by Candice Owen
He said she was "succulent." They spent hours naked feasting of each other, kissing, stroking, fucking. When he went into prison for things he could have done but that made no sense to anyone, Sharon dropped in weight.
She couldn’t eat. Some of it was restored but when Lance and she began dating, he praised her for her skinny look. So she kept it up. Lance had a wandering eye so part of her knew she was maintaining the weight to keep from being abandoned again by another man. And she realized there wasn’t any joy in their relationship to make her fat and sassy.
"Does she, Polly?” Jason asked. “Can you attest to this fact?"
A flare of jealousy burned Sharon at his flirtation. Polly was charmed by him. He never mentioned an attraction to another woman while he was with her the way Lance did. Though she knew he was human and a man, so he had to notice a good looking woman. But Sharon always did the math; he was flirting with her, he was only interested in her. That made the effect of their chemistry all the more intense.
"Yes." Sharon smiled, unnerved by his direct stare. She felt dumbed by attraction like a teenage girl. She was going get teased by Polly for sure.
"Maybe it’s all that good loving you're getting," Jason said. Polly gasped again but Sharon swayed, staggered by the reality that her love life was anything but great. She had merely tolerated it.
"Are we ready?" Sharon asked. Polly nodded, holding her share of their things. Sharon could hardly navigate, she was so stirred up. Her first steps towards Paradise Beach were shaky. Jason gripped her arm.
"Hey," he said softly.
"Oh, why did you come back? My life was so, so—" she searched.
"So-so," he finished for her. "I am sorry for messin' with you. Well, I’m not entirely sorry. You’re incredibly beautiful when you’re flustered. But I will be good," Jason said. "You girls be safe. I saw you dancing here. Goodness, couldn't miss ya," he said, not taking his eyes off of Sharon. "Had to say hello. I am on my way to Lou's myself.” He replaced his helmet and mounted his bike.
Sharon and Polly walked over and spread their picnic blanket on the sand to get some sun and watch the beach bodies fight it out on both sides of the net. At one of the volleyball match breaks a particularly handsome player approached them to flirt. He was quite taken with Polly and he invited the two of them to join the teams for their after parties. Sharon took the opportunity to call it an early evening, but Polly wanted to join them. Just as all were going their separate ways and Sharon crossed the sand to the asphalt path that lead to the street, Lance called.
"Hi," she answered. The sound of his voice turned her stomach. Sharon had gone into her relationship with him believing he was the best choice for her but never ever feeling for a moment what she always felt for Jason.
"Hi?" He laughed. "Hi? I’m your fiancé. No ‘hey baby’? My goodness. Do you have anything you want to tell me?"
Sharon was annoyed. "You got me there. Sorry I’ve just been hanging out with Polly and I don’t think my shades worked well. I’m going to go home and go to bed."
"Sure. Feel better."
If Lance were Jason, he would have just swung by and picked her up. And she would have been happy to see him. She hadn’t even connected with Lance all day and she could not wait until he was off the phone.
CHAPTER FOUR
The sun was still high in the sky, though the day was pretty much coming to a close. Sharon could safely make it up Ellis to her flat among the cluster of walk-up apartments at the far end. In her mind during the half hour or so it took for her to stroll home, she thought of Jason Larson. It was as though she were riding on the back of his Harley with both their hair blowing in the sweet Melbourne breeze.
She could see him so clearly, above her as they would be in bed, in the grey shadows of whatever time day or night, fucking endlessly. Slowly, as they held each other, him moving so sensually in and out of her or ramming it home, masterfully plowing into her in the most incredible contact she had ever felt in her life where every stroke was electrifying.
Every glide was a potential catapult into blissful orgasm. Sharon was wet as she flew up the stairs to her apartment door, aroused and aching from the bitter sweet memories of the only true sex she had ever experienced. She was going to pleasure herself, shower, and hopefully fall into a dead sleep. She wanted to blot out the reality of her present circumstances, without taking a drink, pill, or other fix.
It was just dark enough outside that when she got inside her place that she had to turn on the lights. She nearly jumped out of her skin, for sitting there in her apartment, without invitation or expectation, was Lance Sanchez. Sharon shrieked.
"Baby doll," he said. "That sounds almost guilty." She thought she would have a heart attack, her chest drummed with palpitations. When she came back down to earth, she was furious. Her intent was to storm off to her bedroom and lock him out but he had other ideas.
"Come here," he growled. He closed in behind her in the hallway towards her room and loaded her up into his arms. His grip was tight and punishing. “No one two-times Lance Sanchez.”
"I don’t know what you are talking about," she said. "I don’t know—"
With one hand Lance fisted her beautiful silken hair and with the other, he gripped her mouth shut. "I think you know what I am talking about. Jason Larson? Marty told me all about how you two had a nice long chat at the gym. You’re going to pack up shop and quit that place first thing tomorrow, do you understand me?"
She couldn’t even think. She was choking on her fear and he shook her, physically until she was in terror that she was going to suffocate. "Do you understand me?"
