Jeremy walked in at that moment, staring between all of them. “So, what’s the deal?”
Madison handed him a plate with green veggies coating the slice of pizza. “Got your favorite.”
He stared down and sneered at it. “It’s got vegetables on it.”
“It’s healthy.”
“It’s a salad.”
“It’s mine.” Skye nipped between them and stole the plate. Then she threaded her arm through Veronica’s and walked her back over to the living room couch. “Let’s sit down and relax. We’ve earned it.”
Jeremy reached around Madison, his arm brushing hers for just a moment. And she held her breath, too afraid to relax and fall into him just a little more and startle him off.
That just about summed up her life perfectly. Afraid to breathe and scare Jeremy away.
Jeremy gave Matthew a look. “Staying for pizza?”
Matthew smiled back. “Sure am.”
Jeremy nodded and followed in Skye and Veronica’s wake.
“Well.” Madison lifted out a piece of pizza for herself and put it on a plate. No sense in giving Matthew one. He was raised by wolves, after all. “You two seem chummy all of a sudden.”
“Isn’t that why you invited me over?” Matthew blinked innocently at her.
“Shut up,” she mumbled. But he didn’t take offense. Just leaned over and gave her the kiss Veronica shied away from.
“I know, I know. Look, we’re cool. He’s a good guy. And he didn’t offer to rearrange my teeth, which I appreciate greatly. So I think my work here is done. Leave him guessing.”
“You’re leaving? You just said you were staying.” Sure, her intentions might not have been pure in having Matthew over to begin with, but she did love hanging out with him outside of work. “We don’t see each other much anymore, I feel like.”
“I know. But I was just messin’ with him.” He winked at her. “Got a hot date.”
“Ah, anyone I know?”
“Nope. He’s new.” He gave her another kiss, then headed out of the kitchen. Calling a brief good-bye to the rest of the gang, he let himself out.
Madison took her pizza into the living room and sat on the floor next to Skye.
“He left so soon,” Skye said, disappointed.
“Yeah, he had things to do.” Madison took a bite and let the delicious melty-cheese goodness engulf her taste buds. Then fought with a stringy bit that hung off her lip. As her tongue worked to get the rogue string of cheese into her mouth, she glanced up and saw Jeremy watching her.
Or, rather, her mouth. And not in the horrified, can’t you eat pizza correctly? sort of way. But the hungry, I want to eat more than pizza sort of way.
The way that had her entire body reacting until she crossed her arms over her chest to hide her hardening nipples.
And she realized the time for playing coy had reached its end. She gave him her best look right back.
The one that said you’re invited to dine anytime.
Chapter 8
He left. He just left. Madison tossed the last plate into the garbage can with flourish.
She’d given him her best version of come hither and he’d still balked. Stumbled out the door and off on his motorcycle into the night.
Damn him.
She was losing ground, it felt like. And it couldn’t continue. But first, she knew she had some ground to make up… in the gym.
With no better way to expend the pent up frustration clenching her muscles—plus the memory of the pizza she’d inhaled—she changed into a moisture-wicking tank, and her running shorts and running shoes, and slipped her apartment key into the hidden mesh pocket on the inside of the waistband of her shorts. Veronica was off to a movie, and she wasn’t going to leave the door unlocked. Then, feeling a little better already, she popped her iPod earbuds in her ears and skipped down her apartment steps and two buildings over to the twenty-four-hour gym. Yet another amenity that made her choose this complex.
It was almost empty, minus one guy using the rowing machine. Most people had better things to do on a Saturday night than work out. Madison couldn’t blame them. She’d prefer a different sort of cardio workout herself. A more horizontal one, one that included a partner. But alas, not tonight. She turned on her iPod and clicked for the songs to shuffle. After a quick stretch, she hopped on the treadmill and set a comfortable pace for three miles. Checking the time at a mile and a half—the distance she had to run for her semi-annual Physical Readiness Test, or PRT—she smiled at her good pace and kept pushing, working off the pizza before it had a chance to take residence on her butt.
Calories were sneaky that way.
As she completed her third mile, she grabbed one of the towels by the door and patted her face and chest dry, then lay down on the bench used for weights and lowered the volume on her iPod. From the corner of her eye, she caught her fellow Saturday night gym user walking toward the door, dropping his used towel in the basket. Finally, the place to herself. Using the overhead bar, she stretched out her arms and then relaxed, concentrating on her breathing pattern.
She sensed more than saw someone new in the gym, and she lowered the sound on her iPod in response. At least until she saw who it was and judged them.
“We need to talk.”
Oh, hell. She fought the urge to turn the sound back up—childish, she knew—and sat up slowly, engaging her ab muscles along the way. “How did you get in here, Jeremy? The door shut behind me and it’s keypad locked.”
He rounded the bench and stood in front of her, black leather jacket still on, helmet tucked under one arm. Aw, damn. Why did he have to still be wearing the jacket? And carrying the helmet? Her instincts struggled hardcore against the desire rolling low in her belly. Some people looked flat-out ridiculous when they rode a bike or wore the clothes, like posers trying to play James Dean. Jeremy just looked… right.
