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Authors: Katie Allen

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BOOK: One-Two Punch
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Beth just shook her head, not seeming to notice his bumbling information-gathering tactics. “No boyfriend,” she said, and Harry’s heart sped up. “Not unless you count my secret admirer.”

“What?” he asked, confused. For a second, he thought she was talking about him.

She shrugged, taking another drink of water. “Just some guy—at least I assume it’s a guy—who leaves little love notes under my door. I was just joking about him being my boyfriend—I don’t even know who it is.”

Harry felt an uneasy prickling between his shoulder blades. “Some strange guy goes to your house?” he asked. “Has he done anything besides leave the notes?”

“No, of course not,” she said hastily. “It’s just a silly crush, I’m sure. Forget I said anything.”

“Uh-huh.” He looked at her, his eyes narrowed. He knew it was none of his business but the idea of someone hanging around where she lived bothered him—a lot.

“Ready to torture me again?” she asked, her breath and her smile back.

After a short pause, Harry nodded. There was nothing he could do about her so-called admirer at the moment—except to teach her to fight. “Grab a mat—time for pushups and abs.”

She groaned but obeyed. Harry joined her for pushups, firing out two for each one of hers, continuing even after she collapsed on the mat and rolled over on her side to watch him.

“Wow,” she commented with a teasing grin. “I think you just hit a thousand.

Working out some pent-up aggression?”

He paused a few inches off the floor and met her eyes.
Something’s pent up but it’s
not aggression
, he thought, helpless with the knowledge that even another thousand pushups wouldn’t help get his sanity back.

“You ask her out yet?”

Harry looked up from the paperwork scattered across the front desk and scowled at a grinning Dominic. “Who?”

Dom snorted. “Oh I don’t know—maybe a cookie-bearing, curvy little person you’ve been drooling over since she walked in here a week ago?”

“Beth?” Harry asked in mock surprise. “Of course I haven’t. She’s a client.”

“Idiot.” Dominic leaned in, propping his elbows on the tall desk. “If you’re not going to, mind if I take a shot?”

The flash of rage took Harry by surprise. He caught himself halfway into a lunge toward the other man. Taking a deliberate step back, Harry forced his fists to unclench.

“You do and you’re dead,” he growled.

Unfazed by the jealous glare leveled at him, Dominic laughed. “Yeah. You aren’t interested in her at all. Sure, man.”

“As if that’s not a disaster waiting to happen,” Harry scoffed. “She’s a member here now. Say I ask her out and she says yes—what happens when we break up? The gym’s not that big—how could I avoid her when she comes to work out?”

“Dude.” Dominic shook his head. “Why are you being so negative? Isn’t it possible that you wouldn’t break up?”

Harry just shrugged, staring blindly at some forms piled on the desk.

His face serious, Dominic asked, “Do you like her?”

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Harry turned to face Dom. “Yes, okay? I think about her all the fucking time. She’s hot and pretty and smart and funny—”

“And she has a great rack,” Dominic said, nodding solemnly despite a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t talk about her that way,” Harry barked and then had to grin. “God, I’m a sad case, aren’t I?”

“Hell yeah, you are,” Dom agreed. Harry smacked him on his meaty arm.

“Hey,” Dom protested indignantly, rubbing at the spot with an injured expression.

“Careful with the merchandise. You said it first. Besides, just look at yourself, man. You only date girls you don’t like. I mean, there was Cruella and before her that redhead—

what was her name?”

“Anne.”

“Right.” Dominic rolled his eyes in mock terror.

“I liked them,” Harry protested, although his words sounded insincere even to his own ears.

“Okay, so maybe it was me who couldn’t stand them,” Dominic conceded and then shook himself. “Whatever. The fact is they were scary bitches and you knew that you wouldn’t give a shit when they walked away. Not much risk but not much fun either.

You’re what? Forty?”

“Thirty-one, asshole,” Harry corrected.

Dominic waved off the indignant comment. “Whatever. The point is that you’re old enough to have an actual adult relationship—maybe even with someone you
like
.”

Harry stared at the other man. “When did you get all deep on me?” he asked, a smile creeping across his face despite his best efforts at holding on to his scowl. “Are we going to braid each other’s hair and have a pillow fight next?”

