Chasing the Dragon

by T. K. Leigh

  Running always felt strangely therapeutic for me. I could put all my anger, heartache, and sadness into the act. And it was something I could control. I wasn’t at the mercy of needing someone to spot me. It was just me, and that’s how I liked it. As a runner, I should have despised the treadmill, but I liked the familiarity it gave me. Nothing unexpected would happen while I placed one foot in front of the other in rapid succession. On the streets, I was at the mercy of the elements. My run could be cut short by a storm, a car wreck, anything. Inside, I could turn off and set the treadmill to seven and run for exactly forty-five minutes. The treadmill was stable, and I needed that stability.

  Eyeing somebody climb onto the treadmill next to me, I scowled, annoyed. There were rows of unused machines, but the prick had to choose the one next to me? I just wanted to be left alone. Sensing the figure glance at me as if gauging my speed, my annoyance grew into irritation when he picked up his own pace as if it were a contest.

  I kept my speed consistent, not straying from my plan. Five minutes of easy pace, then some speed training. Of course, the more I noticed the person measuring my speed, the more inclined I was to break from that plan. I tried to resist, but something inside me made me feel like I had to do it, like I had to push it and prove I could hold my own.

  “Fuck it,” I mumbled and increased my pace dramatically. I had been running routinely enough that my legs kept up with relative ease. I glanced quickly to the person running next to me, still not looking at his face, and grinned when he began to run faster in response. I felt great and surprisingly free, regardless of the break in my original plan. It was going to take a hell of a lot more than running at a speed of seven-and-a-half to tire me out.

  Maintaining my pace, I waited for him to increase his speed. Minutes went by and I wondered if he was too tired to go any faster.

  “Is that all you’ve got?” I exclaimed loudly, punching my treadmill and increasing my speed a few clicks.

  “Oh, no, hot stuff,” he said in response, his voice muffled through my earbuds. “I’m just getting warmed up. I hope you’re not easily tired out because, I assure you, I can go for hours.”

  My face flushed from the double entendre, but I maintained my speed. My brain was focused on simply putting one foot in front of the other, ignoring the burn starting to build in my legs. My competitive spirit didn’t know the meaning of the word quit. Refusing to show defeat, I increased my speed once more, adrenaline rushing as the figure next to me imitated my motions on his own treadmill. I prayed he would give in soon as my legs were starting to tire from the intensity.

  “You really think you can keep this up all day?” I shouted, my breathing slightly labored. “Well, I’ll tell you one thing. I don’t give up, so you’re in for the long haul, buddy.”

  “Why am I not surprised by that, Mackenzie?”

  My head snapped up. Staring into a pair of familiar green eyes, I clumsily lost my balance, tripping over my feet as I struggled not to fall off the machine.

  “Shit,” he exclaimed, jumping toward me and stopping the belt on my treadmill. Grabbing me by the waist right before I was about to fall, he pulled my body into his, lifting me off the belt as it slowed to a stop.

  Sweat dotted both our skin and there was something so perfect, so warm about being trapped in his embrace. A low burn began to build in my stomach, slowly spreading through the rest of my body, and I couldn’t do anything but stare into my mystery man’s eyes. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. The only thing I could think was how right this complete stranger’s arms felt wrapped around me, supporting me, comforting me.

  “Are you okay, Mackenzie?” he asked, his tone as sensual as it was during our past few meetings. Perhaps even more so. I had heard that voice in my dreams, calling to me, moaning my name as he grew overwhelmed with ecstasy from my arousing touch on even the most innocent parts of his body. Since Friday night, his eyes and body had invaded my thoughts, both conscious and subconscious. I didn’t even know his name, but that didn’t stop me from fantasizing about him.

  Snapping out of my daydream, I pushed against his chest and out of his embrace, needing to keep my distance before I made the mistake of turning my dreams into reality.

  “Yes. I’m fine.” I grabbed my towel and began to dab the sweat from my neck and brow, trying to hide my embarrassment.

