Body of Work (6 page)

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Authors: Karla Doyle

Tags: #erotica

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“Where’d you leave your amazing smile?” Sam appeared at the high end of the crunch bench. Shaved head, sparkling eyes, nice teeth. His black tank stretched across a fine chest, nicely rounded muscles popped along his shoulders and down his arms. A light sheen of sweat gave his tanned skin an irresistible glow. He could’ve stepped out of a muscle magazine, he looked that good. And he seemed like a nice guy, beyond his flirtatious nature.

“Because if
you’re
not smiling, there’s no hope for the rest of us schmucks,” he said as she finished her fifteenth crunch and grabbed the bar holding her feet in place.

“There’s always hope. I’m just distracted today. I’ll bring my smile next time, promise.” She swung her legs down and stood in front of him. “Are you and Brian really going to spar?”

Sam gave one of his easygoing laughs. “Hell no, I’m not putting on gloves against him today.”

“So he
was
kidding around. I couldn’t tell for a few minutes there.”

“Oh, he was serious.” He winked. “I’m just not stupid.”

Ah. Apparently Sam got his kicks from stirring the pot. Why didn’t that surprise her? “Okay, well, I’m headed to the cable machine.”

“Me too,” Sam said, falling beside her.

Coincidence? No, she’d bet her grocery budget that Sam was still in shit-disturber mode. Surely Brian would’ve clued in to that by now. She clipped a rope to the cable for triceps press-downs. Straight ahead of her, Sam jumped, grabbed the stationary wide-grip bar and pulled himself up until his chin reached the bar. He controlled his descent and repeated the move, again and again. When he’d finished—after god knows how many reps, she’d certainly lost count—she was still standing there with the rope in her hands, not a single repetition achieved. Worse, Sam had caught her staring. Much worse, so had Brian, from where he now stood, half a dozen feet away.

She smiled at both men, her eyes lingering on Brian. “Maybe one day I’ll be able to do those.”

“I bet you can now.” Sam crooked his finger at her. “Come here and give it a try.”

“Oh, I don’t think so…I doubt I could even reach the bar using the step box.”

“I’ll give you a boost,” Brian and Sam said in perfect sync. Crinkles formed at the corners of Sam’s hazel eyes. Darts shot from Brian’s blue ones.

Wow. The testosterone level in the area might’ve blown the roof off if they weren’t in an industrial building with thirty-foot ceilings.

“You’re not working today. Leave helping the members to me.”

This whole situation seemed to be amusing the crap out of Sam, who grinned and nodded toward the front of the gym. “Exactly what I was thinking. You have two people waiting at the counter, you’d better go make some protein shakes.” After a glare from Brian that would’ve left most people quaking in their cross-trainers, Sam simply chuckled. “C’mere, Cassie. I’ll give you that boost.” As soon as Sam reached for her, connected with her elbow, Brian disappeared.

“I really don’t think I can do this.” And she wasn’t just referring to the pull-ups. Innocent as it was, ridiculous as it was, having Sam’s hands on her body felt—wrong.

“Sure you can. Hands up, ready and…grab it.”

“Oh my god.” Arms shoulder width apart, she dangled. “Now what?”

“Now pull yourself up.”

“That simple, huh?” Heat spread through her shoulders, back and biceps as she attempted to defy gravity. “It’s too hard.”

“Bullshit. You can’t weigh more than a buck-fifteen and you’re in here five days a week, working the weights. Pull yourself up.”

She gave it everything she had, her upper body shuddering more with each inch she gained. Her muscles screamed at her to quit. She didn’t. One—she had to do at least one.

Below her, Sam clapped. “Almost there, keep going.”

She gritted her teeth. Pulled. Saw the white bar before her eyes. “I did it, oh my god, I did it.”

“Great, now slowly drop down three-quarters of the way, then do it again.”

The only words her muscles registered were
drop down
. Not the slowly part. Definitely not the do-it-again part. She hit the rubberized floor with a thud, knocking the box over and turning on her ankle in a monumental display of graceless spaziness.

