Trainer

by Marata Eros

  I hate that we've been set in motion.

  And I can't stop it.

  Opening my eyes, I find myself staring into his green ones, with only the glass of my car window separating us. They're so close, I swear I can see the darker green ring surrounding his pupil.

  Trainer doesn't speak.

  My hand shakes as I grasp the handle, and he takes a step back to allow me to exit.

  Standing, I turn to grab my purse and planner, then pivot to face him.

  Still silent, he eats up the step he retreated, right into my space.

  His raw size engulfs me, and I think to shut my door, but he cages me with both hands, effectively shutting it before I have a chance.

  My butt hits the door, and I look up, clutching my stuff like a shield. Maybe I can salvage some scrap of distance. Doubtful.

  “Hi.” I clear my throat and repeat the lame greeting.

  “Hi,” Trainer says back, but his eyes are on my throat… and lower.

  They sweep up suddenly, dark brown lashes framing those gorgeous irises. Though they’re prettier than a girl's, there's no mistaking Trainer for being anything other than all male.

  “Why were you sittinʼ in your car, Krista?”

  I look down at the cell still clenched in my fist and brush his chest as I slide it into my purse.

  We simultaneously suck in a breath at the contact, and my peripheral vision watches his fingers curl against the Fiat's roof.

  “Just answering a text before our time.” I try on a smile. It falters because Trainer's looking at me like a dessert he's been denying himself.

  “Gotta tell ya something else, Krista.”

  His words from yesterday flood my brain, but I nod stupidly, managing, “Maybe after class.”

  He shakes his head, and a long piece of chestnut hair escapes from a tie at his nape, falling forward to cover one of his gorgeous eyeballs.

  I have an insane urge to put that chunk back, and clasp my hands together over my things.

  He gives a sharp jerk of his head, and the tendril settles behind his shoulder. “Gotta talk about more bad shit. Be honest.”

  My heart goes into overdrive at this point. His nearness. The smell of him.

  More? My heartbeat speeds. “Have I done something wrong?”

  Somehow, he knows how I've been feeling—probably all the moaning when he was kissing my hand then kissing him back yesterday. Maybe I stared at him too long, flirted, or led him on. I don't know, I agonize. I hadn't been that obvious. I mean, before he told me… what he told me.

  We'd made progress. He had his twenty basic sight words memorized. Trainer was sounding out words without clenching his fists, as of yesterday. Victory.

  We did get something done besides all the other stuff.

  But now?

  “Kinda,” he says. “But I figure it wasn't your fault, just one of those things that happen.”

  Oh shit.“Gonna touch you now, Krista.”

  What? Oh—touch me.

  His eyes ask permission, though his words leave no choice.

  A sigh slides out of me, and my purse drops to the ground between us.

  My chin dips in acquiesce, but a moment later, my eyes rise to meet his.

  I don't have the first clue what he'll do.

  Then he does it.

  One large hand lifts from the roof of my car and cups my chin, running a thumb along my jaw.

  “Soft,” he whispers. “So soft.”

  “What?” I ask just as quietly, then he takes me in his arms and presses me against the front of him. My head tilts back, and he captures it with the hand that just caressed my face.

  His fingers dig into my hair, loosening the messy bun I carefully coiffed to look good for Trainer. Much to my shame.

  Trainer turns my head, forcing my face to where he wants it to be, and kisses me.

  Hard. Well.

  Sucking and pecking at my lips, Trainer grinds the front of himself against me.

  His stiffness presses against my belly, and I groan.

  Losing it.

  He takes that sound for what it is and wraps me tighter, eating the lustful noises as fast as I make them. I couldn't escape his hold if I wanted to.

  I don't.

  His tongue licks along the seam of my lips, and I part them for his entry. Trainer plunges in; our twining heat is all that I hear. All I know.

  All I want.

  A car door slams, and we reluctantly break apart, our chests heaving and gazes locked.