  “Are you?” He hovered over me and, under the florescent bulbs of the gym, I was able to get a better look at him. His chest was broad and defined, but not in an intimidating way. It was more an indication that he took care of himself. The sleeveless t-shirt he wore kept his biceps exposed, revealing a tattoo of an angel, her wings spread wide, and when he crossed his arms in front of his chest, they flexed. My eyes traveled the length of his body to one of my favorite parts of any man. Legs. His were breathtaking, his calves pronounced as if he spent a great deal of time running.

  “Like what you see?” he asked in amusement.

  My eyes grew wide as I returned them to his, slightly flustered that I had been caught checking him out. He had a cocky smirk, and I hated that he was more than aware of the effect he had on me.

  I hated the effect he had on me.

  Straightening my spine, I said, “Truthfully, yes. I do like what I see. But appearances only go so far. Since I don’t even know your name, I’m afraid my attraction to you only goes skin-deep.”

  I grabbed my things, checking the time on my smart phone to see how off schedule I was. It was nearly three in the afternoon and I had so much I wanted to do before tonight, including work.

  “Goodbye, whoever you are. And thank you for the flowers.”

  Just as I was about to turn from him, I felt a strong hand grasp my arm. Before I knew what was happening, my body was pressed against his once more, memories of the previous night and our incredibly intimate and arousing dance replaying in my mind.

  “Aren’t you curious?”

  “About your name? And who you really are? Of course I am. You’ve made it nearly impossible for me not to be curious.”

  “So I was right, wasn’t I?” he asked. Running his hands up and down my back, he tugged my ponytail, forcing me to look into his hungry green eyes. My brain felt foggy, my instincts clouded from the effect his body, eyes, and sinful tone had on me. I was drawn to him and I was dumbfounded as to why. I knew absolutely nothing about him. Not his name, where he was from, what he did for a living, or how old he was.

  “About what?” I asked, my voice strong, masking my weakening defenses.

  “You were thinking about me, weren’t you? Why else would you be curious about who I am?”

  “I could be curious about that without having thought of you. In fact, the thought of you hasn’t crossed my mind once since you left last night.” I closed my eyes, unable to turn my head.

  “Is that the truth?” he asked, cupping my face in his large hand. “Because I’ve done nothing but think about you. And these perfect pink lips.”

  A finger traced my bottom lip and I whimpered, completely unhinged and in a trance. For a short moment, all rationale and reason was thrown out the window as I lost myself in his erotic and sensual touch.

  “Look at me, Mackenzie,” he said forcefully.

  My eyes flung open, as if my mind had no control over what my body did. He held it all.

  “Tell me the truth. Tell me you’ve been thinking about me as much as I have of you.”

  Staring into his intense eyes, primal lust evident in his gaze, I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I exhaled.

  A sly grin crossed his face. He lowered his lips toward mine, and I braced myself for what I knew would be a mind-blowing and all-consuming kiss. It felt as if everything moved in slow motion, but I wanted nothing more than to speed time up. I needed to feel his lips on mine as soon as possible. I could picture our first kiss in my mind. It wouldn’t be soft and sweet. It wouldn’t be timid. No. It would be greedy, animalistic. A kiss to ruin me for any future kisses.

  “Tyler,” he
murmured, a breath away from my mouth. “My name is Tyler.” He pulled back and a scowl crossed my face, confused about why he hadn’t kissed me. I wanted his kiss. I needed it. It was the only thing that would settle the flames slowly beginning to smolder in the pit of my stomach.

  Bringing my hand to his lips, he placed a chaste kiss on it. “Until next time, mi cariño.” He raised his eyes to look at me one last time. “And there will most certainly be a next time.” He released my hand and began to walk away.

  “When?” I called out, desperation taking over.

  “Soon. Very soon,” he said, the words more like an order than a promise. “Good day, Miss Delano.” He winked and disappeared down the stairs. I tilted my head to check out his rather attractive backside.

  “Good day, Tyler.” I touched my mouth as I thought how amazing it felt to have his lips just a whisper away from mine.

