Get Wilde (A Checkmate Inc. Novel Book 3)
Page 6
“We’ve seen each other around.” Oz hitches his chin up at Grace.
She gives him an odd half smile. “Yes, we have. Um…” She shifts her feet nervously, and looks away.
My brow wrinkles. My sister is one of the friendliest people I know, and I’m wondering why she’s uncomfortable around Oz. Then again, Oz makes a lot of people uncomfortable. He isn’t likely to win a Mr. Congeniality award.
“We know some of the same people,” Grace says with an awkward tone.
Oz keeps quiet.
“And we bump into each other here at the gym from time to time,” Grace keeps rambling.
Red breezes through the front door with a large gym bag hanging from a shoulder. Her windblown hair is a magnet that draws my attention and won’t let go. She’s wearing more spandex. Lots and lots of spandex. Her black top has long sleeves and a high neck, but it fits her like a body glove.
I can’t help but let my gaze slide over every inch of her tight, hard, mouth-watering body.
Silence falls over us as she approaches.
Grace’s curious stare swings to me, then Red, then back again. “Um, I’ll get you a locker, Adeline.”
“Put her things in my office,” I blurt. No idea why. I’ve never offered my office to anyone but my sister.
Tension flows off of Red, and I assume it was because of last night’s kiss. Nice as it was, it was inappropriate, and it can’t happen again. She still doesn’t say anything. She just follows on Grace’s heels.
When they’ve disappeared down the hallway, I keep staring in that direction.
Oz lets out a low whistle. “Dude, not you, too.”
No idea what he means. “What?”
He shakes his head. “I’ve seen the same look in both of my partners’ eyes recently. Can spot it a city block away by now.”
“What look?” I so do not have a look. In fact, I’m the master of not having a look.
“The look,” Oz says. “And you’ve got it bad.”
I let my expression blank on purpose. “Whatever, man.” I like busting his chops. “Finish your workout and get out of my gym.” I wave him off and finish setting up the drills I want to go through with Red.
When she emerges from the hallway again, her hair is tied up in a messy knot.
“Ready to work?” I ask.
She shakes out her legs and arms. “That’s why I’m here.” Her voice is distant. Distracted.
So I step closer to her and drop my voice. “Red, I’m sorry about last night. I crossed a line.”
She jumps in place a few times to loosen up. She turns a hazy stare on me like her mind is a million miles away and she has to concentrate to bring me into focus. “Oh.” She shakes her head dismissively. “It’s not that.”
Well, hell. Maybe Red wasn’t as turned on by that kiss as I was. Maybe she didn’t spend all damn night thinking about it the way I did. “Okay.” I let the words slide through my lips slowly. “Is it anything I can help with?”
“No.” Her tone is flat. “I’ll figure it out on my own.”
I can’t help it. I want to help shoulder her load and pacify some of her worries. But I shouldn’t pry any further into her personal life than I already have, so I clap my hands and brace my palms on my knees. “Let’s go, then.” I nod to the series of squares made from rope that she has to jump through. “Show me what you’ve got.”
Maybe it’s just me, but everything I think or say to this girl takes a spin down Naughty Lane in my male brain.
Luckily, Red is more focused than I am, and she maneuvers the ropes like a champ. She’s quiet as we side-run figure eights around a series of orange cones. She’s all business as we push the power sled across the room stacked with a half dozen heavy weights. She’s performing like a machine, but something’s off. Something’s bothering her, and I want to know what it is.
Not getting personal. Nope, not me.
It’s late morning by the time we stop to towel our faces and down some water.
Her breathing is heavy, her expression defeated. She drinks more water, then swipes the back of her hand across her mouth.
“You okay?” I ask.
Her head pops up, and a line creases the creamy skin between her eyes. “Of course. Did you think I wouldn’t be?”
Well, she’s breathing pretty hard. “No—”
Her eyes widen. “No?” Her voice turns prickly.
Um. Hell. She didn’t let me finish what I was going to say. “It’s just that I set up a pretty hard course. I can dial it down if you want.”