Jeremy pointed to his ears. “You wanna take those out?”
She held up the iPod. “The sound’s off.” But habit had her removing the earbuds anyway. “So you got in here how, again?”
“The guy who just left held the door for me. Nice security. You should warn the managers to send a notice to the residents not to let people in behind them like that. It’s begging for something to happen.”
She shrugged and pulled the material of her tank away from her stomach to air out the hot skin a little. Not that it did much good. The heat she was feeling was definitely coming from inside. “You have a point. I can always mention it to management. So that answers how you got in here. Now for the why.”
He laughed harshly and dropped down to the incline bench in front of her, legs splayed out wide, helmet in his lap. “Fuck if I know.” He stared out the large window of the door, as if the inky black night sky was going to give him the secret to his thought process.
She dragged the towel back over her face once more and then tossed it on the ground before standing up to shift weights. “If you’re just going to stand there, could you at least spot me on some bench presses before going?”
His eyes widened a little before he shrugged and stood to help her remove the forty-five-pound plates some inconsiderate jerk had left on before she got there and replaced them with twenty-fives, one on each side. “Can you handle this much?”
She could. Relatively comfortably. But because she was annoyed at his tone, she added another five-pounder on her side, watching him skeptically add one to his as well. “Just spot. It doesn’t require you to talk. Lucky for you, since you never seem to do it well.”
She sat down, adjusted where her butt hit, and then stretched out under the bar. Thanks to her short arms, she needed help unracking the bar, but from there, she gave him credit. He didn’t try to hold on longer than necessary to ensure she had her grip. Which would have really sucked if s
he’d added another fifteen on each side, rather than the five she stuck with.
Controlling her breathing, she looked up only for a moment and realized that at this angle, Jeremy’s crotch was right next to her face. A hip-thrust away from touching. And there was no mistaking, even upside down, the fact that he had a major pop-up tent going behind that zipper.
The weights shifted ever so slightly, and she knew if she didn’t pull her head out of her ass and concentrate on the task at hand, she’d hurt someone. Likely herself.
Sensing the shift, Jeremy’s hand went next to hers to stabilize. “You okay? You got it?”
“Yeah.” She blew out a breath, blanked her mind, and went for twelve reps, struggling a little on the last push. But she did it, and when he lifted to help her rack the bar, she managed to keep her arms from wavering.
“Not too bad, squirt.”
She sat up, forgetting for a moment she wasn’t even close to done with her normal three sets. “Why do you call me that?”
“Squirt?” He shrugged and propped one booted foot on the supporting bar below the bench, arms draped casually over the weights. “Tim does.”
“Tim’s my brother.”
His face darkened a little. “Yeah. He is. And maybe the reminder’s good for both of us.”
“For you,” she shot back. “I don’t give a damn about him being my brother.” Okay, that came out wrong, but in the context it made sense so she didn’t take it back.
Clearly, Jeremy knew what she meant. “Mad, it matters. It just does.”
“Uh-huh. I can see that.” She didn’t look down, but even from the corner of her eye, she could tell his tent was still popped. Big time. No hiding it.
He did glance down, and then shrugged. “So? You’re female; I’m a guy. You’re in skintight clothes. It happens.” The way his mouth pulled tight told a completely different story.
“Right. Okay then. You sure told me. My mistake.” Madison lay back down, but facing the opposite direction, so her feet were under the bar. “I guess if that’s just the end of it, then there’s not much more I can do about the whole thing, is there?”
“No.”
“You can go; you don’t have to stay.” When he didn’t move, she said something she wished she could take back immediately after she said it.
“I can always call Matthew for company.”
Quick as lightning, so fast she never had a chance to anticipate his intentions, Jeremy was over her in an instant. Covering her body from chest to knee. His torso rested heavily on hers, pressing into her breasts. One knee was propped between her thighs on the bench, his other leg down on the ground to keep him balanced.
“Call Matthew? You have to be shitting me.”
She said it. Now she had to own it. “He’s a good friend. And we have fun hanging out. Plus, he likes working out, and he’d be fine spotting me.” All true. Though once again, context mattered.
“He doesn’t want you. He told me himself.”
Matthew. What the hell? Worst. Beard. Ever.
“So what?” She thrust her chin out, defiant even in her vulnerable physical—and emotional—position. “I’m used to it by now. Men not wanting me.”
Pressing his hips down, there was no mistaking the hard erection nudging against her hip. “This. Does this feel like not wanting you?”
“I—I don’t know.” God, how was she supposed to think when he did that?
His mouth found her pulse below her jaw. One hand skimmed up her ribs to cup her tank-covered breast. “How about this?”
“Not sure.” Her voice was unsteady. “Maybe you should try it again.”
Jeremy’s knee brushed right against her core, now damp with longing and an inability to deny how much she lusted after the man right on top of her. “And that?”