  Mackenzie

  A FEW MINUTES BEFORE nine that evening, I sat behind the desk in my office at the restaurant, carefully applying my makeup. A sudden movement caught my eye and I raised my head to see Jenna flitting into the room, wearing a short and tight cherry red dress.

  “Did Brayden tell you he rented a limo for tonight?” she asked, plopping down on the couch.

  “Yeah, he did. Don’t you feel guilty, though?” I responded, lining my hazel eyes with deep gray shadowing.

  “No. What should we feel guilty about?” She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms in front of her body, slightly pushing her small chest up.

  “About leaving while the restaurant’s open.”

  “Mack,” Jenna started, her voice severe, “we talked about this. We hired fantastic managers so we don’t have to be here twenty-four/seven. I need to see my husband. And you need to have a life. They can handle it. And if there’s a problem, they’ll call. You see that little device that seems to be permanently glued to your hand?” she said sarcastically, gesturing to where my smart phone lay within reach on the desk. “When people dial a ten digit combination assigned to that, it’ll ring. And when you press a little green button and say hello, you’ll be able to hear them.” Her mouth went wide in faux shock. “The miracle of modern technology, Mack.”

  I grabbed a pencil off my desk and threw it at her. “Okay. I get it. No need to be so snarky.”

  “I’m not snarky.” She paused, pinching her lips together. “Okay, maybe a little.” She playfully stuck her tongue out.

  Pushing out of my chair, I walked to the floor-length mirror that hung on the door to my office, checking my reflection. “What do you think? Will this pass the Brayden inspection?” I asked, smoothing the lines of a sleek polka dot dress that clung to my curves, hitting just above the knees. It pushed my chest up just slightly, making it bigger than it already was…but in a tasteful manner.

  “It’s very sixties pin-up,” Jenna commented.

  “That’s what I was aiming for. Ready?” I asked, turning to her. She nodded and raised herself from the couch, following me down the hallway and toward the stairs that led to the kitchen.

  Exiting the front doors of the restaurant, we were greeted with a tall man clad in a suit standing next to a black stretch limo.

  “Miss Delano and Miss Pope?”

  “That’s us!” Jenna said.

  “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Jeffrey and I’ll be your chauffeur for the evening.” He opened the door, allowing us to enter. “There’s champagne in the wet bar. Please help yourself and enjoy the ride.”

  “Where’s Brayden?” Jenna asked.

  “Mr. Weller was running behind schedule and will be meeting you there.”

  “Where?” I inquired.

  “He has instructed me that it’s a surprise, but it shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes to get there.” He closed the door, and Jenna and I gave each other a knowing look.

  “That boy…,” she said. “He certainly has a flair for the dramatic, doesn’t he?”

  “He sure does,” I agreed, sliding across the seat toward the wet bar. “At least he treats us well. Look!” I held up the champagne bottle. “Cristal! That’s the thing about Brayden. He gives us the best. Bubbly?”

  “Absolutely!”

  I popped the cork and poured two glasses, enjoying my first relaxing minute all day.

  “So…,” Jenna said. “Let’s talk about last night.” She lowered her voice. “Who were you dancing with? I was with Richard so I wasn’t really paying attention.” Her face flushed and it warmed my heart to see how enamored she was with her husband. “But I saw you off in the distance dancing with Mr. Tall, Dark, and…” She trailed off, her eyes growing wide and she gasped. “Mackenzie!” She darted across the limo and nearly made me spill my expensive champagne. “Was it…?”

  “Who? What do you mean? I don’t have the slightest clue what you’re talking about.” I stared out the darkened window of the limo, biting my lip in an attempt to hide my smile. The sidewalks were swarming with people in town for vacation, even on a Sunday night, and the traffic was slow-moving along the main strip on the eastern side of the small island.

  I wanted to tell Jenna all about my mystery man and our multiple chance encounters. In just forty-eight hours, he had thrown my world into a tailspin and I had barely spent five minutes with him. But, at the same time, I didn’t want to admit I had feelings for him. It seemed too…perfect. He was too perfect. I had learned that if something seemed too good to be true, it usually was.

