my eyes rise to meet hers.
“Goose bumps?” I ask.
She swallows the lump in her throat as her eyes hold mine.
The air crackles between us and my eyes drop to her parted lips. Large, pink, and so fucking hot.
“What are you thinking?” she whispers up at me.
My mouth opens to speak but no words come out. My chest rises as I try to contain my arousal. This is ridiculous. Unable to help it, I reach down and put my thumb just under her bottom lip and pull her mouth open so that her lips part. “You want to know what I’m thinking, Pocket?” I whisper.
She nods, her mouth is open with my thumb resting on her bottom lip.
“I’m imagining how you’ll look with my cock in your mouth.”
Tully
My eyes widen and my heart begins to race.
What the fuck? Did he really just say that out loud? His thumb is resting on my bottom lip.
I pull away from his thumb, and I run my tongue over the burning spot from his touch. “I’m not the type of girl you think I am,” I tell him. “In fact, I’m offended by the insinuation that you think I’m a slut.”
A trace of a smile crosses his face. “Is that so?” He pulls back from me and turns his attention back to my knee.
“That is so,” I snap.
“Forgive me.” His eyes come back up to meet mine. “I’m not normally like this, but you…” His voice trails off.
But I what? What was he going to say?
His large frame takes over the room. His jaw is square, his eyes are dark, and goddamn it if he isn’t the most handsome man I’ve seen in my life. He looks down at me, electricity buzzing between us.