by Lane Hart
“I think he’s our man,” Linc says to Jude, who’s already scribbled fuck yes next to the name Ace Lennox.
“Stick around, Ace. The rest of you heavyweights can head home. Thanks for comin’ out,” Linc says to the group, which grumbles in disappointment.
Guess Ace is our new teammate.
“Quick question, Jude,” I say from behind their seats while the coach checks on the guy Ace just submitted. “Did Patrick go out into the parking lot while you were covering for Susan?”
“Ah, no. Why?” he asks, while he and Linc both twist around in their seats to face me.
“Someone slashed my tires, and I wanted to make sure it wasn’t him before I kicked his ass,” I explain.
“Your tire was slashed in our lot?” Linc asks indignantly, getting to his feet. “That would have to be the dumbest motherfucker on the planet.”
“Tires, as in all four of them,” I correct.
“Son of a bitch,” Jude mutters as he stands, tossing his clipboard in the chair and cracking his knuckles. “I’ll kick their ass.”
“I don’t know who it was. Since neither you nor Susan saw Patrick leave, it probably wasn’t him. And, I mean, he’s not stupid enough to do something so childish and risk getting kicked out the day he starts training here,” I tell them.
“So who the fuck was it?” Jude asks, his narrowed eyes glancing around the gym full of people.
“No clue,” I answer.
“You think it’s about that article?” Linc questions, his meaning clear. Do I think it was a gay basher?
“It’s possible,” I admit.
“Maybe we need to put up video camera surveillance in the parking lot,” Jude suggests to Linc, who nods in approval.
“No way,” I tell them. “Don’t do that shit for me.”
“We need them anyway, probably will even lower our insurance premiums,” Jude replies with a slap on my shoulder. “You get back to training, and I’ll call a tow truck. Havoc will pay for your new tires since it happened in our lot.”
“I can take care of it,” I say. “The only reason I mentioned it to you was to make sure it wasn’t Patrick.”
“What wasn’t Patrick?” the man himself asks before I realized he had even walked up behind me.
“Somebody slashed Nate Dog’s tires,” Jude explains.
“It wasn’t me, asshole!” Patrick exclaims and the indignant red fury on his face would’ve convinced me if I hadn’t already figured out he’s innocent.
“I know,” I tell him. “Susan said you haven’t left since we got back.”
“That’s right,” he says. “Why would I do something so stupid?”
“That’s what I figured,” I say. “I just want to know who the hell did it.”
“Were any other tires in the lot slashed?” Linc asks.
“Not that I noticed,” I reply as the realization sinks in.
Someone’s intentionally fucking with me.
…
Alyssa
Tuesday night I walk Grayson into his class at the gym, nervous about seeing Nate, but needing to at least tell him thank you for his extravagant gift.
Glancing around the main floor, I look for him while Grayson talks to his friends. That's right; he called them friends, something he doesn't have a lot of, which is why I’m glad I agreed to let him continue taking classes.
Maybe I shouldn't have come in here seeking Nate out because my eyes can’t look away when I find him. He's in the cage with some other guy, who’s holding a black, foam shield. Wearing nothing but blue spandex shorts and black gloves on his hands, Nate’s sexy as hell. The way he moves his powerful body, throwing punches and executing kicks is so graceful, almost like a choreographed dance. Nothing like the feral lunatic he was Sunday in my front yard.
Turning my head back around, trying to forget the sight of him and failing, I step up to the counter and give in, buying all the items Grayson begged me to get him on the way over - a Havoc hoodie, gloves to wear at home and a mounted punching bag thing. He offered to use his savings, but I told him this would be part of his Christmas present since he, unfortunately, already figured out that there’s no Santa Claus. I'm actually happy Grayson wants something other than a new book. My son is the least materialistic child I know.
"That'll be one-hundred and thirteen even," the middle-aged receptionist tells me before I hand over my debit card. "I'll just need to see your license for verification," she tells me. Reluctantly, I pull out my ID and lay it on the counter next to my card for her comparison.
