Personal Trainer

by Mia Carson

  Greyson tiptoed around the room, and when he reached Belle’s pillow, he laid the rose gently beside her face so she’d see it when she woke. For a moment, he simply stood there and watched her sleep before he maneuvered to his room, kicked off his shoes, climbed into bed, and passed out.

  Chapter 15

  Belle’s nose twitched, and she rubbed it, brushing something soft nearby. Laughter echoed around her, and she winced when she sat up too fast and her head throbbed.

  “Damn, how much wine did we drink last night?” she mumbled, squinting against the brightness of the morning.

  “Why don’t you tell us, Sleeping Beauty?” Carrie called out. “And it looks like someone left you a present.” She glanced to Belle’s pillow before turning back to the kitchen. The sound of bacon frying reached Belle’s ears, and her stomach rumbled.

  She glanced at her pillow first and stared, confused, at the red rose lying there, tied with a red ribbon. She picked it up and twirled it, smiling as it caught the light. “Greyson,” she whispered. That man continued to amaze her as much as infuriate her. “When did he get in last night?” she asked as she groaned, finding her feet, and staggered into the kitchen. “And how are you all so chipper?”

  “You drank the most,” Mel reminded her. Carrie walked behind her and ran her hand over her shoulder before kissing her cheek.

  Belle grinned and hopped up on the counter. “Looks like I’m not the only one with the love bug.”

  Carrie laughed, and Mel shrugged as she cooked the bacon. “It’s in the air, I guess.”

  “Must be,” she agreed, staring at her rose. “Is he awake yet?”

  “Nah, but I’d let him sleep. He’s grumpy if he wakes up too early after a night of drinking,” Molly told her. “We’ll get him up before we head out in an hour.”

  Belle pouted. “You have to leave so soon?”

  “Mom’s expecting us sometime today,” Mel told her. “We have plans later.”

  “Oh, right, of course you do,” she said and tried not to sound saddened by it. She’d enjoyed their girl talk, and it’d been nice to get her worries off her chest, though their advice wasn’t all that complicated. By the end of the night, all three girls told Belle just to go for it—what was the worst that could happen?

  Molly hopped up on the counter beside her and threw her arm over Belle’s shoulder. “We’re just a phone call away, but you got this. We gave you plenty of help in that department.”

  Belle’s mind flashed to her sexy reflection in the mirror. “Yeah, I guess you did. Now, I just have to get up the nerve to use it.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Mel sympathized. “Alright, ladies, breakfast is ready.”

  They carried coffee and plates of bacon, eggs, and hash-browns to the table and sat down to eat. Just like the night before, the conversation flowed easily, and before long, Mel and Molly were heading to the bedroom to get dressed. Greyson walked out of his room, rubbing a weary hand over his face, and greeted them halfheartedly.

  “Morning,” he said through a yawn to Belle and Carrie.

  Carrie smiled and excused herself, leaving Belle alone with Greyson. He poured himself a cup of coffee and breathed it in, turning to face Belle. She fiddled with the rose on the table, and his lips twitched in a grin.

  “Thanks for the rose,” she said shyly.

  “You’re welcome. Sorry I forgot Valentine’s Day. I'm not used to having anyone around,” he said quietly.

  “And now?” she asked.

  “Now what?”

  “Are you used to having someone around?” she asked and held her breath.

  He set his coffee down, and she wished he was shirtless like yesterday morning as he stalked across the kitchen towards her. He bent and nuzzled her neck until goosebumps broke out on her arms, his lips kissing her sweetly.

  “I’m getting used to it,” he whispered, and she turned her head so her lips could meet his, but the kiss was brief because the three girls came back out, talking loudly. He groaned and pulled away, leaving Belle wanting to drag him back down, but not in front of his sisters.

  “We have to get to Mom’s,” Mel told him and set her duffel by the door.

  “You’re just going to leave this mess?” he muttered, staring pointedly at the living room.

  Mel nodded enthusiastically, but Molly was already moving with Carrie to clean it up. Belle hopped up to help, and before long, the living room was back to normal.

  “See? Perfect,” Molly said as she patted him on the cheek. “Oh, and by the way, Mom wanted us to ask you to come to Dad’s gravesite with us.”

  Greyson’s face turned to stone. “What?”

  “You heard me, so don’t act like you didn’t,” Molly told him. “You know you should go, if not for him then at least for her. Just come with us, please?”

  Belle glanced between the twins and Greyson, the tension so thick she feared she wouldn’t be able to walk through it.