“So you set up a course you didn’t think I could handle? Is this your way of making sure you win? Or is it because I’m a woman?” She clamps her mouth shut and studies a group of ladies jogging on the treadmills on the cardio side of the gym.
What the hell? I win on my own skill, my own ability, or not at all. “No, that’s not what I did, Adeline.” My tone is harsher than I intend.
Her eyes widen when I call her by her real name.
“I’d never use such underhanded tactics to win against anyone, regardless of which bathroom they use.”
I shouldn’t be offended. It’s been obvious all morning that Red is upset about something. It’s just that my Irish mother taught me to respect women, not take advantage of them, so I take what she’s just said personally.
Her eyes slide shut. “Look, I’m sorry.”
I fold my arms and give her a look that says I’m waiting for her to finish. Just like she’s done on more than one occasion when I owed her an apology.
A sexy pink blush seeps into her cheeks. “I’m sorry for being a dickette.”
We both belly laugh.
“I’ve…” She stops and chews the corner of her mouth. My eyes stay glued to that spot even after she starts speaking again. “There’s a lot going on right now with my studio, and I got some bad news early this morning. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”
I want to snatch her up and kiss the hell out of her until she forgets her unfortunate circumstances. Forgets the bad news and the douchey ex-boyfriend who screwed her over.
“It’s okay.” I give her a playful shoulder check. “You can count on me not to hold it against you if you want to be a dickette and vent. I’m reliable that way.”
She smirks. “I’ll take a reliable guy any day.”
Which is exactly why I’ve got to get Red and all that delicious spandex out of my system, out of my thoughts, out of my fucking shower fantasies. I’m the last guy on Earth she can rely on when it comes to the long game. And she’s the last girl on Earth I’d ever want to hurt.
Chapter Nine
“Mind if I take an early lunch break?” Red toes the ground with her shoe. “I’ve got an errand to run.”
We’ve spent all morning running circuits, so there’s no reason we can’t take a break. “Now’s a good time.” I pick up the orange cones and store them on the equipment shelves lining the far wall. “The lunchtime crowd will flood in soon and we won’t have as much room while they’re here. Meet back here afterwards to go through your drills?”
“Sounds good.” A fine sheen of perspiration is glistening across her forehead from the hard workout we put in this morning.
I can’t help imagining her with the same glistening sheen after a passionate romp in bed. That’s just where my mind goes with this woman. Swear to God, I’ve imagined Red tangled up with me in my sheets so many times that I should be a fucking expert on thread count by now. I refocus on my task, and keep putting equipment away.
Until Red puts her hands on her hips and traces a pattern in the rug with her toe, and I know she’s back to worrying about whatever was bothering her earlier.
I watch the rise and fall of her breasts. No one I’ve ever met makes plain black gym clothes look so sexy. She has sank back into deep thought, and I’m close to breaking my vow to not get personal.
“Any equipment I should set up while you’re gone?” I ask.
She shakes her head. �
�I shouldn’t be gone that long. I’ll do it when I get back.”
“Fair enough,” I say. “See you in an hour?”
“Great, I’ll just get my things out of your office.” Just as she reaches the hallway, Grace emerges. They stop to talk. They chat naturally, like they get along so well even though they just met yesterday. Red throws her head back and laughs, and it’s as sweet as a piece of my mom’s apple pie a la mode.
I finish putting away the rest of our equipment as Red disappears down the hall.
“Ethan,” Grace says, walking toward me.
Must be serious for her to call me anything other than lunkhead. I don’t take offense at the nickname. It’s just her sisterly way of needling me since I call her my baby sister, especially when guys are around.
She stops to let a couple of ladies pass who are heading to the cardio area. “There’s a problem in the locker room. Plumber’s on his way. I told Adeline it’s okay to—”
A young delivery guy who works for the service that washes the towels our clients use blows through the front door. “Grace!” His name is Andy something or other, and the anxiety in his voice is palpable. “I was unloading your order.” He points through the glass storefront where his delivery truck is double-parked. “And I realized I don’t have it on the truck. It must’ve gotten mixed up with another order on our loading dock.”