"What are you doing?" Nate asks, making me jump with his unexpected appearance behind me.
"Sheesh! Hey, I’m just buying a few things for Grayson."
"No, you're not," he says, picking up my card and ID. "I've got this, Sus," he tells the clerk.
"Sure," she says with a grin and a wink.
"You don't have to do this. You've done enough with the Death Star," I say. "Thank you, by the way. Grayson loves it."
"Good, I'm glad," Nate mutters while reading my ID. Uh-oh. "What the hell!?! You're only twenty-three!?! Why did you lie about your age?" he exclaims.
I look over to make sure Grayson is still across the gym and out of earshot. "I don't want him to know that he was conceived when I was so young before Austin and I were married..."
Glancing at my son and then back to me, Nate quickly does the math in his head.
"You were only fifteen!" he whispers in shock, causing me to cringe. Nodding my head toward his office for privacy, Nate starts in that direction with me following behind him. His broad back is dripping sweat like it's a muscular waterfall. Jeez, I'd forgotten how freaking hot he was without clothes on.
After I follow him inside the office, he closes the door and then crosses his arms over his chest, waiting.
"Yes, I was only fifteen. That's the main reason I lie to everyone about my age. I don't want Grayson to know I was just a teenager when I got pregnant."
"How old was your husband?" he asks, and I glance down, looking from his scrutinizing eyes to study the front of my high heels instead. "Alyssa?"
"Older than me."
"How much older?"
"A few years," I answer, leaning back against his desk to give my sore feet some relief.
"A few as in it didn't matter, or a few as in illegal?" Nate asks. Leaning forward, his hands grip the back of one of the guest chairs as sweat continues to roll down his chest and abdomen. I really need to stop concentrating on the way his perspiration travels over his sculpted body and focus on our conversation. What was the question? Oh, right, the age difference. I wince before I tell him the truth.
"He was nineteen."
"Jesus, Alyssa!"
"It wasn't as bad as it sounds," I say right away.
"Oh really? Because it sounds pretty fucking bad."
"Austin was my next-door neighbor. It started innocently –"
"And ended up with you having a baby at fifteen!" he exclaims. "Why the fuck did your parents agree to let you marry him?" he asks. "Or was that a lie too?"
"One of my ‘concerned friends’ told a school counselor who the father was. The school reported it to the police. My parents didn't know it was Austin until the criminal charges came and he was arrested. They were pissed, of course; and my dad was ready to kill him. Austin had no defense since a paternity test would prove beyond a doubt that he had been with me. So his attorney worked out a deal with the prosecutor. They agreed to drop the charges if he enlisted in the military and we got married. My parents signed for me to marry him, going along with it because they knew he wouldn't be around for the first few years. Everyone thought it would be best for the baby and me to be covered by him as a military spouse and dependent."
"And what about you? What did you want?" Nate asks.
"I loved Austin, I did, even though I was young and naïve. It's just, I didn't...I wasn't ready for everything that happened. The day of the wedding I almost didn't go through with it. Since I
was pregnant, I thought there wasn't really a choice."
"You were so damn young," he says softly. "You still are."
"I had to grow up pretty quickly. I lived with my parents until I finished school while my mom watched Grayson. When I graduated, I moved into the house Austin bought us." The truth is, my relationship with my parents is still strained because they made those decisions for me. I still let them see Grayson of course, but we’re been on shaky ground ever since I moved out.
“If he were still alive, I would kick his ass,” Nate says when he straightens up from leaning on the chair and crosses his arms over his glistening chest.
“You can’t help who you love, right? Even when it’s someone you’re told you shouldn’t love.”
Nate sighs and hangs his head. “Yeah, I guess not.”
For several moments, the silence says it all. Both of us loved someone others may have said we shouldn’t have, and both of us lost them suddenly. And in that moment, I think my feelings for Nate deepen because he’s been there and understands my grief more than probably anyone. Together we may have even been able to help each other move on, because I’m certain there was a spark between us. There’s still a connection I feel with Nate, and yet I pushed him away. Now, I long to be in his arms, knowing that won’t happen again.
