by JB Salsbury
“Nothing wrong with that.” His big hand lands on my thigh, and he massages my muscle with his thumb. “You cramping up?”
“A little.” Thanks to trying to keep up with you.
His fingers feel like heaven as they dig deep into my quad, so I lie back and allow him to continue. His hand slides up farther until his knuckles brush between my thighs. I grin.
“You’re still coming over tonight, right?” His voice is thicker than it was, and I wish his knees weren’t cocked so I could see if I’m having the effect on him that he’s having on me.
“Yes.”
“Good.” He checks his industrial-looking watch. “It’s almost ten. You should probably leave if you’re going to eat and shower before work.”
I pop up, and he brushes all the dead grass off my back before walking me to my car.
“I’ll text you the room number.” He wraps his arms around my waist, and our sweaty lips meet in the sexiest, slowest, closed-mouth kiss.
“Okay.” I breathe against his lips. “I can’t wait.”
~*~
Braeden
“Aw fuck, dude, I can’t.” I rack the leg press that Blake loaded with 520lbs. “I’m whipped.”
“What do you mean you’re whipped?” He checks the clock on the wall in the UFL Training Center’s gym then glares at me. “We haven’t even been at it for an hour yet.”
“My legs are shot.” I step back, grab my water, and take greedy swallows.
After this morning’s run that followed last night’s sex-a-thon, I’m fucking spent.
He crosses his arms at his chest. “Your legs are shot. Really? The United States Marine Corps is training you guys at the level of an average suit who gets his thirty-minute workouts after he puts in his eight hours behind a desk? Is that what you’re telling me?”
I drop down to the bench and rest my elbows on my knees, willing my thighs to stop convulsing. “No, prick, I ran like five miles this morning, and I—” Shit, I don’t want to tell Blake about AJ, at least, not yet. “Didn’t sleep well last night, so my body’s revolting.”
He’s silent, which surprises me. Twelve times out of ten this asshole can’t resist the chance to give me a hard time about whatever assumptions he’s made about my nightlife. In this case, he’d probably be right.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” He clears his throat. “Is everything okay with Dad?”
I shrug one shoulder, lean back, and meet his eyes. “Not really. You know the cancer’s back.”
“Shit, I thought it might be.” He drops onto the bench next to me. “Mom’s been weird when I ask about him.”
“Yeah, he doesn’t want anyone to know. The chemo fucked him up the first time. He doesn’t want to go through it again.”
He grunts in acknowledgement but doesn’t give me even a hint of what he’s thinking.
I slap my thighs and push up to grab a towel and wipe the sweat off my face.
“Any idea how much time he has?”
“Six months, a year, three years . . . who knows.”
My older brother’s lips turn down.
“Hey, don’t worry about Dad. He’s in a good place, man, really. I think . . . I don’t know . . . I think he’s ready. He got a few good years in after treatment, got to see you get married and see Jack grow up a little. Mom’s become a lot more independent; she’s involved in her church and making friends. If Dad’s ready, we need to let him go.”
“Not like the stubborn bastard would give us a choice. He’s done everything on his terms.”
“The doctors told us it might come back. Dad always made it clear he wouldn’t fight it if it did.”
“True. Just . . . things have been good, ya know? Between us.”
“Yeah.” My dad and brother finally patched their fractured relationship. I can see why it would hurt like hell to lose him now that The General is finally acting like a dad rather than a drill sergeant.
Blake pulls out his phone and starts stabbing his thick finger to the screen. “You’re coming for dinner tonight, right?”
“What time?”
He glares at me and his lips pull up on one side. This fucker. “Why, you got plans?”
“Maybe.”
“So, bring her along.” He goes back to punching out a text.
“Nah, bro. We aren’t there yet.”
“There where? You two can’t eat a meal together?”
“Hey, I know we’ve only known each other for like a day, but how’d you like to come over and meet half my family?”
“Good point.” He shoves the phone back into his pocket. “Layla will kick your ass if she doesn’t get to see you again before you leave tomorrow.”
“I can make it over for dinner; just have to be out of there by nine.”
“That’s cool.” He stands and moves toward the dumbbells. “Since your weenie legs gave out, let’s get some arms in.”
I can only hope our run this morning followed by three shows of flipping and flying will sap AJ of her stamina tonight or else the girl might kill me.
Six
AJ
“Two down, one to go, people!” Cedric, our stage manager, passes backstage with his headset and iPad. “Stage call in thirty minutes!”
I roll my ankles and flex my toes while sitting flat on my ass with my phone in my hand.
Still no word from Braeden.
Maybe he changed his mind?
It’s not that late, and he did mention spending time with his brother, so maybe he just hasn’t had a chance to text me.
Don’t freak out yet, AJ.
My legs feel warm and strong after today’s run, and I nailed my double tucks in the last show. After a couple of more floor-stretches, I make my way to the bathroom. With a full body suit of spandex covered in crystals, it’s always smart to allow a few extra minutes for pee breaks.
“AJ, can you take my bladder with you, empty it, and bring it back?” William, a fellow tumbler, says from his full split stretch on the floor.