Shit. A Pound of Flesh provides towels to our clients as a courtesy, and we rely on the linen supply company to replenish our supply every day. Amazing how such a small thing means so much, but going the extra mile with the little things is how we attract members and keep building my business. The gym is about to fill with people who do power workouts on their lunch breaks. Sweaty members who need to shower off before going back to work tend to get testy when there are no clean towels at their disposal.
I start toward Grace and Andy to handle the situation. “Get your boss on the phone. We’re almost out of towels, so we need our order ASAP.”
Grace gives me a warning look, stopping me in my tracks. Then she smiles at Andy, and he all but melts. “How quickly can you get our order here?” she asks.
“I called our dispatcher, and your towels are headed across town.” He shoots a nervous look at me when I growl.
This time Grace glares at me. “Andy, do you think you could take a minute to drive me back to your shop so I can pick up enough towels to last until our order gets here? I’m sure your boss keeps some on reserve. You’re a linen supply company, after all.”
“Sure.” Andy’s blushing, and spending a few minutes in a delivery truck with Grace will probably make his decade. He looks at me. “Sorry, sir.”
She winks at me as he starts for the door. “Lemons to lemonade,” she whispers our mother’s favorite saying. “Showers are closed until the plumber gets here anyway.” She points to the glass doors. “I put up a sign to warn our lunchtime crowd. I’ll be back.” She imitates Schwarzenegger—another way she secretly implies “lunkhead” without actually saying the word—and follows Andy outside.
I chuckle, and go back to straightening the gym. I stop to talk to a few trainers and some of my regulars.
Finally, I head back to my office for a few minutes of quiet before Red gets back to the gym. I close the door and head to my private bathroom to wash up before I eat the lunch I brought with me this morning. When I had an architect design the build-out for this anchor location, I included a private shower and restroom in my office, so I wouldn’t have to shower with the masses.
One of the perks of being the owner and the person paying the mortgage. And it comes in handy at a time like this when there’s a plumbing problem in the locker room.
I start to whistle and push through the bathroom door only to skid to a halt.
Red, in nothing but a pair of lacy white panties and a matching bra, squeaks in surprise. A small stream of water is still dripping from the showerhead and the mirror is fogged up. Obviously Red has made herself at home in my bathroom. She’s trying to step into a flowing black skirt, but stumbles backwards when I stop dead in my tracks and stare. Her feet get tangled in the skirt, one leg in and one leg out.
Call me the master of quick reflexes because I dart across the bathroom and catch her before she cracks her head open on the tile floor. And, goddamn, all those toned curves and all that creamy skin is enough to make a grown man cry. Or beg.
I haul her against me to steady her. “Jesus, Red,” I murmur.
She’s not completely naked, but she’s even more exquisite than I imagined. And trust me, I’ve imagined plenty. My hands settle around her waist instead of letting her go.
“What are you doing here?” Her words tumble out in a surprised gasp.
“Um, I own the place. No one uses this shower but me.” My damn fingertips start caressing her skin like they’re in charge.
A shiver races over her. I expect her to back away and scramble for her clothes. Maybe yell at me to get out of my own office. Which I’ll absolutely do if she wants. Or I’ll stay and help her out of that lacy number because now I’ve seen enough of her to keep me panting after the rest.
She doesn’t move, which causes a storm of searing hot lust to riot through me.
“I have an appointment. Grace told me to use this shower since there’s a problem in the locker room.” Her pitch starts to rise with panic. “She was supposed to tell you.”
“She was interrupted by a delivery man. Guess she forgot.” My voice is gravel.
Red’s lips part, and she’s soft against my hardness. The best damn thing I’ve ever felt.
“Your plumbing is broken,” she whispers.
Slowly, I shake my head. “I promise you my plumbing works just fine.” My thumb finds her jaw and traces it.