“So I better get back out there,” I say to end the heavy silence.
“Yeah, um, thank you for letting Grayson come back,” Nate says, lifting his sad, grassy green eyes to mine. “I need to get back to work.”
“Training for the tournament?” I ask, because while I know I need to leave, I can’t seem to get my feet to move. They’re way too content to rest here with my ass on the edge of his desk.
“Yeah, it’s just a few weeks away, and the new trainer they hired is an evil, ass-busting Nazi,” he answers with a chuckle before he takes a few steps forward, moving toward me. My breath catches, thinking he’s gonna touch me. But then he reaches around me and grabs a towel from a stack on the desk to wipe off his face before swiping at the moisture slickening his neck and pecs. I stare, mesmerized, as the cloth in his hand moves lower, drying his abs and the indentions along his hips that point the way to his cock.
I realize that I’m licking my lips at the same moment I glance up and notice Nate’s gaze is locked on mine.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he says. Reaching for my chin, he grips it between his thumb and finger and raises my jaw to meet the other half of my mouth before I even realize it was hanging open.
“Stop running around without any clothes on,” I remark. It’s not my most intelligent comeback, but it’s hard to think with a big, sexy man towering over me, lust turning my brain to mush.
“It’s too hot for clothes,” he replies, stepping forward. And this time he does touch me, his hard, muscular thighs pressing against my knees.
“Yeah, it is,” I agree, wishing I could feel some cool air on my overheating skin. Which is ridiculous since it’s December and there’s a chance of snow later this week. The weather outside doesn’t seem to matter, because in this tiny room with this half-naked man, the temperature is approaching that of a heat wave in the Arizona desert.
“Take off your shirt,” Nate orders in the deep, authoritative voice so at odds with his unassuming sweet and gentle looks. Nevertheless, my body sits up straighter and takes notice, wanting to obey his every command. Only my mind seems to teeter on the fence.
“What…what if someone comes in?” I ask, my voice trembling with desire that’s competing fiercely with my common sense. That sultry part of me Nate created and owns is hoping he’ll force me to undress against my better judgment.
Moving so fast he’s a blur, Nate heads for the office door, sliding the lock into place before returning to me. Now, crowding the space between my legs, his hips force my thighs wider to accommodate the width of his body.
“Take your shirt off,” he repeats more sternly, and this time there are no excuses forming on my lips. My trembling fingers reach for the hem of my blouse and jerk the material over my head, tossing it aside. “Show me your tits. Now.”
My nipples perk up and tingle with excitement, and there’s even less hesitation in me when I reach behind my back and unclasp my bra, letting the lace fall forward and off my arms.
Nate eyes my bosom hungrily for several seconds before he’s on me, lips slanted over mine and both of his warm palms overflowing with my breasts. He groans into my mouth as he fondles them tenderly. There’s no doubt in my mind that, while he may have once loved a man, he also loves the female form. My feminine form.
The forcefulness of Nate’s tongue in my mouth has my back lowering until it hits the desk. With my palms gripping his neck, he has no choice but to go down with me, climbing on the desk and straddling my waist as our kiss deepens. Rocking his hips into mine, I feel the hardness of his protective cup instead of his cock between my legs, but it works just the same, applying the much-needed pressure.
Grinding against him right there, on top of his desk, in a gym full of people, is where I come apart without any penetration. Moans escape and fill Nate’s mouth as he continues to kiss me desperately. As soon as my body stops shaking, his lips move lower, spending some time pressing kisses to my breasts, his tongue flicking teasingly over my nipples. The wet stimulation is almost enough to send me over the edge again.
“I’ve missed you,” Nate says, resting his head on my bosom while both of us continue to breathe heavily.
