by KD Robichaux
“Great job, y’all,” Destinee says, and there’s a collective exhale throughout the room as everyone relaxes down onto their mats.
I bend my knees and sink down onto my ass, my heart thrashing inside my chest as the sexual tension and workout catch up with me. I sit cross-legged, risking a glance into the mirror to see Neil behind me, staring straight ahead at me, and I blink and snap my attention forward, listening as Destinee walks us through a cooldown routine.
Unfortunately, it does nothing to cool down anything but my arms and legs, because everything from my mind down to the very core of me is still fired up, since I can’t get the look on Neil’s face out of my head. Even when she has us lie down and sink into a savasana for the last few minutes of class, I can’t relax into corpse pose and clear my mind, because when I close my eyes and even out my breathing, it makes me picture him even more clearly.
Chapter 5
Astrid
Neil and I don’t speak a word to each other on the way out of the class. I thank Destinee, telling her I loved it and would definitely be back, and then I’m busting through the glass double doors, practically running toward the staircase and feeling like a predator is behind me as Neil’s long stride keeps him on my heels at a more leisurely pace. I snatch up a white hand towel from the stacks at the head of the stairs, wiping my face and chest as I grip the handrail and hurry down the flight of steps.
My legs are shaky and weak, and I know it’s not just because of the hundreds of squats I just did in the barre class. I walk to the desk where Johnna is smiling as we approach, hurrying through the conversation about how much I loved the class, and I ask if they mind if I take the hand towel home, promising to bring it back on my next visit. She tells me that’s fine after giving me a funny look, and then Neil adds that he’ll put me on his membership account online when he gets home. With a quick goodbye, I’m out the doors and heading to his big SUV we came in, yanking on the handle when I get there, but it’s locked.
I give him a little frown as he approaches, hearing the locks disengage once his big hand is on the shiny silver handle. He pulls the door open for me, watching as I spread the towel on my seat, my face flaming with embarrassment, as I step up on the running board to lift myself into the seat. He closes the door as I’m putting my seat belt on, and soon he takes the place behind the wheel and turns on the truck. My skin feels like it’s crawling, being trapped inside the enclosed space with him, but not in the uncomfortable, creepy way. In a “he’s so close and all I want to do is jump across the center console and straddle his face” kind of way.
But I can’t. I’ve got too much work to do on myself before I can confuse my emotions by giving in to my desire. Our desire for each other.
I jump at the sound of his deep, low voice. “There a reason you needed to steal that towel, goddess?” he asks.
He knows damn well why I needed to take it with me. He saw the evidence up close and in technicolor not fifteen minutes ago. “I didn’t steal it. You saw I asked permission before borrowing it. And I just didn’t want to get your fancy leather seats sweaty,” I snap, and I swear it takes everything in me not wipe that sexy knowing look right of his face… with my pussy.
We reach the house in minutes, and I jump out before he can even turn the truck off, sprinting to the door and typing in the code, my heart racing as I push the door open and enter the house before he has a chance to keep up. Scout greets me excitedly, but I only spare him a quick pat on the head as I make it to the stairs before I hear Doc close the door behind him with a chuckle.
A fucking chuckle.
He’s laughing at me as I take the stairs two at a time, my legs trembling after getting their first real workout in nine years. I hurry to my room and slam the door closed, twisting the lock and falling backward against the cool wood, finally breathing out a huge lungful of air in relief. Locked inside. Locked inside for a moment to get my freaking bearings. And as I take stock of all my emotions, all the feelings coursing through me, the one that stands out above all is the ache I feel deep in my core. God, how I want that man, how I need that frustrating, sinful, delicious, protective, and soul-soothing man deep inside me, using his body to erase everything that came before him.
I need relief. I’m too wound up, feeling those sweet, sweet endorphins Neil had told me about before the class rushing through my veins. I push off the door and stumble over to my bed, feeling high or drunk or intoxicated—it doesn’t matter. I just know if I don’t get some kind of release, I’ll do something I’ll regret. I’ll do something to ruin all the progress I’ve made in the past two days.