She swallows. “You just made plumbing sound erotic. How do you do that?”
My hand drops to her neck and caresses. “It’s the view in my office that’s so inspiring right now.” My dick roars to life. This time there’s no thoughts of old wrinkly guys in the sauna. Just Red. Just Me. Right here, right now. “I knew you’d be beautiful naked, but you’re so much more than that.” My fingertips forge a trail across the creamy skin of her chest, and dip into the valley between her tits. Tits I’d love to see without the bra, pretty as it is. Tits I’d love to pull into my mouth and suck until she screams with pleasure.
“Technically, I’m not naked.” Her voice is raspy.
“Close enough. You’re fucking exquisite.”
She gasps when my prick swells to epic proportions and presses into her.
I chuckle. “Told you the plumbing’s just fine.”
“And it seems you’ve got an extra large pipe.” She’s flushed and breathless.
I growl and pull her into a smoking hot kiss, tonguing her mouth the way I’d like to tongue her pussy. It would be slick with her desire as she rode my mouth to a window-shattering orgasm.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispers then slants her mouth against mine for another desperate kiss.
“I know,” I breathe out between urgent kisses, backing her to the cabinet next to the sink. Those plump pink lips part, and I don’t just ease my tongue in for a taste. I devour her.
She kicks her skirt to the side, and sinks both hands into my hair. Tasting me. Taunting me. Tonguing me. Just as desperate and needy as I am for more. When her ass comes up against the cabinet, I lift her onto the counter. Her legs circle my waist and clamp to my ass.
I grind against her pussy, and she arches, pressing her beautiful tits into my chest. I trail hot, wet kisses down one shoulder, easing the lacy strap of her bra down. An incredibly perfect tit tumbles out, and it’s mine for the tasting. I dip my head and capture the pink nipple between my teeth and give it a tug.
“Ethan.” She says my name on a desperate moan, and she fists my hair in her hand.
A growl rumbles around in my chest. “You taste so fucking good, Red,” I murmur against her pink flesh, then suck it into a hard peak.
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She releases my hair, and her hands roam my shoulder, my arms, anywhere she can touch.
I find her mouth again and kiss her deep and hard. She angles her mouth to mine and I take the kiss from hot to smoldering with a few more swipes of my tongue. Her hands slip under my shirt. I hiss out a breath as her palms smooth over my abs. They tense and release under her touch, and I love the feel of her hands on me. It’s both pure heaven and torturous hell.
“You’re so damn gorgeous.” My voice is a hungry whisper. “And so utterly fuckable that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about having you since you walked up to me at the bar. I’ve had the dirtiest, filthiest thoughts about fucking you in every possible position.”
She quivers and quakes and practically melts in my arms. “I fantasize about you, too.” She feathers hot kisses up my neck to my ear, and whispers, “Especially at night when I’m in bed.”
Christ Almighty. Lust bolts through me so fierce and hard that it’s like an electric shock. I wrap her long hair around my hand and tug her head back to look into her lust-filled eyes. “Do you touch yourself while you’re thinking of me?”
She swallows, then nods.
Fuck me running. I tug her head back a little more so her neck is completely exposed. Then I sink my teeth into the soft flesh where her neck meets her shoulder.
She draws in a sharp breath of pleasure, and I place a hot, wet kiss right where my teeth were.
“Have you touched yourself while fantasizing about me?” she asks.
“Hell, yes,” I breathe against her neck and suckle and nip behind her ear. “Many times. You give good head, by the way. Those full lips of yours are made for fucking.”
She laughs and drags her nails down my back. “You have no idea.”
This is a bad idea for so many reasons, but mostly because I’m sure that fucking her just this once won’t be enough. I’ll want her more tomorrow than I do right now. One tumble with Red will only whet my appetite.
Her hands are still on the move and drop lower to the waistband of my shorts. It would seem Red wants to inspect my plumbing for herself. When she traces my hard-on with her clever fingers, my mind blanks and all of my sound reasons for putting a stop to this vanish.