“First off, gross. And second . . .” I pity the poor guy. His unitard is similar to mine, but he’s wrapped in yards and yards of fabric that crisscross his private areas. “You’d think they’d at least give you guys a zipper or something.”
He frowns, and even with his face covered in the green and brown paint of a wood nymph, he looks beautiful. Not handsome, but pretty. Judging by the lip-locks I’ve seen him in with Tomás, one of the main male fairies, I’d say I’m not the only one who finds William gorgeous. “Help. I gotta pee!”
I laugh and then hold out my hand to assist him with standing. “That’s the best I can do. Everything else . . .” I motion to his body. “That’s all you.”
“Fine!”
“We better hurry or we’re going to miss stage call.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have had those few sips of water.” We laugh and scurry to the bathrooms.
Even after getting my arm stuck upon reentry, I manage to beat William and get back to my dressing table to check my phone again.
Still nothing.
I’m acting like some obsessed teenage girl. Shake this off, AJ. I refocus and get my head back into the game. If Braeden texts, great. If not, oh well, I can live through personal disappointment. Professional disappointment would destroy me.
~~~
I jog backstage after a standing ovation for our last performance, and my blood is humming with energy. Something about the roar of a crowd when I close my eyes and bathe in the sound makes me feel superhuman. And I’m only the back up.
One day I’ll be the lead in a show, and all that applause will be for me.
And, bonus, I’ll have the paycheck that goes along with it.
A nice car, gorgeous apartment that overlooks the strip, and a closet overflowing with designer clothes, it’s a future I’ve visualized my entire life, and I’ll stop at nothing to get it.
I’m stripping off my bodysuit when I remember Braeden. Once I made the decision to stop checking
my phone every chance I got, I practically forgot about him completely, at least momentarily.
Picking up the device, I see I have new texts. All of them from him.
#273.
Shit. I hit send too soon. I’d never be that much of a dick and just send a room number. I’m going to order some porn service.
FUCK! NO, not PORN! ROOM SERVICE! And I hit the gdam send button again! This piece of shit porn hates me.
I give up. Duck this shit. I hope you had a good shower and I’ll see you when you get here.
Shower.
Shower.
Mother duck!
S H O W ßTHERE!
“Girl, what are you smiling about?” William’s standing behind me in nothing but his flesh-colored thong as he looks over my shoulder.
I close out my text screen and smile back at him, making sure to keep my gaze above his chest. I made the mistake my first week here of checking out the performers in their skivvies, and the resulting blush lasted hours. “Just a text from a friend.”
He lifts one beautifully sculpted eyebrow. “I’d say from the expression on your face this is more than a friend.”
“Maybe.” I shove my phone into my backpack and continue to undress. Thankfully, William doesn’t even notice he’s in the presence of a mostly naked woman.
“What are you up to tonight?”
“Um . . .” I wonder how much I should share. I don’t know when or if I’ll ever see Braeden again after tonight, and William will bug the crap out of me for more information if I tell him I’m meeting up with a guy. I slide on a pair of Soffes and slip on a sweatshirt. “Probably just go home. What about y—”
“Excuse me.” The deep voice calls our attention to the doorway of my cubicle.
“Mr. Monroe.”
He nods to William, and I notice he, too, is avoiding everything below the chest. “Would you mind giving Miss Pines and me a moment alone?”
“Sure thing, boss.” William scurries out of there, mouthing a quick holy shit to me before disappearing.
Thankfully, Mr. Monroe didn’t come by two minutes sooner, or he may have caught me naked.
The towering man fills the small space as he crosses to sit on my dressing stool. He’s wearing a sleek blue suit with a lighter blue shirt and tie that all look too clean and perfect to be real. How many suits does this guy own? His gaze slides around, studying the walls before settling on me.
I grin, hoping it’s friendly and doesn’t give away how freaked the hell out I really am.
“I enjoyed your performance tonight, Adeline.”
“I prefer AJ.” I clench my teeth, having corrected him out of habit. He’s my boss, he can call me whatever he wants if it means I get to keep my job.
“You’re very talented.” The sharp edge of his voice makes the compliment sound critical rather than heartfelt, but fuck it, I’ll take it.
“Thank you, Mr. Monroe.”
“I’ve taken the liberty of getting you next Friday night off so that we can have dinner together.”
I would be nervous if this sounded anything like a real date, but the way he says it, just like with the compliment, sounds one-hundred-percent business. So naturally, I’m shitting myself.
“Sir, do you mind me asking what this is about?”
His cold dark eyes settle on mine. “I do.”
“You . . . do?”
He stands and crosses the room then shoves his hands into his pockets while looking down at me. “I’ll meet you in the bar at Escalante at seven o’clock. Don’t be late.” With a slight frown and a nod, he leaves.
I’m left with my jaw hanging open and fear tickling my veins.
Don’t think the worst.
He did say he enjoyed my performance.
What could he possibly want to have dinner with me for?
I suppose going is the only way I’ll find out.
~*~
Braeden
With my back to the headboard and the remote firmly in hand, I continue to run through every channel the hotel offers without seeing any of it.