I open my bedside table drawer and lift out the makeup bag I have stored there, opening up to reveal it contains something much different that a bunch of cosmetics.
My vibrator falls into the palm of my hand as I turn the bag over, and I grip it like it’s the holy grail. And I don’t care I’m a sweaty mess. I don’t care that my ponytail clings to my neck, that sweat still drips between my breasts. I yank down my workout shorts and my panties in one move and step out of my flip-flops, clambering up on top of my bed covers and pushing the button to turn my little savior on.
I take the tiny silver bullet between my fingertips of my right hand, reach down between my legs with my left, and pull back my hood, feeling how embarrassingly wet I am and having to readjust to get a better grip to expose my clit. And when I touch the vibrator right… there, I have to turn my face into my pillow to muffle the long, relieved moan that leaves from deep within my chest. My toes curl into my comforter as my head presses back into the pillow, and images fill my mind as my eyes squeeze closed, shutting out the room around me and the fact that I’m alone. My head instantly transports me back, back to the first time, the only time I got to experience Neil’s kiss, one year ago.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I mumble, seeing Scout, Neil’s Australian shepherd, watching me as I slip my sneakers on and tie the laces. “I’ll be back before your daddy even gets out of his session. I just need a few things from my apartment.” I roll my eyes. “Maybe I’ll find my sanity while I’m there, seeing how I’ve now resorted to talking to a damn dog.”
I texted Neil, asking when his appointments would be through for the day. He said an emergency session had been booked and he wouldn’t be home until sixish. A new shipment of my products had been delivered to my apartment this morning, and I need to package up a few orders today so Neil can take them to the post office for me in the morning.
I toss my cell into my purse and then grab one of the several sets of keys hanging on the wall next to the door, this one with the least fancy emblem on the remote. I’m sneaking off with one of Neil’s cars, so the least I could do is not borrow the Audi or the one I can’t pronounce. The Chevy truck would work just fine for me, and hopefully he’ll never even know I used it. Why one man would need two cars, a truck, and an SUV, I’ll never know. But right now, I’m just grateful there’s a vehicle for me to drive instead of having to walk to my apartment. Even having a restraining order in place, and a security team keeping an eye on Brandon, I still have an eerie feeling, and I’ll listen to my gut enough to at least not walk the streets in the dark.
I hear Scout whine behind me as I open the door, and I glance back long enough to tell him, “Be a good boy. I’ll be right back,” before shutting him inside and locking the door. I hurry out to the truck, remote in hand, which I use to unlock it before I even reach the tall, black vehicle. Heart pounding, I yank open the door as soon as I grasp the handle, pull myself up into the driver seat, and then slam and lock the door behind me. I start the truck, letting out a nervous laugh and shaking my head.
“Calm the hell down, Astrid,” I whisper to myself. “He doesn’t know where you are.” But even as I say the words, I glance in all the mirrors, and even turn around to check the back seat for anyone who might be hiding back there, waiting to attack.
Feeling vulnerable, even behind the tinted windows and locked doors, I put the t
ruck in reverse then make my way out onto the main road. Within minutes, I arrive at my apartment and park in the underground garage. Thankfully, the space right next to the elevator is open. As I turn off the engine, I grab my purse and look around through the windows, trying to see if there’s any sign of Brandon hiding between the parked cars.
“You’re being paranoid. Just get in quick, grab your shit, and get back to Neil’s,” I say aloud, now uncaring how crazy I sound talking to not only a dog but to myself as well. The pep talk gives me the courage I need to spring from the truck, slamming the door unnecessarily hard as I bolt to the elevator, rapidly pushing the button over and over, even though I know it won’t make it open any faster. I press my back to the wall and face the garage while I wait, my breath coming in short, quick pants as my heart pounds in my ears, my eyes continuously scanning the parking lot. I keep the keys gripped in my hand, wishing I had brought some sort of weapon with me just in case. Being so used to never going anywhere, staying hidden away, I hadn’t thought of having to protect myself until this very moment.