Sharon wheezed. She gripped her throat and retreated to a place in her mind, calmly, so as to relax the constriction that had her gasping for air. She struggled, but she drew in through her nose and eventually her breathing stabilized. Once she was calm, she sobbed.
"Enough," he said. Her phone rang and he answered it. "Hi Polly what’s up?" When Sharon heard her name, her crying escalated. Lance covered her phone. "I will give you something to cry about in a moment. Would you like that?" She rolled her eyes, wondering how she got to where she was. She quieted. "That’s better." Lance and Polly talked some. "I am going to pick up your friend. It seems you left her to fend for herself. I will be taking this with me," he said, indicating her phone. "Maybe that way you won’t be tempted to talk to your ex."
Without even knowing she was going to, she blurted. "I am tempted right now!"
Lance pressed his face to hers, pressing her into the bedding to the point where once again she could not breathe easily. "I have never put my hands on a woman. This was the closest I have ever come. Do not make me change my track record. I will check on you tomorrow. When you come to your senses and we both cool down, you can have your phone back. Be good," he admonished, and kissed her on the forehead.
CHAPTER FIVE
Quit? thought Sharon. Maybe she would do just that. She wouldn't even go into Ink's, but Lance taking her phone meant that she would have to go there to cancel appointments for the day. She would re-route them to her place for the time being; Lance couldn't take that away from her. Her business was portable. She could do therapeutic massage and individual training anywhere. In fact, Sharon brainstormed that she could develop clientele among the wealthier population of the beach community.
She did alright at the moment because she kept it simple. Sometimes when she and Polly took a jog through what they called the "wallet neighborhoods," (people who could buy and sell the world ten times over) they had a running joke that if they got a little plastic surgery here and there to look like Barbie dolls, they could retire on their backs.
Polly always told her, "Man, Sharon, not that I am into chicks, but if I were as good-looking as you, I would score some rich guy and never look back."
Wouldn’t be so bad. Sharon wouldn’t mind selling out a little, massaging the occupations of the wealthy from their shoulders in exchange for a sweeter life. Money could replace the
men in her life for sure. She took a long drive through the wallet estates before she went into Ink's to quit.
She whirred by the mansions, the compounds, the estates, and thought—why not? She could feel her heart icing over. She was done. Through with being emotional, with men. She would quit work and then she would quit Lance Sanchez. Except that she worked really hard to put herself through school and for the last few years, the best part of her day was contained in the gym. She really loved it.
Sharon pulled into Ink's. Jason's Harley was parked up front. Her plan was to sneak in the side, get in a workout and a steam, and then quit. She was hoping that Jason would be locked away in his new office and that the two of them would miss each other completely until she was ready to let him know she wouldn't be coming back.
She stowed her bags and went right for a bench where she did some presses to work the stress out of her shoulders. She braced against the surface to bent-over rows. This was a provocative position, she knew. It forced her to flex her triceps and her buttocks, flatten her back, draw in her abs. She was pumping with the heaviest weights she could manage when she felt a warm hand on her back.
She knew from the electric surge that went throughout her Lycra-clad body that it was Jason. She rose slowly from the canted position that showcased her full breasts out her neckline via the front view and her firm full buttocks at the other end. He straddled the bench she was working from so her rump was all but in his face. "Sit," he said softly. As she straightened, his large flat hand danced across her torso.
Sharon spooned into the space between his legs, with her back curling into all of his chest. His cheek was next to hers. They were as intimate as they had been when he was telling her goodbye for ten years. It felt so perfect, so right. He was quiet and she had the strong sense he was looking her over. He traced the line of her face. Sharon flinched at the smart of pain.
"What happened here?" he demanded quietly. What good would it do to tell him that Lance roughed her up? Jason had just gotten out of prison. If he got in a fight with Lance he could go right back.
"I slipped in the shower," she said but she was an awful liar.
Jason clicked his tongue. Something about the sound made Sharon vulnerably hot. "No, no, no. Don't even try that. Make it easy for all concerned, and just tell me the truth."
"You have to promise—" she began. She did not want to start an all-out war between two motorcycle club chiefs.
"When I left you at the beach yesterday, your face was clear. And this morning, you don't walk in through the front door. You're out here instead of getting ready for your first appointment," His fingers traced the neckline of her workout tee.
Her nipples were hard instantly. He found them as quickly, covertly tracing his fingertips over them through the fabric before embracing her with his powerful arms. "Did you think I wouldn't notice?" His voice was soft as silk; warm and comforting.
Sharon raised her hand to his and touched him gently. "I will tell you the truth but only if you promise not to do anything about it. I am going to handle it."
"I won't like doing it that way but you have my word," he said.
"He knows you're back and that you and I have seen each other. He basically wanted to make sure I knew who I belonged to. He took my phone. I have no idea if my clients have called or not. I have no idea what my schedule is like today."