“You can mock me,” Dominic told him, poking his finger into Harry’s chest, “but you know I’m right, so just ask her out already.”

Eyeing the other man thoughtfully, Harry said, “You never were interested in Beth, were you? You were just trying to get me going.”

Dominic shrugged and grinned. “Nah, I’d love to take her out if I wasn’t sure you’d rip my head off and use it as a speed bag. She’s crazy hot and when a woman brings you cookies, you know she’s going to be great in bed.” He dodged Harry’s threatening fist and hurried away, calling back over his shoulder, “You better not chicken out now, man.”

Harry turned back to the new membership forms he had been entering into the computer before Dom’s interruption.
Who knew that the meathead could give good advice?

he mused, grinning to himself.

I’ll do it
, he decided. He’d ask Beth out. Immediately, his spirits and cock rose at the thought, excitement and nerves vying for position in his stomach. It might be an absolute disaster but, what the hell, it was worth a shot.

Sheri treated Beth to lunch—a “congratulations on your hot trainer who might somehow, someday end up in your bed” lunch. They both agreed that it needed a shorter name. The two women ducked back into the office several minutes late and hurried to their desks, hoping that no one had noticed.

Beth’s heart jumped when she saw the bouquet of flowers crowded between her computer keyboard and her inbox. They must have been delivered while she was out.

She smiled, touching the edge of a lily with a gentle finger.

Maybe they’re from Harry
, the silly, idealistic part of her brain guessed but then common sense stepped in. There was no way he had sent the flowers. She was just a client to him, she acknowledged with a depressed sigh, pulling the card from the plastic stand. Besides, she hadn’t told him where she worked so he couldn’t have sent them, even if he’d wanted to.

Flowers are nothing in the face of your beauty
, the card read and Beth frowned. What did that even mean? If flowers were nothing, then why send them? There was no signature. She dropped the card in the trash and eyed the bouquet uneasily.

Her card-delivering admirer had stepped up to flowers—delivered to her
work
, no less. This secret crush suddenly felt less harmless. The bouquet seemed almost…menacing. Although she shook her head at her silly fears, Beth hurried to move the flowers, placing them on the floor in front of her desk.

She sat down in her chair, oddly relieved that the flowers were out of sight and still a little disappointed that they weren’t from Harry. Sure, he was just her coach but there had been moments during their last session when Harry had given her a look, an intense, sexy stare that had been more than a client-trainer look. There had been something there—she was sure of it.

Chapter Three

Fifteen minutes into their next training session, Harry snapped at her to stop.

“Take the gloves off,” he ordered abruptly.

Beth stared at him, eyes huge, mouth slightly open in surprise. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

“No,” Harry snapped out. “I need to talk with you in my office.” With that, he stalked away.

As she trailed behind him, Beth’s stomach churned with nerves.
Why is he so angry?

she wondered. She desperately tried to think of what she had done to irritate him so much. Was it the way she had snuggled against him the other day—was she about to hear a lecture about the importance of personal space in a trainer-client relationship?

Was her crush on him so obvious, despite her best efforts to hide how she felt?

Harry was holding the door of his small office open, his normally cheery face drawn tight. Biting her lower lip, Beth followed him into the small room and he shut the door firmly behind her.

As nervous as she was, she realized that she had never been in his office before. A quick glance around gave Beth a blurred impression of a small, cluttered closet of a room, the wooden desk and filing cabinet taking up most of the space and stacks of paper covering everything, leaning in drunkenly precarious piles. Her attention quickly snapped back to Harry.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice small.

He didn’t answer. Her heart pounding in her ears, Beth watched him lean in, his hard-cut mouth coming closer and closer, his blue eyes bright with heat. Catching her under the arms, Harry lifted her and sat her on the desk as if she was just a little girl.

The piles of papers tilted and slid beneath her, forcing Beth to grab his arms for balance. His biceps flexed beneath her hands and she was shocked by the heat radiating off him, almost burning her palms. While she was distracted by the feel of his thick arms, Harry bent his head and captured her mouth.

