Facing away from me, she’s at the bench. One knee on, one hand on, the other foot on the floor. Her back is arched, and her black spandex-covered ass is pushed out in a dick-throbbing invitation.
Her elbow set firmly at her hip, she rocks her arm up and down in perfectly executed triceps curls. Her form-fitting tank top displays the long, lean muscles of her upper arm with each rep. Sweat glistens on her creamy skin, and the tiny grunts that seep from her pouty lips have me shifting in my shorts.
I’m suspended. Light-headed from the visual assault. The things I would do if she were mine. My eyes devour every inch of her body. I imagine myself creeping in behind her, digging my fingers into her hips as I grind myself against her ass to show her exactly what she does to me. It’d be so easy. Removing those tiny shorts to get to what’s underneath. All I’d have to do is bend her over—
“Oh my gosh, Blake! You scared the ever-loving shit out of me.” Her eyes are locked on mine through the floor-to-ceiling mirrors in front of her. She drops the weight and pushes herself up, placing a hand on her chest.
My gaze moves from her shocked face to her hand that is resting between her tits.
“Blake.” There’s scolding in the way she says my name, but I can’t pull my eyes away from her heaving breasts.
Her black workout top is cut in a low V. It must have some kind of push-up padding. Her breasts are pressed together to create the perfect valley that begs for my mouth.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” She drops her hand to place it on her cocked hip.
My eyes slide up the supple flesh of her neck, over her full pink lips, and stop at her glare.
“Ah, there he is.” She flashes a smile. “You finished?”
“Mouse, sweetheart, I haven’t even started.” I run my teeth along my lower lip, trying to ease the burn of wanting to be all over her.
She turns from the mirror toward me, her face stone. But her chest is rising and falling faster than it was when I walked in. Keeping my focus on her eyes, which is nearly impossible given her half-naked state, I prowl forward. Her breath quickens, so much so that her shoulders are moving along with her chest.
I move in close without touching. Her lips are parted, and her breath is coming in pants, sucking me in along with the air in the room. A light sheen of sweat on her skin intensifies her vanilla scent and sends my body into a raging state of arousal. If she so much as swayed toward me, she’d feel it. Fuck, I wish she would.
“Your workout? You haven’t started…” She tilts her chin up high to keep eye contact with me, and she stutters in her attempt to clarify my words.
Staying away from her was a mistake. Hanging out with her was like subjecting myself to poison little by little in order to build up an immunity. Instead of helping me, my avoiding her only made me more susceptible.
She’s irresistible in a way I’ve never felt before. Her draw is so intense that I notice every detail—every freckle, the delicate curve of her jawline, and the way her pulse thumps beneath the tender skin of her neck. My stomach clenches, and pressure builds between my legs.
“Blake?” Her voice hitches. The lust burning between us so palpable it’s scenting the air.
“Fuck.” I lick my lips. “I need to taste you.” Sliding my hand behind her neck, I sift my fingers into her hair below her loose ponytail.
The weight of her head falls into my hand as she gives herself over to me. With a pounding behind my ribs, I lean down while pulling her up. “One taste.” The desperate pleading in my voice sounds foreign in my ears.
I grip her hair. Her eyes flutter open, the brown so deep it’s hard to tell the difference between the iris and the pupil.
“Ask for it,” I demand and fight getting lost, drowning completely, in her lustful stare.
Her thick, dark lashes flutter as if they’re trying to stay open. “Ask?”
“Won’t do it without your permission, sweetheart.”
Something heavy flares in her eyes before she pushes it away. “Please.” Her plea is voiced on a whimper.
A jolt races up my spine. She’s begging, but I need to hear the words. “Please what, Mouse?”
“Kiss me.”
With fuckin’ pleasure.
I reach down and cup her ass, and a gasp of surprise seeps from her lips. Her palms lay flat against my chest, her fingers finding purchase in my shirt. Pulling her close, I slide my thigh between her legs. I flex my hips into the heat of her body. So fucking hot.
Taking her mouth in a slow caress, her soft lips ignite my craving. With a gentle pull from my grip on her hair, she tilts her head, allowing my control of the kiss. As much as I want to take over her mouth, to dominate her, I force myself to stay in control. I run my tongue along the seam of her mouth, a silent but unmistakable request. A moan rolls up from her throat and her lips part.
Here’s my taste. And what a fucking unbelievable taste it is.
Her wet mouth combined with the sweetness on her tongue explodes in my gut. I dig my fingers into her ass, pressing her down against my thigh. I know I’m pushing it, but it’s impossible to hold myself back. And fuck me, she grinds into me with her eager little body, rubbing her breasts against my chest and her inner thighs against mine. I suck her tongue deep, trying to consume all the sweet from her wet flesh like the starving man that I’ve been.
It’s not enough. I want more.
Our mouths move together, synchronized in perfect rhythm. Overcome, I nip at her lip, pulling with my teeth then soothing the ache with my tongue. Her hands slide down to dip beneath my shirt. She pushes her hands up, the soft skin of her palms skating along my abs to my chest, leaving behind a trail of goose bumps. Skin to skin, no barrier between us, she must feel my heart hammering.
My body roars to take her. To bury in deep and lose myself forever. But I promised her one taste. As much as I’d love to spend the next few days ravishing her body, showing her what it’s capable of feeling, I won’t take advantage.
Slowing the kiss, I suck at her lips before moving down her jawline. The fragrance of her skin concentrated below her ear sends a groan of need from my chest. She arches her neck, opening up to me. The combination of her sweet skin and the salt of her sweat makes me hunger to taste her everywhere. I lazily glide my lips from her collarbone to her ear, trailing the tip of my tongue along her pulse.
I can’t help pulling her earlobe between my teeth. “Fuckin’ hell, Mouse. You’ll be the death of me,” I whisper and rest my forehead against hers.
The room is quiet except for the sound of our heavy breathing. I hold her close, reluctant to let her go, knowing that this is my only chance to have her in this way. I close my eyes and absorb the feel of her body in my arms. She’s so small and breakable, I’m overcome with the need to protect her. But that’s not my job. She doesn’t belong to me and never will.
“Why now?”
Her question brings my head back and my eyes to hers.
“You’ve been avoiding me. So, why now?”
She deserves an answer. A really fucking good answer. Truth is, I’m a pussy.
I move my hand from her hair and cup her nape. “I want you. But I’m no good for you.”
Her head bobs. “I thought, the other night when I shared all that stuff, I thought I scared you off.”
“No. But the shit I felt when you opened up like that wasn’t right.” How do I explain my unhealthy attraction? The fact is that a woman alone in the world, with a kid, brings out a primal urge to protect. It’s the ugly leftover from my past. Years of taking care of my mom and little brother, and throwing myself up as a barrier between them and the General, made me a slave. And I’m nobody’s bitch. “You, Axelle, you girls deserve steady. I’ll never be that guy.”