"I see. Well word is bound to get around, especially since I have—or had—one of his guys as a shift manager. And does he usually handle you this way?" Jason asked her. "Has this happened before?"
"No. This was the first time." Sharon reeled. She couldn't believe she was having a discussion about whether not her boyfriend hit her on a regular basis. "He told me I had to quit here since you own the place."
"Do you want to quit? I've checked out the files. You have quiet the business going and people depend on you. Do you want to up-end that?"
"No," she rasped. Her body relaxed completely against his. She was, in effect, giving over to him. She was completely ensconced in his protective hold. His warm, powerful hand drifted to the soft inner flesh of thigh. Sharon was this shy of inviting him into the locker room with her when Marty showed.
"Sorry to interrupt, but Lance just stopped by to drop off your phone," said Marty before retreated back to the reception area.
"Oh my goodness," Jason whispered. "He didn't even come in and face you."
"It's okay for now. It wasn't him I wanted to see anyway," Sharon said lustfully.
"Carefully, sweet, or I will be inside you before you know it," Jason threatened. He stroked her long, shiny hair before his palms glided across the globes of her full breasts. "And as much as I want to, I won't take your panties down until you straighten things out with him. If that's what you want to do."
Wanted to do? Every cell in her body wanted Jason Larson to fuck her. But it did bother her some that she would be jumping into his bed out of Lance's. There was no one in the gym at that moment except for the two of them. Sharon tilted her neck to the side and Jason kissed it, grazing the erotic areas that sent her through the roof. He lifted the elastic of her underwear and slipped a finger inside her wet, wet body.
"Let's go somewhere," she murmured right before she took his mouth, accepted his plunging, penetrating tongue. As she leaned against him, she could feel his hard response press into the small of her back.
"You end it with him first," he whispered. "I will be here."
They ceased; they took a moment to regain themselves before breaking it up. Sharon set up for the first of her clients, though her mind reeled with thoughts of Jason. She checked her phone, which she really didn't even want to touch. It felt tainted by Lance.
Polly made an appearance at the gym sometime after one. Usually she and Sharon connected first thing, but without the phone, that couldn't happen. Something was different about her, thought Sharon. She seemed evasive, or maybe preoccupied.
"Hey," she said. "Can you take a break?"
"Yeah, you want to go over to Lou's?" Sharon asked.
"No not really. I had kind of a rough night last night," Polly replied with a bit of a tone. By this time Sharon could see Jason hovering in his office, surveying their interaction.
"Really?" Sharon asked, perplexed. "Lance told me he was going over to give you a ride home. Did he bring to you what he was giving to me?"
Polly stepped back in alarm. "Excuse me?" Sharon stepped into the light to show Polly the marks, albeit faint, on her face.
"He got a little too emphatic about the rules, I am afraid," said Sharon.
Polly was incensed. "What are you saying—? He hit you, Sharon?" she asked incredulously.
Sharon's temper rose and she thought better to keep in check. "No, he just mushed my face up like he was wadding up a piece of trash."
"Well, maybe he was provoked. You're quite the tease," Polly told her.
That Polly would doubt her made Sharon almost too shock to speak. She simply replied, "I am not."
"You are," Polly insisted. "You wear your tennis skirts and your Lycra and you strut."
Sharon was defensive. "I don't show any cleavage. My neckline is up to here."
Polly countered, "Yeah but your shirt is like a second skin. I can always tell when you're cold. Heck, I can tell when you've ingested something. And now you have two men on the hook. Well it doesn't work that way. Someone gets left out and someone gets hurt."
"Which one of those is you?" Jason asked Polly as he stepped out into their conversation. "How do you figure in any of these?" Polly was silent. "You said your night was rough. Was that because you got into some trouble? You couldn't sleep? Or is it because you got your brains fucked out by Lance Sanchez?"
Despite the tension between Polly and Sharon, Sharon defended her friend. "Wow, wow. We are just having a disagreement here. There is no need for you to step in."
Jason continued. "Look at that," he said, shaming Polly. "She's defending you. You come in here like you are annoyed with
her but I say it is a deflection of your own guilt. How long has it been going on?"
"I don't have to sit here and listen to this." Polly clutched her purse. But there was no mistaking it—Jason was on to something. "I thought better of you, Sharon. I can understand being swayed a little because you haven't seen him in forever but you are engaged woman."
Sharon regarded her friend and was overtaken by the hurt of betrayal as she watched Polly squirm in the silence. The obvious didn't need to be said now and Sharon wasn't sure she could take it if Polly did admit it. Her best friend was fooling around, on what level she didn't know, with Lance Sanchez. As soon as she could speak, Sharon said, "If you have to go somewhere, I understand. We can catch up later." Polly's eyes filled with tears and regret. One of Sharon's client's stepped in the lobby.
"Do you need a lift?" Jason asked Polly. "Did you drive?" She nodded her head that she had. Ever the caretaker, he handed her a bottled water. "Sit until you feel better. Give yourself a minute before you get behind the wheel."