“I…” All thoughts of even trying to come up with something to say fled when he dragged his mouth over hers and stole her breath with a kiss that rocked her.
Rocked her to the core.
Without hesitation, as if they’d been doing this for years, her arms wrapped around him, bringing him even closer, if it was possible. Keeping him there. Not letting him go. Not giving him the chance to put anything more between them.
“Jer… Jeremy.” Her breath was coming too fast. Too hard. She was going to black out if she didn’t get herself under control.
As if sensing she needed a minute to breathe, he skimmed his lips up over her nose, brushing lightly against her eyelids, over her brows, down her cheek to rest below her ear while his leg met her center in a rhythm that would have been way more fun without all the denim and nylon and spandex between them.
His knee and thigh rubbed against her, making her shudder without even trying. The man didn’t even have to freaking try and she was melting for him. Some small part of her brain was a little ashamed of that.
But not ashamed enough to stop what felt so freaking good.
“Madison. God. God dammit.” His teeth scraped against her lobe, breath hot on her neck. “Don’t tell me I don’t want you.”
She couldn’t answer, just hummed in response.
“That’s never been the problem. Never.”
Don’t talk about problems. Not now. Not ever. Just keep doing that thing with your—
She gasped, shuddered. But she didn’t want her first climax with Jeremy to end like this. Not by herself, not without him even making the effort. It was almost like cheating the moment. As if realizing she was on the edge of some cliff she couldn’t push herself over, Jeremy reached down with one hand and rubbed, just briefly, against the front of her shorts.
And she spiraled down the dark cavern into a pool of bliss, not even caring that she was coming in a public gym, where anyone could walk in at any time.
While her heartbeat returned to something that didn’t resemble cardiac arrest, she shifted just a little to let him know he was heavy. But she didn’t speak. Didn’t want to burst the bubble of intimacy—however fleeting it might be—that surrounded them in the quiet, dark gym.
The door opened, and a guy in his twenties walked in, only to freeze and stare at them with mild horror. “Dudes. That’s gross. Get a room, but wipe down the bench first.”
One bubble bursting, coming right up.
Madison gasped and turned to hide her face in Jeremy’s shoulder. But he took that moment to launch himself off of her body, and she went rolling from the bench to landing on the floor mat instead with a thud. Her shoulder jarred, and it took two tries to get her breath back, but it didn’t hurt.
“Jesus Christ.” Jeremy kneeled down beside her and shoved until she was on her back. “Mad, talk to me. You okay?”
The sound of the door closing filled her with relief.
Madison groaned and covered her eyes with one forearm. “I might die of embarrassment. But yes, I’m fine.” Sort of.
Did the word “fine” include instances where she just climaxed from dry humping like a fifteen-year-old?
Jeremy took her shoulders and helped her sit up until her back rested against the bench. “Sure you’re okay?”
She waved off his hands. “Yup. Not one of my finest moments, but I’ll live.”
Jeremy seemed to believe her this time and flopped down to sit in front of her. Silence surrounded them again, now that their bubble-bursting friend had left for less intimate pastures. Finally she caught glimpse of his helmet and grabbed it.
“I always thought you looked kinda hot on the bike.” She let her fingers trace over the lines of the thick plastic, over the visor, and around the jagged design that so seemed to define Jeremy’s personality.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I had all these awesome fantasies about you and me and the motorcycle and vibrations…” She realized she said all of that out loud and she
flushed, glad the light was too low to see for sure.
But Jeremy just laughed. “Sounds close to what I’ve been dealing with.”
Almost by silent agreement, they stood. Madison handed him his helmet back. Screw preamble. He just gave her an orgasm through her gym shorts. They were sort of past playing coy. “Do you want to come over?”
He took the helmet, rotated it in his hands, then shook his head. “I can’t seem to stay away from you.”
“So how about you not stay away from me in my apartment? Where there’s a bed? You know, the slightly more comfortable version of a workout bench?” she added as she nudged the aforementioned bench with her knee.
He smiled but shook his head again. “Just give me some time, okay, Mad? I need to think.”
Oh, no. No, no. No, no, no, no… “No.”
“No?” He took her arm and directed her toward the door. “What do you mean no?”
“Hold on.” She shook him off for just a moment to take the weights off her bar, wipe down the bench—smiling just a little at the memory—and toss her towel in the hamper by the door. Once they were out into the crisp night air, they aimed toward her apartment. Apparently he was walking her home.
“I don’t like the things you come up with when you think. You go too deep, make too much out of small things.” She turned and faced him, reaching her hand down low, feeling the outline of his still-hard cock in his jeans. “This isn’t complicated. I mean, it could be.” She grinned at him. “But we’ll save the gymnastics for another night. It’s sex. We both want it—and we want it with each other. Why make it more difficult than that?”
“Because what we do in the bed—or on a bench—might be just sex. But it never stays that way. There are other people to consider, other feelings. Other… issues.” He stepped out of her reach. “So give me time, Mad.”
Officer Breaks the Rules (Semper Fidelis. Always Faithful.) Page 10
