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Authors: Karla Doyle

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Body of Work

BOOK: Body of Work
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Body of Work

Karla Doyle

 

Cassie has fantasized about the ginger-haired personal trainer for months. Brian is friendly, but never more—until he appears on her doorstep and shows her how much her flirting has affected him. The more she’s with him, the more Cassie wants the fairytale, not just hot sex with the six-two hunk. She can give Brian full access to her body, but after her ex’s reaction to her explicit photography business, sharing her secrets, and her heart, isn’t an option.

Brian knows better than to break the rules. Don’t date gym members. Keep his inner beast on a leash during sex. Cassie tested his resolve on number one her first day in the gym. Shattered the second rule when he touched her. The petite pixie shares his preferences in the bedroom. She makes him laugh and love—but past mistakes haunt him, emotionally and tangibly. Cassie’s worth the price he’ll pay for breaking the rules. Now he must convince her to give him her heart.

 

A Romantica®
contemporary erotic romance
from Ellora’s Cave

Body of Work
Karla Doyle

Dedication

 

For my love…whom I met at the gym.

And for Amanda—I’d be lost without you. Truly. (Now stop worrying about the tire!)

Big hugs to Andie, Lisa, Tristina & Grace. Your endless support & insightfulness mean the world to me.

 

Chapter One

 

“You’ve been getting later and later.” Brian’s face appeared from behind the bench to smile down at her. “This is the third night this week you’re closing the place.”

“Is it?” As if she didn’t know. Hitting the gym at 11:00 p.m. was playing havoc with Cassie’s sleep. Between the adrenaline rush from weight training and the pheromone rush from tracking Brian as he worked, she tossed and turned for at least an hour after she got home. No amount of toy time took the edge off.

She pressed the bar up and would have set it on the rack, but Brian shook his head and held up two fingers.

“Two more.”

“Slave driver.”

“Nah, just keeping you from slacking. Come on, show me what you’ve got.”

If only he were referring to her naked body writhing on top of him instead of her quaking muscles as she committed every ounce of energy into pushing the barbell up from her chest.

“Done. I can’t do another one.”

Brian’s hands covered hers on the bar, blocking her from quitting. Also, setting off a riot of naughty thoughts about what they could do on this weight bench. Thank god her face was already beet-red from the workout.

“You can, I’ll spot you.”

“Check my membership—I’m not paying for personal training.”

“No charge for my services tonight.”

In that case, she had a list of services she’d like to add to her tab. Sweaty, naked services that did not involve this barbell. “Fine.” She inhaled while lowering the bar for what felt like the fifty-fifth repetition, rather than the twelfth. Halfway, that’s all she had left. She quit mid-descent and started the upward motion.

Brian shook his head again. “No stopping. I want you to go all the way down.”

A giant snort burst out. “How am I supposed to focus on my form when you’re talking dirty to me?” The barbell dropped to her chest, whooshing all the precious oxygen from her lungs. Any chance she had of completing the last rep was officially dead. “Help?” She batted her eyelashes exaggeratedly, making him laugh. It wasn’t the smoldering expression of passion she fantasized about, but he had a great laugh and an amazing smile, both of which were currently directed at her, so she’d take it. His hands gripped the bar on either side of her breasts, his fingers grazing her spandex-covered torso. Covered with sweat, yet she shivered. Good lord, could she get any more desperate for him?

His fingers twitched and something flickered in his blue eyes. “I’m tempted to keep you pinned there awhile.”

He what? She stared up at him, but whatever she’d seen in his eyes disappeared quickly enough to make her question whether she’d seen it at all.

“But since it’s closing time, I’ll let you go.” He plucked up the barbell she’d practically killed herself to press and returned it to the stand.

What she wouldn’t give to see Brian bare-chested, to watch all those muscles flexing and rippling without a t-shirt hindering her view. If he was fully naked and poised over top of her, ready to fuck her with all that power, so much the better.

“Catch your breath yet?”

She blinked. Blinked again. Yup, he was still there, big hands curled over the bar, grinning down at her. Oh god, her fingers were this-freaking-close to her nipples. Another thirty seconds and she probably would’ve been stroking them.

“I’m good, thanks.” She scrambled from the bench, tripping over her feet as she walked to the nearest station for a bottle of spray cleaner and a rag. A little friendly attention and she’d become a bumbling, hot-and-bothered mess. She needed to give up the futile flirtation attempts she’d repeatedly thrown his way for the past several months. Find an attainable guy, hustle him into her empty bed and ride him until she didn’t get mental images of Brian Black every time she closed her eyes. Call that tomorrow’s plan. That, and hitting the gym when Brian
wasn’t
here, instead of essentially stalking him at his workplace five times a week.

She grabbed the sanitizer and turned, shrieking when she face-planted into a wide expanse of chest. “Geez, you need bells on your shoes or something.” She looked up, then up some more until she got to his face. A tidy, super-short ginger beard and mustache framed sensual pink lips. Did the man ever
not
look delicious? Much more of this innocent contact and she might not make it out of the building before giving in to her body’s aching demands. A quickie in the ladies’ locker room—solo edition.

“I spoke to you twice. I guess you didn’t hear me.”

Hence his smirk. They were alone in the gym and he’d been a dozen feet away, max. Once again, he’d caught her daydreaming—this time at midnight.

“Just calculating how quickly I can de-sweatify that bench and get out of your way. I’m sure you’re sick of being polite when I keep holding you up at closing time. Especially on a Friday.”