I managed to get out of Blake and Layla’s house with just enough time to get here, brush my teeth, order some room service, and wait.
My phone is on the bed next to me, and it hasn’t buzzed once.
It’s possible, after I totally fucked up my text messages, she’s thinking I’m some kind of illiterate porn-addicted prick with fat fingers, and she’s standing me up.
Which would suck.
I’ve been looking forward to seeing her again since the second we said good-bye at the park.
The lights from the strip shine in through my second-floor window. It’s the lowest I could get to the ground. I may be a trained Marine, but I’m scared as shit of heights.
There’s a soft knock at the door, and I hop up from the bed faster than I’d think I’m capable of.
I peek through the peephole and see AJ, her hair pulled back, sweatshirt, and with her head turned and looking down the hallway, I study the gentle curve of her jawline.
God, she’s beautiful.
“Who is it?”
She glares right at me. “Joe.”
“Joe who?”
“Joe Mama!”
I grin. “Mom, I can’t let you in. See. I’ve got a girl coming over, and we planned on spending the night naked doing all kinds of dirty on this hotel bed, so . . .”
Her eyes flare, and I don’t miss the way her lips part to accommodate her breathing.
“Come back tomorrow.”
That seems to snap her out of it, and her spine stiffens. “Okay. Bye.” She walks away.
I laugh and wait for her to come back. My eye frantically searches the small viewfinder, but she’s gone.
Hurling the door open, I plan to chase her down and throw her over my shoulder—
“Boo!” She jumps out at me.
I stumble back with my hand on my chest. “Dead! I’m dead!”
She throws her head back, laughing, and then points. “That’s what you get!”
“You little shit, you scared me!”
“Big tough Marine got scared by little ole me?”
She really is little, especially now wearing rubber flip-flops, her toned legs on display in a pair of short cotton shorts that I fully plan to introduce to the floor in a matter of seconds.
“Get inside, muffin.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Her hips sway as she passes by me and into the room. “Whoa, this is nice.”
I follow her in and close the door. “Thank you. I decorated it myself.”
She walks right to the floor-to-ceiling windows and stares out at the strip. “Not the room, the view.”
“You want something to drink? Or eat?”
She doesn’t turn around when I motion to the room service cart that has a fruit plate, a turkey sandwich, and in case she’s feeling naughty, a gigantic slice of chocolate cake, all covered in silver domes. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Maybe later.” After we work up an appetite. Shut up, Braeden! Don’t make this only about sex.
“Yeah, later,” she says absently while still staring out the window.
“You act like you’ve never seen the strip before.”
Her shoulders hunch up a little and she turns. “Sorry, I just . . . every time I see it like this, it takes my breath away. I can’t believe I live here.”
“You talk like Vegas is the Greek Isles. It’s a city in the desert.”
“It’s more than that.” She glances back toward the lights. “It’s opportunity.”
“If you say so. Are you sore after the workout I gave you?”
“Which one?”
Touché.
“Both.”
“No.”
I close the distance between us, and when she sees me advancing, she steps back. “Wait.”
I hold my hands up. “Everything okay?”
“I need to take a shower.”
My lips pull into a wide grin. “I
can help you with that.”
“I’m really gross, Braeden.”
“Call me Brae. And I highly doubt you’re gross.”
“I am. I smell and I’m sticky all over and—”
“You’re turning me on. Keep talking.”
She bursts into laughter and shakes her head. “Alright, if you promise my nastiness won’t turn you off, you’re welcome to join me.”
I take the few steps that bring us together. “No way, baby. Your nastiness is exactly what I want.” Hooking her sweatshirt, I pull it up slowly, making sure to brush my fingers along her sides, up her ribcage, and to— “Damn . . . no bra?”
“Seemed pointless.”
I pull the thick fleece over her head and lose my breath at the sight of her naked torso. It takes all my strength to respect her wishes to shower first with the hard-on of all hard-ons pressing painfully against the zipper of my jeans. I tug her shorts down, and she steps out of them along with her flip-flops.
“Turn around.”
She does so that she’s facing the lights of the city, and I love that she’s not bashful or modest about her nudity, proudly displaying her naked body rather than shying away from the glass. I carefully unwind the elastic band of her ponytail and watch the long waves tumble over her back.
I push my fingers through her hair and press my hips to her ass so she can feel what her naked form does to me.
She leans her head back against my shoulder as I rub her scalp with languid strokes.
“You like people watching you.”
She rubs her ass against me, and I grip her hair tighter, making her fucking purr. “Don’t stop.”
I might be pressing my luck, but I’m so fucking curious, so I guide her a few steps forward until the tips of her breasts brush against the cold glass. She arches into my touch and moans so deep I feel it between my legs.
“You like that? You like the idea of being seen?”
“Yes.”
I dip down and suck at the side of her neck, tasting the salt of her sweat as she slides her tits against the window. “You’re so fucking sexy. I want inside you.”
“Shower. Then you can have me.”
I scoop her into my arms. “Done.”
~~~
I have no fucking clue what time it is, and I refuse to look at the clock, fearing it’s going to announce it’s time for AJ to leave.