His kiss was hard, his tongue invading almost immediately. There was no soft asking, just a hard demand, a claiming of her mouth. Beth yielded to it, her body accepting his, her lips opening at the pressure.

Groaning at her soft surrender, Harry pushed her legs apart and moved between them, never breaking the kiss. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, withdrew and thrust again, muffling her heated moan. Pulling back, Harry nipped at her lips and then soothed the tiny pain with his tongue. Beth clutched the back of his head, trying to pull him back into a kiss, but he resisted her efforts with a wicked curl of his mouth and a tug of his teeth on her full bottom lip.

“Don’t tease,” she whimpered, fisting her hands against his skull. Harry froze and his eyes blazed, hot and radiant blue, like light through water. His mouth took hers again, fierce and rough, almost hurting but Beth didn’t care. With a choked gasp of relief, she opened her mouth to his, wanting him with a desire so intense that it would have scared her if she had been thinking.

The room spun as Harry pressed her back against the desk. His earlier teasing finesse gone, he yanked her shorts down her legs. They caught on her athletic shoes but he pulled the fabric free and flung them away. His hands returned immediately to pull her panties off, tearing them in his urgent haste. Their mouths clashed together, teeth and tongues and lips meshing frantically. He yanked his sweatpants and boxer briefs down just far enough to free his straining cock, the tip leaking with need. Reaching behind Beth, he grabbed something from the desk, pulling his mouth away from hers in order to rip the condom wrapper open with his teeth.

Puzzled despite the haze of passion fogging her brain, Beth turned her head to see where he had gotten the small packet.

“You keep condoms in your pen holder?” she asked incredulously. Her desire cooled a little as she wondered how many women he had pulled into his office before her. Why else would he have protection within such easy reach?

He had been focused on rolling the condom over his erection but he looked up at her question, a small grin pulling up the corners of his mouth.

“Dominic,” he explained, his voice still rough with need despite his amusement.

“They keep popping up all over the gym. There’s even lube in the top drawer of the membership desk.”

Her first reaction was relief that it hadn’t been Harry’s stockpile. Her second was bafflement. “Um, why?”

He appeared almost embarrassed as he answered, “He’s matchmaking. I guess he wanted us to be…prepared…wherever it happened.”

“Oh.” Beth felt blood rush to her face but she held his gaze. “Remind me to bring Dominic more cookies.”

His smile fell away as his eyes flared with heat. “You’re killing me,” he gritted as he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and yanked her in for another kiss.

Beth felt the piles of paper give beneath her as he pulled her to the edge of the desk, holding her hips in a hard grip as he bent his knees and thrust into her. His thick cock parted her tight, hot passage and a deep moan vibrated in Harry’s chest.

He felt so good, so right. His fingers dug into the soft give of her hips and he slammed into her, wild thrusts hard enough to shake the desk. Beth climaxed instantly, wave after wave of ecstasy breaking over her, leaving her only vaguely aware of Harry’s shudders as he exploded, following her into mindless pleasure.

Beth gradually came back to reality. As she felt the lumpy mounds of paper beneath her and Harry still inside her, insecurities began slipping in. Was this it? Had this been his goal and now that he’d had it—or had
her
, rather—would he escort her to the door for the “thank you, ma’am” part that followed the “wham, bam”?

And what a wham bam it was
, she thought, trying to hold back a fatuous grin. Her one previous lover—another art student in college—had not prepared her for the crackling attraction between her and Harry, the irresistible, frantic need that had overwhelmed her reservations and any trace of common sense.

Still panting a little, Harry raised his head from where it had been resting next to hers. Their eyes met and Beth was stricken with awkward shyness. She had never been in this situation before.
What should I say?
she wondered, self-conscious under his intent gaze.

“Well, shit.” Harry was the one who broke the silence and his pithy summation made Beth laugh and relax. He pulled out of her and her laughter faded, replaced by a sense of loss.

Don’t be silly
, she told herself sternly.
It’s not like he can stay inside you all the time—

think how awkward work would be.
That thought made her smile again, and Harry grinned back at her as he straightened and tossed the condom into a trashcan next to the desk before adjusting his pants.

BOOK: One-Two Punch
4.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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