Finally, the elevator dings, the sound obscenely loud in the otherwise eerily silent parking garage. I peek in, seeing it’s empty inside the car, and hurry in, pushing the button for my apartment floor. Anxiety fills me when it comes to a stop and the doors slide open. I step forward, leaning just my head out of the elevator to look up and down the hall. And it’s not until I see there’s not a single soul around that I finally relax. I quickly reach my door, unlock it, slip inside, relock it, and collapse against the smooth surface.
“Jesus fuck,” I breathe, feeling completely drained once the tension leaves my body. But I don’t give myself very long to enjoy it. “In and out,” I remind myself, and I start gathering the short list of things I want to bring with me before I go down to the office to pick up my shipment of makeup.
I go into the bathroom and grab the tampons I’ll need soon, knowing full well I’d be mortified if I had to ask the handsome therapist to buy me some at the store. He’s kind and easy to talk to and makes me feel safe in a way I didn’t know existed, but asking him to buy my feminine products is more than I could take. Sure, he’s an adult, and a doctor no less. But for some reason it seems like that’s something really intimate to ask a man for, something only a wife would ask her husband to do for her, and only if her husband was a special kind of guy.
Brandon had most certainly not been that kind of guy. My period every month was the only week I got any sort of peace. He wouldn’t even make me sleep next to him during those blissful five days, the mere thought of the blood disgusting him.
I shake myself out of the memory, leaning over the tub to grab my bottle of body wash. And that’s when I hear it.
Rattling.
What is that? The subtle sound of metal against metal coming from the living room. Almost like a key entering a lock, but not. More like scratching and tapping.
My heart pounds in my ears, nearly blocking out the noise as I slowly peek out of the bathroom toward the front door. And to my horror, I see where the sound is coming from as it ends with a click, the knob turns, and the door slowly opens. As the tall male figure comes through the door, I take a deep breath to let out a blood-curdling scream, but swallow it as soon as I see Neil’s handsome face in the lamp’s light. I grow lightheaded at the roller coaster of adrenaline and relief, emptying my lungs as I collapse against the bathroom’s doorframe.
“Jesus H., Neil. What the hell are you doing here? And how the fuck did you get in? I definitely locked the door behind me!” I squawk breathlessly as I sink down to the floor, plopping onto my ass like a deflated balloon. My heart feels like it’s beating a mile a minute.
He strolls forward until he towers over me, his bearded jaw set as he pulls a thin pair of tools from his pocket, wiggling them between his fingers before replacing them where they were. “Four seconds, goddess,” he growls, using the name he’s been calling me the last few days. The endearment warms my heart while his tone makes my blood run cold—a very strange feeling. “I opened your locked door in four… seconds.”
“You’re a man of many talents,” I murmur, trying to shake off the way his mesmerizing eyes penetrate me with his disappointment. “How did you—”
“There are sensors on all the doors and windows of my home. The moment you opened the front door, I watched you steal my truck on my surveillance app on my phone,” he tells me, and I instantly feel a pang of guilt. “When you disappeared from my cameras’ view as you pulled out of my driveway, I tracked you with the GPS I have in all of my vehicles. I was already on my way home, and pulled into your garage not even a full minute after you parked.”
I roll my eyes. “Hell, I’m surprised you don’t have a Go-Pro attached to your dog,” I gripe, swatting my hair out of my face, beginning to squirm under his laser-like stare.
“Micro-camera. In his collar,” he states.
“You’ve gotta be shitting me.” My eyes widen.
“Scout is a highly trained retired military working dog. And he can obviously follow orders to stay the hell put a fuck of a lot better than someone else I know.” His nostrils flare.