  I turn to look at the intruder then cringe internally. Allen. Nothing awkward about having a guy you've slept with catch you making out with another man.

  Nothing. At. All.

  He's striding our way.

  “Is he a problem?” Trainer asks, lust thick in his voice.

  “No,” I answer automatically, because… well, I never thought a lawyer could be capable of anything the “dredges” are.

  Just shows how little I know.

  *

  Allen slows as he comes nearer, taking in our flushed faces and swollen lips.

  He smirks.

  “Is this what we're going to talk about, Krista?” Allen swings a palm at Trainer.

  Trainer stands with his boots planted wide and arms crossed, saying nothing.

  I hate the way Allen looks at Trainer.

  Like he's worthless.

  That type of behavior is part of what's wounded Trainer in the past, and I don't want Allen, who has been given so much, to cause more harm.

  I can't stand it—now more than ever.

  Though I didn't notice at first, Trainer's taken a semi-protective position in front of me.

  Allen's not a threat. But Sam's right: he is a colossal ass.

  I touch my mouth where the heat of Trainer's kiss still lies, then let my fingers fall. “It's not what it looks like.”

  It's exactly what it looks like. But I feel like I owe Allen an explanation. We're not officially broken up, yet.

  “This isn't your business,” Trainer says.

  Allen's eyes slim to daggers pointed at him.

  The big body in front of me tenses.

  Shit.

  I quickly step around Trainer, meeting Allen halfway. “Things got carried away here, Allen.”

  He folds his arms, eyes still on Trainer, and I can feel his anger like molten lava behind me, running over me to get to Allen.

  “Really?” His smirk widens to a smug grin. “I'd say him jamming his tongue down your throat while he dry humps you against your car is really carried away.”

  I nod. Yes, it was a dumb move. A move I gave permission for.

  Why?

  Because I'm weak. And if I'm honest, I want to sleep with Trainer.

  Save him. Both.

  I shiver. Maybe I already love him.

  Clenching my eyes shut, I ask Allen without opening them, “I thought we were meeting at Starbucks tonight?”

  “I thought you might need this before tonight. You left it over at my house.” He shoots a triumphant glance at Trainer, at once dismissive and informative.

  My eyelids fly open, and he's handing me a bright-red peacoat, which I don't really need because it's June.

  I want to hate Allen for his asshole behavior, but I realize my actions have brought out the worst in him.

  Allen's just peeing in corners, giving me tangible reminders that we're still a couple. Even though we haven't been on a date in a month or slept together in six.

  He could have handed that off to me tonight. Hell, Allen could have given it to me when he stopped by unannounced at the beginning of the week.

  Now it's Friday, and he's back again. Doesn't seem smart. And Allen is a bright guy.

  “Thanks.” I feel embarrassed, caught and exploited in a miserable emotional lump.

  “You're welcome.” His pure-blue eyes peg Trainer. “If you couldn't figure it out, we're dating, Krista and I.” He wags a finger between himself and me.

  There isn't a hand
y rock to crawl under, but I wish one would appear. Now.

  “Doesn't look like she's dating you no more, Allen.”

  Allen smiles like a shark.

  Oh, my God.

  “Okay, I already told you I'll see you tonight, Allen. It's Trainer's time now.”

  “Yes, it does appear very much like it's his time.”

  Jesus. I push my messy hair behind my shoulder and take a deep breath. “Allen, it's not professional for you to drop by whenever. Not again.” I finally stand up for myself, despite my guilt.

  Allen cocks his head. The sun backlighting him makes his champagne-colored, carefully styled hair glow. Not in a good way. Like he's on fire.

  “Professional,” he muses, tapping his square jaw.

  “Fuck off,” Trainer commands.

  Shit! I had this handled.

  Keeping the brittle smile affixed on his face, he turns his attention to Trainer, and I can see he's not through.

  Not by a long shot.

  Allen spins on his expensive heel and strolls off. Casually.