  “Yes, you do. You can put on an act all you want, Mack, but I know you. It was him, wasn’t it? The guy from the bar Friday night? Who is he?”

  I downed my glass of champagne, taking a moment to compose my thoughts. “It’s almost like he’s the combination of every leading man I’ve ever swooned over. As if he’s Prince Charming, Clark Gable, and Humphrey Bogart all rolled into one. As if he knows exactly what to say to make me feel…”

  “Love?” she interrupted.

  “Flutters,” I sighed, unable to hide my excitement.

  “But…” Jenna narrowed her gaze at me.

  “What do you mean but?”

  “There’s always a but with you, so let’s hear it,” she retorted, crossing her arms in mock irritation.

  “But… I need to focus on the restaurant.”

  She rolled her eyes. “What’s the real reason, Mack?”

  “You sound just like Brayden. That is the real reason, Jenna. I’m not ready. Let’s leave it at that,” I said firmly, the tone of my voice making it more than evident I wasn’t interested in discussing it any further.

  “Fine. Don’t talk about him. I don’t know why I bother.” She winked, leaning back in her seat.

  “Tyler,” I said softly, my lips turning up. “His name is Tyler.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  “SHUT THE FRONT DOOR! It’s Rachel McAdams and Eva Mendes!” Brayden exclaimed as Jenna and I strode past the roped entryway of Tides, South Padre’s hottest nightspot. “You two look marvelous!” He ran up to us and we hugged as if we hadn’t seen each other in years instead of hours.

  “You look quite dashing yourself,” I said, looking him up and down. He was wearing a pressed navy blue button-down shirt that he paired with charcoal jeans, a leather belt that probably sported the label Versace, and a pair of black dress shoes. His blond hair was kept short and styled, his blue eyes completing his boy next door appearance. He worked out nearly as much as I did and had a body to prove it. He was beautiful on the inside and out, and I counted myself as truly blessed to have a strong man to support me…and, on occasion, smack some sense into me.

  “Oh, this old thing,” he said, smirking. “Come. Party is this way. I’m as excited as a virgin on prom night!”

  “Who else did you invite?” Jenna asked.

  “You’ll see,” Brayden sang, his voice exuding a suspicious amount of elation.

  He grabbed our hands, leading us through the busy club. I absorbed my surroundings, taking it all in. I hadn’t actually been in this particular club ye
t. It had only opened about five or six months ago and I had been too busy to actually go out clubbing like I used to. Needless to say, I was rather impressed. The clientele was in their upper twenties and all dressed to impress. Even the bartenders were all attractive, wowing customers with their ability to toss and catch bottles, all while mixing a cocktail.

  As I was pulled across a dance floor packed with bodies illuminated under flashing lights moving to the beat of some dance song, I was grateful to Brayden for planning tonight. It was as if he knew I would need this to wash off the stress and responsibilities I now shouldered.

  “Okay, girls.” Brayden turned us toward him. “This is as far as you go without protective eyewear.”

  We both stared at him in confusion, looked at each other, then back at Brayden again. Releasing our arms, he reached into his pocket and pulled out two eye masks.

  “Kinky,” Jenna said.

  “Calm your tits. You’re not my type,” he joked.

  “What’s it for?” I asked, eyeing the mask skeptically.

  “Just put them on and stop asking questions.”

  Shrugging, we placed the masks over our eyes and everything went dark.

  I felt a presence behind me and all I could think was how I would give anything for it to be Tyler, how hot it would be for him to blindfold me so I would be at the mercy of his sensual and erotic mouth. No matter how much I wanted to stop thinking about him, I couldn’t. Everything seemed to remind me of him. To say I was conflicted about that was certainly an understatement.

  Whenever he was near, I wanted him there. I didn’t want him to ever leave my side. But when we were apart and the fog his presence caused had dissipated, I struggled with my feelings and my emotions were a seesaw. One minute, I was on cloud nine from the mere thought of him. The next, I was on a low, convincing myself I needed to keep my distance.