“I’ve missed you too,” I admit, rubbing my fingers through his sweaty hair. “Was this your way of trying to convince me to keep seeing you?” I ask with a grin that he returns.
“Maybe. Is it working?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Good. So can I see you tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Grayson too?” he asks, making me sit up in surprise and remember where we are and where I should be. Nate rises up too but stays straddling me, his damp chest against my still naked one, preventing me from getting to my feet. “Look, I know you’re worried about him getting hurt, but he’s a smart kid. He’ll figure out we’re seeing each other eventually and wonder why we’re sneaking around. If he can handle losing his father, I think he’s strong enough to deal with our fallout…not that I ever want there to be a fallout, but still…”
“Okay,” I agree after considering his argument. Nate’s a good man; and despite my concerns about the fighting, I think Grayson couldn’t ask for a better role model. Maybe what’s been holding me back is the fact that I’m scared of getting attached and losing him.
“Really?” Nate asks with a smile.
“Yes. You’re right. I’ve already told him about us, and I don’t want it to look like we have anything to hide. We’re both adults…”
Nate’s lips brush over mine. “Thank you,” he says before he climbs down from the desk.
“Your new desk seems to be pretty sturdy,” I tell him while he picks up my shirt and bra and hands them to me.
“Yeah, but I don’t think we’ve thoroughly tested it out yet. Might need more experimenting just to be sure,” he replies with a grin while watching me fasten my bra and slip my shirt over my head.
“Maybe so,” I reply before hopping down. “So I’ll see you later?”
“Hell yes. How about I get a shower while he finishes his class, and then we can go to dinner?” he asks.
“That works.”
“You mind driving us?”
“Sure.”
“Good,” he responds before pulling me to him for another kiss and letting me go. “So, um, Patrick’s here if you wanted to say hello.”
“Are you two still being cordial?” I ask once Nate unlocks and opens his office door.
“Pretty much,” he answers. Reaching for my hand, he intertwines our fingers as we walk through the gym. “He helped me deliver the playhouse.”
“Really?” I ask, my feet coming to a stop.
“Yeah,” he chuckles. �
��The two of us can be adults. Why is that so shocking?”
“It just is, I guess. And again, thank you. Grayson loves having his own Death Star. He’s the envy of the neighborhood. But I can’t imagine how much you spent…”
“Nothing,” he answers.
“Nothing?” I repeat.
“Yeah, it was my Christmas present one year. And for eight or so years, it’s just been sitting in my parent’s garage.”
“It was yours, and you’re just gonna let him have it?” I ask in surprise, my feet halting. “What if –”
“Don’t,” Nate says, placing his finger to my lips. “It’s Grayson’s, and there are no strings attached. I just thought he would like it and that seeing him have fun would make you happy.”
“It really does,” I tell him, reaching for the side of his face and feeling the roughness of a few days’ beard on my fingertips. “Since the day he started taking classes here he’s been like a different boy, acting his age for once, so thank you.”
Leaning forward, I press my lips to his, intending for it to just be a quick kiss, but Nate’s tongue plunges ahead, seeking more, which I gladly return until the catcalls and whistles around us has me pulling away. My cheeks and nose heat up from the attention.
“I’ll see you in a few,” Nate says with a grin as he turns to walk away. “Be thinking about where you want to go eat,” he calls out while walking backward.
I think I know of a place.
Chapter Twenty-One
Nate
I was surprised when Alyssa suggested that we go to Dave & Buster’s for dinner, and even more surprised by how wrong she was about Grayson not liking the place.
After he had devoured his burger and fries, I showed him the Star Wars battle pod, which he loved. Then the three of us played a few games of Pac-Man together and even raced on motorcycles. He and Alyssa laughed their asses off when I tried to keep up with the dance game, and then we cashed in our tickets and paid a little extra to get Grayson a Star Wars backpack. The best part of the night was holding Alyssa’s hand and stealing a few kisses from her, nothing more than a peck on the cheek, but to do so with her out in public and with her son was huge, and I didn’t want the night to end.