Rage fills me at that. “One, I’m not a dog.” I clamber to my feet, straightening my tank with haughty movements. His eyes drop to my breasts and then meet my eyes again so quickly I question whether it actually happened. Either way, his intense expression never wanes. “And two, you have no right to order me to do anything. I’m a grown-ass wo—”
His mouth slams down on mine so ferociously my body bows, and if it weren’t for his massive arm circling me, I would have fallen backward. He’s so fucking tall my face aims toward the ceiling as he devours my lips, and finally, as my mind catches up to put all of these different puzzle pieces together to realize he’s kissing me, I whimper and go dead weight when his tongue plunges into my mouth. He holds me to him effortlessly, his whole body wrapping around me like a cocoon. And while I feel so tiny, so helpless in the arms of such a giant man, even as he takes his anger at my insubordination out on my lips, I feel nothing but safe. Well… that and completely turned on in a way I never thought possible.
My hips rock against my hand, the image of that kiss on a loop inside my mind as it flows into and remixes with a much more recent memory. Last night, plastered to Neil like a second skin, feeling his cock so close that if I were to just gyrate against him, I could’ve come using the ridge it made beneath his thin cotton pants.
I’m so close. So fucking close. My eyelids hurt I’m squeezing them shut so tightly, trying to keep my focus on the man inside my head, his beautiful face with his perfect features, those neon-blue eyes, that sexy beard, those full lips I know—I know for a fact—were fucking made for kissing. My heels press into the mattress, lifting my ass off the bed to get closer to the vibration, my heart hammer so hard it’s surely leaving cracks in my bones.
And then I scream.
Not because I come so hard it rips from my lungs.
But because suddenly Neil is no longer inside my head.
He’s bursting through my bedroom door.
Chapter 6
Doc
I watch her scamper away, not even pausing to give Scout her usual hello of a full-body hug and kisses between his eyes. Just a pat to his head as she runs past him and up the stairs before slamming her bedroom door behind her. I grin to myself, closing the door behind me, listening for her door to reopen within moments, because surely she hurried away to go take a shower.
My woman had been so wet, so thoroughly turned on from dancing for me. Sure, she was doing the moves that were instructed, but no one else did the basic barre moves like it was a fucking performance. She was doing it for me, because she liked the growl that came out of me when she was beneath me getting the water.
She might’ve thought it was because her lush tits were in perfect view from my standpoint, but it had nothing to do with that. Astrid Quill, on her bare knees, kneeling at my fucking feet—my goddess, the woman
I worship, looking up at me like I was her king—that was the reason. And then she taunted me, squeezing her breasts together, pushing them up until they nearly spilled from her sports bra beneath her tank. Yes, fuck yes, that was hot, but it wasn’t her tits that made me curse out loud with enough volume that everyone in the room could hear. It was that devious little smile, that wicked look in her eyes as she’d done it that had me growing harder than stone.
My cock found it’s apparent new permanent residence in the waistband of my shorts as we finished up the class, Astrid’s workout resembling more a private recital for me than just an aerobics class. And then she’d bent into that forward fold just as I sat down to take a breath, my head seeming to grow light since all my blood had flowed to my dick, and the world stilled. It completely stopped spinning as I saw the subtle but right there in my fucking face spot of wetness centered along the seam of her black shorts, turning the material an even darker shade of black than the fabric surrounding it. And I knew, my God how I knew, she was wet for me.
And then she ran. And all that did was set off the beast inside me that wanted to chase her down and take what I know we both want.
Then the towel, because she was clearly embarrassed by how wet she felt she was, not wanting to leave the evidence on my seat, when really, I’d want her everywhere, marking everything with her essence, combining with mine to mark it as ours.
And finally we got home, and I now realize I still haven’t heard her come out of her room to make her way to the smaller guest bathroom she claimed as hers even though I told her she was free to use mine. I pause, listening closely, expecting to hear… I don’t know, some kind of movement. But nothing. And I grow worried, wondering if today had been too much too soon. She’d conquered so much today. I’d seen more life in her eyes than in the past year combined. She went out in public, exercised, been around a group of strangers, made conversation with people she didn’t know… kissed my neck like it was a brand that claimed me as her territory when that women had brushed against me, and I pray she’s not now up in her room, having a panic attack after taking on so much in one day.