“I’m not being polite. And I don’t mind staying late if you’re the reason.” He relieved her of the cleaning products, but didn’t release her hands in the process. Not only were they hostage beneath his strong, rough palms, his thumb was brushing back and forth over her skin.

That couldn’t be accidental, right?

Holy crap, holy crap, holy freaking crap. All the times she’d joked around with him, tossed out the innuendos, outright told him how hot he was…he’d always seemed amused, heck, he came back for more, day after day, but not once had he returned the sentiment. But this, now? If only he’d
say
something…

“I have to wipe everything down anyway, so don’t worry about the bench.”

Okay, not quite the something she’d hoped for. Because she’d foolishly let her imagination get the jump on reality. The touch wasn’t a caress, duh. He was being his super-friendly self and offering to clean her equipment, nothing more. Probably so he could get out of here faster. Go hook up with a date or something. Ugh.

“I’ll hit the change room and leave you to it, then.”

He let her fingers slide free. “Sure.”

The perma-smile she couldn’t get enough of—gone. Not that she blamed him. The gym had officially closed five minutes ago. By rights, he should’ve kicked her out the door already. Instead, he’d allowed her to finish her routine. Her way of thanking him for that—drooling all over herself while staring at him with what had to be moony eyes. Time she took a hint and stopped pinging the poor guy with lame come-on attempts.

“I’ll be quick. Just because gym time is the highlight of my day doesn’t give me an excuse to hold you up more than I have. I’m sure you have something much more exciting to do when you leave here.”

“Take your time.”

“Thanks, but I’ll hurry.” No reason to prolong the agony.

Inside the locker room, she groaned and pressed her back against the lockers. Her reflection stared back at her from across the room. She wasn’t the hottest female at the gym, but she wasn’t too shabby. She’d had a decent—yet respectable—amount of boyfriends and lovers, several of whom had told her she was beautiful. Beautiful might be a stretch since she didn’t have the long hair, long legs or big boobs most men preferred, but if she appraised herself honestly, she was pretty enough. Good skin and an athletically trim figure. She’d give herself a solid seven-point-five out of ten. Maybe not in Brian’s league, but taking a stab at him—or more accurately, several dozen stabs—had been worth the attempt. Sometimes über-hot guys went for the more ordinary girls. It happened all the time in the movies and romance novels—there had to be real-life examples.

Just not where Brian was concerned. She dropped onto the bench with a sigh. His recent arm candy included a stunning blonde with massive boobs who
did
qualify as beautiful. One of his ex-girlfriends was a hard-bodied fitness pageant competitor whose legs went higher than Cassie’s nipples. The list didn’t get any less extraordinary. Yes, she’d used a variety of investigative techniques to acquire this information. And yes, she’d been a moron to think she could be next in line. Attempt made, defeat acknowledged.

She stripped off her tank and bike shorts. A shower would be great, but she certainly wasn’t taking the time for one now. Blotting the perspiration from her skin didn’t make it less sticky or easier to wrestle the baby-doll tee and short denim skirt into place. Crap, she’d been in here almost ten minutes already.

Beyond the locker room door, the loud whir of heavy-duty machinery kicked on. She stuffed her workout gear into her backpack, scooped up her purse and cracked the door a couple of inches. Perfect timing. Brian was across the gym, pushing a huge-ass industrial vacuum around the weight room. Plenty of distance and noise to prevent more awkward conversation. She threw up one arm in a goodbye wave, tucked her chin to her chest and hightailed it the heck out of there.

* * * * *

 

Brian rolled to a stop on Sloane Street. He killed the engine and stared through the rain-covered window of his Jeep at the white bungalow. If he did this, if he knocked on Cassie’s door at a quarter to one in the morning, there’d be no going back.

A man could only take so much. The petite brunette had caught his eye from day one. She’d been torturing him for months—chatting, teasing him with comments that made
her
blush, openly flirting with him while she exercised. He’d have made his move immediately if not for his stupid contract.

Which led him back to the decision at hand—to knock on her door or drive away?

He scooped the cell phone from the passenger seat. Weighed it in his palm and took another glance at her house. Light escaped around the edges of her closed curtains. If he didn’t grab this opportunity, the odds of him getting another like it were slim. Fuck it, he was going for it.

Still raining and no sign it planned to let up. The drops cooled his skin, not the fire churning in his gut. He made short work of the distance to her door, each long step knotting his insides a little more. Yeah, he was nuts to do this. Nuts and committed to seeing it through. Worst-case scenario, she’d tell his boss and he’d get fired. Yeah, that’d suck—on multiple levels. He stopped a couple inches shy of the doorbell. Looked at the pink-covered phone in his hand and considered its owner. Her eyes, her smile, her body. The way everything inside him came alive when she laughed with him at the stupidest thing. Totally worth the risk.

He swallowed hard at the muted sound of the chime. Resisted the urge to press his face to the glass and look through the small window in her front door. Twenty seconds later, he rang again. Maybe she hadn’t heard it. Or maybe she was hiding in a corner, waiting for him to leave. Another minute and he’d assume the second and haul his ass back to the car.

The outside lamp came on. Cassie’s eyes popped into view in the lower portion of the window. They locked with his, instantly changing from a cautious squint to wide with surprise. The tip of her nose appeared, then her top lip. She had to be standing on her toes now. The rest of her mouth followed, curled in a smile. That’s all it took—he was a goner for the thousandth time.

BOOK: Body of Work
6.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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