Thrust (4 page)

I swallow hard from his words, now starting to feel flushed. I shake the top of my tank top. “It’s getting hot in here. Is the heat on or is it just me?”

Kyan laughs while standing up. “It’s just you, Calla.” He walks over to me and grabs my hand, helping me to my feet. “I’m also waiving your membership fee. It’s been a while since I’ve felt so . . .
giving.
” He turns behind him and reaches for a measuring tape. “Stand up straight.”

He stands directly in front of me, his body just inches from mine as he runs his hands down my arms, before lifting them. “Stay still while I take your measurements. Just relax your body.”

I nod my head, biting my bottom lip as I take notice of the goose bumps rising on my arms and legs as he carefully takes my measurements and marks them down. When finished, he hands me some kind of device to hold so that he can measure my body fat or something.

We both sit back down afterwards as he types up a bunch of information.

“You do wedding photography,” he states.”

I nod my head as I reply. “Yeah. I’ve been doing it since graduation.”

“Have you ever done any other kind of photography?” He watches me curiously, waiting for an answer.

“Well yeah. Nothing too different. A few birthday parties and one time I got asked to photograph a bachelorette party.” I lift an eyebrow at the memory. “That was pretty interesting.”

“I want you to photograph me.”

My head shoots up. “What do you mean? Are you getting married or . . . ?”

I let the question hang in the air while he stands up and walks around the desk, stopping at the front. Leaning against it, he crosses his thick arms and looks down at me. “No.” He lets out a small laugh. “One of my gym members is a local author and she asked me to be on her cover. I need someone to photograph the shoot.”

I catch myself checking out his body as I let his words sink in. The thought of us alone as I take his picture is oddly arousing. “Alright,” I say simply. “I can do that, but for free. I won’t let you pay me.”

“I won’t be,” he says. “The author pays for the shoot. She’s already given me all the details and ideas that she has in her head. She’s too busy to be there, so it will just be the two of us.”

“Okay. Yeah. We can shoot in my apartment.”

He shakes his head. “We’ll do it in mine.” He looks down at my tight clothing as I stand up. “And wear something comfortable. You might find yourself in some odd positions.”

I laugh a little at his choice of words. “I’m sure I have something.” I pause for a second while wondering if he’s going to assign me with a female or male trainer. I’m kind of hoping for a female so there’s less awkwardness. “What’s my trainer’s name?”

“Kyan Wilder.” A smirk appears on his face as I watch him. “Come.”

I’d love to . . .

He opens the door and starts walking out, so I follow behind him. He stops to encourage a few men that seem to keep their eyes on me as we pass. We finally stop in front of another door and he opens it for me to walk in. The lights are already on, so he just closes the door behind us and
locks it.

Walking over to a small stereo, he turns it on and starts talking. “I’m going to begin with an easy workout to get you started. The last thing I want to do is scare you off on the first day.” He smiles at me and I swear one of his dimples melts me on the spot.

He steps up behind me and places his thumbs in between my shoulder blades, massaging my back. “Spread your legs a little,” he whispers in my ear. I do as he says. “Perfect.” His breath brushes my neck, causing a shiver to run up my spine. “Do twenty squats. Keep your shoulders straight.”

I face toward the wall of mirrors and do as he says. I can’t help but to notice him biting his bottom lip as he watches me. It’s almost as if he’s tasting me with his intense stare.

“Watch yourself when you move, Calla, not me. See how you control your body.”

I pull my eyes away from him and watch myself in the mirror, feeling slightly hot from the way he demands control.

He takes me through four different exercises, doing counts of twenty each, three different times, before he switches it up and ends it with jumping rope for five minutes and holding a plank for one minute.

By the time he is done with me I’m covered in sweat and my legs are so wobbly that I feel like I’m going to walk into a wall and smash my face into the mirror.
What a sight that would be . . .

I’m standing here, trying to catch my breath, when Kyan appears in front of me with a water bottle. “Drink.”

I grab it from him and begin to drink it. I notice him watching me with a smile when I pull the bottle away. Yes I’m aware of the water that is covering the front of my face and chest, but is it polite to make it known that you notice? I just worked my ass off. I’m hot.

With a confidence in his step, he closes the distance between us and grabs the back of my neck, looking down into my eyes. “You look beyond sexy when you’re wet, Calla. I would love to lick every last drop of water from your body.” He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and hovers his mouth above mine. “Are you free tomorrow for the shoot?”

Fighting to catch my breath and not fall over, I shake my head. “No. I have a gig tomorrow. I’m not free till Monday.”