“Crap.” Stronger words sprang to mind, but she bit her tongue while hopping about, trying to shake off the throbbing above her ankle bone.

Sam’s hand curled around her waist. “Quite the dismount.”

“You okay?” This from Brian, who suddenly loomed over them, eyes darting back and forth over their faces, then down to where Sam’s arm disappeared behind her back.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine after I ice it. Think I’m done for today, though.”

“I’ll help you to the locker room,” Sam said.

Brian’s face turned ruddy, his mouth a thin, straight line. “I think you’ve helped her enough.”

“And I think you should check who’s standing by the front desk and get back to it.”

There went the testosterone again. And again, Sam won by pulling the work card.

“It’s okay, I can walk on it.” She tried disentangling from Sam and failed. He urged her along, away from Brian, supporting her as she hobbled. He even waited while she retrieved her bag from the locker room, then insisted on accompanying her to the front, where Brian stood beside a dark-haired guy in a Hilfiger golf shirt that probably cost as much as she spent on groceries in a week.

She knew the type—the kind of man who liked impressing people. If the overpriced shirt didn’t give that away, his phony smile, thick gold chain and two chunky gold-and-diamond rings sure did. She preferred Brian in his navy work t-shirt any day.

Mr. Slick extended his hand. “Trevor Ritchie, owner and general manager. Brian tells me you fell from a piece of equipment and hurt your foot.”

Oh, nice. Thanks a lot, Brian, for making her sound like some twit who didn’t know her way around a gym. She got it, though. He was simply protecting his employer, and possibly his job. For him, she’d go along with the ditzy-woman-at-gym thing.

“Like I told these two, I’m fine. I was in awe of Sam’s pull-ups, so he helped me up and cheered me on. The fall was entirely my fault.”

The owner leaned back against the counter. Stuck his hands in his pockets. She had no desire to look at this guy’s crotch, but her eyes were drawn to the steady movement beside his fly.
Please god, let him be playing with his car keys in there.

“Sounds like you might enjoy some personal training.”

She caught Brian’s eye and smiled. “I was actually thinking that this morning.”

“Then it’s settled. I’ll credit your membership with five sessions, on the house.”

The offer was clearly a bribe of some sort, but her budget-minded side didn’t care. Five sessions, no charge—not turning that offer down. “Thank you, I can’t wait to take full advantage of one of your trainers.”

Behind her, Sam laughed out loud, as was his way. “Sign me up for that job.”

In front of her, Brian snorted. “I think one pull-up with you was probably enough for her, Sam.”

Trevor ignored their subtle battle, his attention staying on her. “We have three other personal trainers, one of whom is a woman, if that’s your preference, Ms…?”

“Johnson. Cassie. Actually, I’d prefer Brian. We’ve gotten to know each other some. Having him train me seems like the natural next step.”

Brian’s mouth ticked up, just a bit. Was he thinking of last night too? Inside the spandex tank her nipples tightened, the tingling sensation spreading lower and settling insistently between her legs. Last night, they’d gotten to know each other a whole lot better. He’d trained her how he liked his cock sucked—hands-free, until every hot, thick inch of it was deep in her throat. What would he train her to do tonight?

“All the ladies want Brian.” Trevor’s smirk gave her the crawlies. He raised an eyebrow at the man she’d chosen. “Do you have time in your schedule for a few sessions with Cassie?”

All business, Brian stepped behind the counter to the computer. “Let me check.” A couple of clicks later, he said, “I’ve got some slots open that might mesh with your usual workout schedule.”

She limped to the customer side of the steel-and-black counter, leaned on the high-gloss top and pulled out her phone. She swiped her finger across the screen and tapped the numeric pad that popped up, winking as he watched. “Passcode. Proud of me?”

“Always a good idea.”

God, that smile. She countered with one of her own that probably paled in comparison, then brought up her calendar app. “Okay, I’m ready for you.”

A low chuckle left his lips as he looked at his monitor. “Monday at three?”

“Nope. I have a portrait sitting booked in the afternoon.”

