Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
“I like lifting,” he says as he picks up the twenty-pounders.
“You’d have been a wreck if you missed arm day,” I tease.
“Muscles don’t make themselves,” he says drily.
I roll my eyes, laughing. “Just say it. You fucking came here for me.”
He laughs wickedly. “You cave easily. It didn’t take long at all for you to change tactics.”
“So you admit it then,” I press.
“I never didn’t admit it,” he corrects, then sets down the dumbbells and heads to the chest fly machine.
“Bet you had flies on your to-do…” I can’t finish.
The view. The fucking view fries my brain as Maddox parks his fine ass on the machine and spreads his legs.
My breath hisses.
I stop mid-lift. It’s impossible to look away as he grabs the machine’s handles and slowly pulls his arms toward the center of his chest. On each release, his arms stretch as wide as they can, leaving him vulnerable, bound by the machine.
“Maddox,” I groan. “Don’t move.”
He complies, holding the spread as if I’d tied him down, arms strapped to the sides of a bed. His eyes flicker with burning intensity. “I won’t move,” he says in a filthy bedroom promise of…submission.
I lower the weights, stalk over so I’m facing him, and set my hands on the handles. “I didn’t ask you here to seduce you,” I confess, meeting his eyes.
He breathes out hard, rough. “Are you going to, though?”
“I want to.” Permission matters, so I ask the next question very deliberately. “Can I?”
“Yes.”
That first yes cranks my engine, but there’s more I need to know. Desires we’ve only touched on. “You like this position? In bed? You like being tied up? Held down? Bound?”
His eyes are wide, flickering with vulnerability. Is this hard for him to admit? I fucking hope he’s comfortable sharing his wants with me. Then, heat flashes in his irises as he answers confidently, “Yes.”
I want to clutch his yes, carry it with me all day, all night. I want to tuck his consent in my pocket and savor it. His wishes are beautiful. That they match mine is a goddamn gift. “That’s what I want too,” I say, opening myself up as well, meeting his desires with my own.
“I had a feeling,” he says, deliciously sarcastic.
I’m standing, and he’s sitting, immobile, held in place by the machine and me. “Pick a safe word,” I say.
“Daquiri,” he says with a wicked grin.
I smile, a dirty kind of bliss running through my body. “Perfect.”
Then, his smile burns off. His dark gaze swings to his right hand, then his left. It’s an invitation. “You’ve got me where you want me. What are you gonna do?” His voice is sandpaper.
Here we are, playing with our fantasies, but acting them out at last. Wrapping my hands tighter around his, I bend closer, my pulse surging as I draw a whiff of the man. There’s barely a hint of that ocean breeze scent this morning. He must have showered late last night, and that soapy smell has faded. He’s all sweaty man now, and his scent lights me up. “I’ve got a million dirty plans for you. But first, I’d probably do something real subtle, like this,” I say, letting go of his right hand to brush my thumb along his chiseled jawline.
“Ohhh,” he murmurs, shutting his eyes, leaning his face into my touch.
“Yeah, that’s right.” I drag my thumb down his throat, along his Adam’s apple.
When he opens his eyes again, I plunge closer, like I’m coming in for a kiss. He parts his lips, asking for one. But I dart away, instead dipping my face to his arm, kissing the soft crook of his elbow. I’m not sure I’ve ever kissed anyone there. But I taste salt, and it sends adrenaline spinning in me.
I kiss down his forearm to his wrists. “These wrists…”
“So many things you could do with them here at a gym. Bands, jump ropes, your shirt,” he suggests.
“My hands work too,” I growl as a fire ignites beneath my skin. I have to taste him. “Tell me to kiss you.”
“Kiss me,” he says, like a plea.
I lean in and capture his lips. I go wild at the minty morning freshness of his mouth coupled with the faint tang of sweat above his lips. I kiss him deeply, full of a greedy thirst I can’t slake. I take another hit, then I slow the pace, kissing the corner of his lips, jawline, then ear once more. I pull back to meet the gaze of my willing and eager partner, who’s offering himself to me. Our eyes lock and electricity flares between us. “Need more of you. Can I have it?” I ask.
He’s patient, licking his lips as he waits for his moment. Then, with wild desire in his brown eyes, he says, “Give me orders. I’ll follow them.”