“Perfect,” he says. “I’ll see you then.”

Then, just like that, he unlocks the door and walks away, leaving me breathless and desiring his touch.

Stupid gym bag guy . . .

I HAD TO WALK AWAY when I did. I was more than tempted to kiss her and lick the mixture of water and sweat from her neck and breasts. I can’t do that yet, not until I know that she’s willing to keep things solely on a sexual level. I want to please her . . . not hurt her. Until then, I’ll keep my hands off of her beautiful body.

Mitch, one of my personal trainers, comes into my office as I’m closing down my computer and grabbing for my things. He watches me carefully before speaking. “Are you done for the day?”

I look up as I shove Calla’s paperwork into my bag. “Yeah. I think you and Erica have it. You have three employees coming in at noon and another three at four. You know where to reach me.”

He follows me out of my office as I close it behind me and lock it. “Were you doing personal training back there?”

“Yeah.” My eyes linger toward the back room to see Calla walking through the gym, checking out the equipment. I feel bad for not taking the time to show her around, but I can’t be around her too much until I can touch her. It’s too painful, physically.

“You don’t do personal training,” Mitch says with a lopsided grin. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take over?”

I stop walking and look him straight in the eyes. “No. She’s my first and only client. Don’t question my decisions.”

He takes a step back. “Sorry, boss. I didn’t mean any harm. Just trying to be friendly.”

I let out a grunt and walk away.
Friendly my ass. You want to fuck her just like I do.
The difference in him and I is that I am willing to pleasure her in ways that this young dick hasn’t even had a chance to learn. I fuck for her pleasure. That’s what drives me. This fucker is nineteen and has slept with half of his trainees, only being sure to get himself off I’m sure.

Setting my Harley in my sights, I secure my bag, before mounting her and pulling my helmet on. A nice, long ride is what I need right now before I find myself standing outside of her door, rock hard, and ready to hold her on my shoulders so she can mount my face.

The way her pussy looked in those tight little yoga pants didn’t get past me, and I could smell her body as she started to sweat. That beautiful place between her legs was wet all right, and I have a feeling that it wasn’t only due to her workout.

Monday . . . I’m going to have her taste all over me.

I STILL CAN’T GET OVER my workout session with Kyan on Saturday. His amber eyes watched me as if he wanted to taste me and I loved the way his sexy lips spoke to me. His voice is so strong and seductive.
Doesn’t he realize what he does to a woman?

I haven’t seen or spoken to him since. My phone goes off and a text from an unknown number comes through; maybe that’s about to change. The words make it clear that Kyan has taken down my number from the front desk. You would think that in an upscale building like this they would be stricter on the privacy of their tenants.

Kyan: I’ll see you in 3 hours. Apartment 1020. Wear something comfortable or nothing at all. ;)

I stare at my phone for a second before responding. I said I was free to photograph today. How does he know I’m not busy for the next four or five hours? He’s demanding, and oddly I find it refreshing and sexy.

Me: Very funny. I’ll definitely be wearing something . . . and I may or may not be free at seven. You’ll know if I show up.

I get an immediate response as if he was already typing out his message before I even replied.

Kyan: I’ve got everything you need. Just bring your camera.

Not bothering to respond, I smile to myself as I set my phone down on the living room floor and continue to unpack the box I’m working on. He’s so certain that I’m showing up, so there is use in fighting it. Three hours will give me enough time to finish unpacking, eat, and take a quick shower.

Tori and I spent most of yesterday at the
Miller Wedding,
but came home late and got a lot of unpacking done. Luckily, we’re down to about four more boxes. Thank goodness!

“Hey woman!” I yell.

Something comes flying at me from the kitchen. “Do you really have to yell? I’m like ten feet away.”

I look beside me at the spatula now lying on the floor. I pick it up and toss it back in the kitchen. “I’m starving. What do you want to do for dinner tonight? We can go downstairs to the bar. The food smelt pretty good when I went there on Friday night.”

“Sounds good to me. I just want some really good chicken wings. I don’t really care where they’re from.”

I pull the last DVD from the box and shove it onto the shelf. “Mmm. That sounds really good right now.” I push the empty box aside and go to join Tori in the kitchen. “What’s left in here? If I don’t eat within the next hour I will cry. I’m that hungry.”

Reaching above her to place some plates in the cabinet, she tilts her head back and turns it to the left of her. “That box right there. It’s full of all the stupid pans. That’s the last box for the kitchen.”