He scrolled and clicked. “How about at eight?”

“Another client.”

Blue eyes lifted, settling on her face. “Busy lady. Sounds like the portrait business is booming.”

“It gets me by.”

“I bet you’re being modest.”

“Not really.” More like skirting the truth. Portraits and light commercial work brought in enough to pay the bills, but she’d never get ahead if that’s all she did. The
other
stuff is what put money in her savings account, even if it held her back in the relationship column.

They settled on late Tuesday night for her first session. A crazy time to train by most people’s standards, but it’d give her time to wind down from her evening booking before what would undoubtedly be an hour of intense physical conditioning under Brian’s tutelage. Plus, the gym would be a ghost town by that time. Perfect, should her personal training take a more personal turn.

“Looking forward to it, Cassie. Anything else I can do for you today?”

He probably meant protein shakes and energy bars, but she couldn’t resist the opening. “Not now, but I’m looking forward to later.” Before he could answer, Trevor sidled up, brushing against her side in what felt like a deliberate act of contact.

“You roped Brian into coming back to the gym later? Workaholic, this guy. An easy job for him, though. You’re already in great shape.”

Goose bumps rose on every inch of skin Trevor touched—and not in a good way. If this was his normal behavior, ick. “Not compared to some of your members, but thanks.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, shortie.” Trevor lightly tweaked her waist. “I’m sure watching you train later won’t be a hardship.”

Talk about unprofessional. Owner of the gym or not, this guy needed to back off. Or be pushed off. “Brian’s not training me tonight, we have other plans, right?”

Brian stared. Trevor stared. From across the lobby, Sam stared. Metal clanked in the weight room, music drifted from the speakers and the phone rang on the wall. All of it faded until all Cassie heard was her own heartbeat.

Brian looked her square in the eye. “The only plans I have later are at my other job.”

She didn’t allow her jaw to drop. Wouldn’t, especially in front of a sleazeball like Trevor Ritchie. Instead she pulled it together. Waved her hand at Brian with an accompanying pfft. “Kidding, gotcha.” She dropped her phone into her bag and patted the side. “Wouldn’t want to lose that. You never know what kind of jerk might find it.” Brian’s mouth became a taut line. Bull’s eye. But she could still do better. “Sam, would you mind if I leaned on you out to the parking lot, my ankle’s kind of throbbing.”

Sam was at her side in two seconds. “My arm is your arm.”

 

Cassie walked out the door with Sam half draped around her, and there wasn’t a damn thing Brian could do about it. If Jacobs had a brain in that shiny, shaved head of his, he wouldn’t come back in today.

The oversized wall clock taunted him. Another half hour before his shift ended. More, if the three-to-closing person wandered in late. With it being a gorgeous Saturday afternoon in July, and his replacement being Traci, the odds of that ran pretty high. Fuck. He had to talk to Cassie. Needed to. Soon.

“I’d say Ms. Johnson has a crush on you.”

Add shit to that fuck. Now he got to deal with Trevor. “Nah, she’s just the joking-around, nice-to-everybody type.” No lie there.

“Know much about her?”

That she liked to be bitten, the harder the better. That she gave the most intense, enthusiastic head of his life. That her skin smelled like citrus mixed with soft female and her mouth tasted like heaven. “Not really, just casual stuff.”

“Do you know if she’s single?”

“No.”

Trevor smirked. “No, you don’t know, or no, she’s not single?”

Damn it. If Brian had taken two minutes to tell Cassie they had to play down their relationship while at Iron Works, none of this would have happened. Cassie wouldn’t think he was the world’s biggest jerk. His dick boss wouldn’t be nosing around Cassie’s profile on the computer.

“I don’t know.” He bristled as Trevor jotted Cassie’s home address and other personal information on a notepad. Phone numbers, email, birthday. A total violation of her privacy. Fuck. “But based on things she’s said, I suspect she has somebody in her life.” Him, if he hadn’t completely fucked everything up today. And even if he had, he’d still do whatever it took to shield her from his scumbag boss.

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