  Like he didn't just see me making out with a student in the parking lot.

  As though the whole exchange was no big deal.

  Allen hops in his bright-red Porsche and spins out of the parking lot, spraying loose gravel from the pavement.

  Watching him go, I begin to shake as his sports car becomes a red dot in the distance.

  When the tears start, I can't shut them off.

  Trainer moves behind me, wrapping his arms from behind and crushing me against his body. “Don't cry, Krista.”

  “I'm so sorry,” I say, meaning it. I have some fit of hormonal shit, and I—what? Try to fuck it out with my student?He’s supposed to be able to trust me. Gah!

  More tears cascade.

  Trainer turns me in the circle of his arms, and I can't look at him.

  Shame rides me like a deranged monkey. “I'm sorry,” I whisper again. “You trusted me, and we were learning so well together…”

  “Hey.” He puts his finger beneath my chin and lifts it. “I can kiss you and still learn.”

  I shake my head.

  Then he's kissing me again.

  Oh God.

  Then I'm kissing him back.

  I pull away, drowning, trying to stop this thing that's between us. “No,” I whisper.

  “No to me?” He cradles my face, kissing the tears and bending down to rub his face along mine like a cat.

  “No—I mean yes to you. No to…” Then Trainer's dragging me to the classroom.

  When we're through the door, he locks it.

  Then he hits me like a ton of bricks.

  What do I do?

  Fall.

  Chapter 10

  Trainer

  I gotta tell Krista that I killed the last Arnie. Need to tell her why I'm even one of the students she teaches. That it's to look good for the courts.

  It's not all about the stupid dyslexia. But for the first time, it feels good to know that there's a reason I couldn't read. Can't see shit right. Letters look out of order to me.

  No fuckinʼ wonder.

  Still, the learning part is hard to really get, to take in, since I’m older.

  Krista tells me I'll absorb it naturally. “Don't be surprised if you dream about it,” she said a couple of days ago.

  I dream about her instead.

  Kissing her and touching that soft skin I got a taste of yesterday, moving in her body.

  Showing her what I want and need without words that fail me and don't say how I feel. That come out all jumbled.

  My body doesn't lie. And I want it to speak for me.

  I think Krista wants it.

  I catch her looking at my goods. Seen that look from plenty of ladies.

  But never from one that I wanted something more outta.

  I pull in to the elementary school parking lot and go through my day.

  Gotta go with the boys for a gun run tonight. Need to tell Krista the mess that I'm in. That I don't want her in… but I want her.

  It's a fucked-up mess of words, and my head aches with the effort of getting them all out in the right order. With the right… bullshit that goes with it. Don't know if I can.

  But Krista and Judge have made all that a tiny bit better.

  I catch sight of Krista's car and wonder about her being in it instead of the classroom.

  She looks tense.

  I search the lot, and nobody's here but me and her. I let the engine cool and think more about the words.

  Fuck it, as Noose would say.

  I swing off my ride and set the half-helmet, which I take tons of shit for wearing, on my seat.

  Mama asked me to wear it when I saw her half a year ago.

  I do it for her.

  Haven't been back to see her, though. Can't.

  Figure I might kill the next Arnie too. Got a taste for it now.

  Putting my hand over my eyes, I squint at the sun. Don't look like rain.

  My eyes find her car again, and I think I can make her out, looking at me.

  As I make my way toward her, my dick gets harder with every step. Not gonna be easy. This word thing.

  When all my body wants is to show her.

  Been trying to show her in small ways all week. Almost died yesterday with her on my lap. Thought my boner would snap off, it was so hard. Had to jack off twice at my place to just calm shit down.

  Coming to stand beside her car, I look down. She’s got her cell clenched in her hand.

  She doesn't turn and look at me. That's fuckinʼ weird for Krista. She's so open, I don't want her without me around. Maybe people see all that I see on her face.

  Everything.

  I don't want them to. Don't trust others. Bending down, I peer inside, and Krista's eyes are closed, like maybe if she doesn't see me, I'll disappear.

  Or maybe that's the Arnies whispering in my head. Sometimes they don't stop buzzing, and I want to cover my ears and squeeze my hands together until my skull smashes, so I won't hear them no more.

  Then her dark-gray eyes open, and she stares into mine.

  *

  I mean to talk, but I can't get much out.

  Because Krista's right here, with soft skin and beautiful hair that smells like peaches or somethinʼ, wearing just a T-shirt and ripped-up blue jeans.

  No fancy clothes today.

  And that's okay. I want to see her naked anyway. Don't care about packaging.

  I slam her door shut, softly pushing her body against the car.

  She seems nervous when she tells me hi, clearing her throat.

  “Hi,” I say.

  She says hi again.

  When I tell her that I gotta come clean, she says we should talk after class.

  I don't think I can wait that long.

  But damn, I lean in and take a whiff. She makes my cock hard.

  “Gonna touch you,” I say. But my eyes still seek an okay from her.

  Thought she wanted me pretty good yesterday, but some ladies give a man mixed signals. Especially a man like me who always thinks go.

  The only time I'm really free to be gentle or tender is when I'm with a lady. Their bodies beg to be taken but not hurt.

  I allow myself that time ’cause I don't have it any other place in my life. No room for soft in my life. Never before. Not much now.

  Her fragile jaw sinks a little, and I don't wait for words. I wrap her against me in one motion and kiss her.

  Krista Glass tastes as good as the first kiss—better.

  Diving in, I tip her head back, carding my fingers through hair like wavy silk, and push my tongue into her mouth.

  Krista meets me, twining hers with mine, and I press my hard-on against her, helplessly pushing and pulling against her smaller frame. Afraid I’m gonna come in my jeans. But when a car door slams behind us, I gently set her away and spin, my cock a raging, thumping nightmare, but softening as I take in the fucker who interrupted me and Krista.

  It's tha
t lawyer guy. Allen.

  My hate swells.

  Mainly because I don't know what they are to each other. Not for sure. Second, I get from Krista she's done on him.

  But why is this dog still sniffing around?

  I tuck her partly behind me.

  Don't know what he wants and like that even less.

  His words are the same as all the Arnies’; they're just fancier. He's one of them in a suit. Doesn't make him better.

  Allen doesn't think much of me. No big fucking deal.

  But I don't like the way he looks at Krista, like he owns her.

  I really don’t like that she's meetinʼ with this fucker tonight while I'm running guns for the club.

  When Allen leaves, I make a decision.

  Pretty easy after Krista falls apart and starts freaking out.

  I kiss her and take her, caveman style, back to the classroom to fuck her brains out.

  I think we'll both feel better after.

  *

  I turn away from locking the door and take in her flushed face and untucked t-shirt. For once, thank fuck, I manage words that make sense. “Tell me no, and I leave.”

  Tears streak her face.

  “Because I want to fuck you, Krista. If I can't have ya, I think I'm gonna die.”

  Or my dick will fall off.

  “Ya understand what I'm saying?”

  She nods.

  I wait, cock pounding, blood boiling.

  “Yes,” she says softly.

  I rush her, get to her in two point five seconds, and pick her up as I walk. Her legs wrap my waist. We get to the long brown table, and I sweep all the shit off then lay her down.

  God. I suck a labored breath in.

  Her hair's come completely undone and I have to… I scoop a handful off the table's surface and smell it. Bite back a groan.

  Smile.

  Krista gives me a tentative smile back.

  I move to the waistband of her jeans and unsnap them, jerking them and her panties down to her ankles.

  She makes a surprised yelp.

  “Gonna treat you good.” My eyes meet hers, and her face turns deep pink.

  “I know.”

  I unsnap my own jeans, freeing my prick, and it practically shrieks its relief.