  “I’m not going. I already talked to Mom about this, so I’m not discussing it with you two.”

  “Come on, you can’t still hold a grudge after all this time?” Mel asked, exasperated. “It won’t be that bad. We’ll go and sit there for a while, Mom will cry and get mad at him like she does every year; she’ll insist we talk about our lives, and we’ll pour whiskey on his grave and leave. Simple.”

  Greyson crossed his arms over his chest and glared. “No. I said no, and I’m going to keep saying no, so just let it go.”

  Belle’s hands twitched at her sides. She knew that it was a family matter and that she should keep her mouth shut, but the fact that she didn’t have graves to visit for her parents—if they were dead—drove her mouth to open. “Greyson, maybe you should listen to them.”

  His heated gaze turned to her, and the temperature plummeted in the room. “What?”

  “I think you should go with them,” she said louder and planted her feet. “There’s no reason not to. Just do it for your Mom. What will it hurt, honestly?”

  “You don’t know what that man did,” Greyson snapped. “He doesn’t deserve a minute of my time, dead or not. And I sure as hell am not going to pay my respects to him. Not now, not ever, so stop insisting on something you don’t understand.”

  Belle’s anger grew, and she glowered at him. “I don’t understand? What don’t I understand? He’s your dad. Just go and see his damn grave and stop running scared from a dead guy!”

  Molly, Mel, and Carrie all stood in silence, watching, but Belle hardly noticed them.

  Greyson’s arms fell to his sides, and he moved closer. “I’m not running scared,” he growled. “I’m not scared of anything, least of all that bastard.”

  “Not scared of anything, that’s rich,” she bit off sharply. “If you’re not scared, then why won’t you go? Why do you keep hiding and making excuses?”

  He lifted his hands, clenched them towards her as he growled in annoyance, and turned away. “Just let it go, Belle.”

  “No, I won’t. Your sisters want you to go, your mom wants you to go, so just do it!”

  “You don’t understand because you’ve never had a damn family!” he yelled as he turned back around, stomping over until he was right in her face. “You don’t know what it’s like to have a parent not care about you and treat you like shit for years! You don’t understand any of that because you never had parents!”

  Mel and Molly both snapped at him, and Carrie gasped, rushing to stand by Belle, but she held up her hand, her eyes on Greyson’s as she sucked in a deep breath. Her hand curled into a fist and before she could manage to count to ten, she hauled it back and decked him.

  The twins gasped as Greyson’s head shot to the side, but his feet didn’t move. When his head turned back around, his eyes warred between anger, worry, and sheer panic.

  “You bastard,” she hissed. “You’re right, I don’t have a family and I certainly don’t know what it feels like to be thrown out like trash by your parents.”

  He
lifted a hand and rubbed his jaw. “I thought you said you never tried to find them.”

  Tears welled in her eyes, but she angrily brushed them away before they could fall. “I found out that they dumped me at the local church, like a donation, when I was born, so no, I never looked for them. What’s the point when you’re not wanted? But I guess you’d know more about that than me.”

  She turned on her heel and told Carrie she was catching a ride back to campus with her. Molly and Mel muttered to Greyson, but he threw his hands up and stormed off to his office, slamming the door behind him. Within twenty minutes, Belle was packed and ready to go. Mel and Molly helped load everything into Carrie’s car, and Belle walked out of Greyson’s house, carrying the rose he left on her pillow, wondering if she’d be back.

  For days, Greyson puttered around his house a wreck, staring blankly at Belle’s favorite places to sit and work, read, even take naps when the pain meds got to her in the early days. He’d run his hand across the couch and picture her there, smiling when she saw him walk in. The bruise on his jaw faded, but he wished it hadn’t.

  She was right. Everything she’d told him was right, and he’d been a jackass. All she wanted was to help him get over his past with his dad and what did he do? Rub it in her face that she was an orphan because her parents chose to leave her.

  He didn’t text her the first day, but every day since, he'd picked up his cell first thing in the morning and called her, leaving her voicemails filled with apologies and texts begging her to forgive him. He even said she could deck him again if it would make her feel better, but there was no response. Every morning, though, after he tried, he’d check his e-mails and find them already answered for the day, his schedule taken care of, and his online inbox filled with forms needing to be signed. Even pissed at him, she still took care of him.

  “I don’t deserve her,” he muttered Wednesday night when there was still no response. He ordered a bouquet of roses to be sent to her dorm room, hoping she’d at least give him a chance to talk it over. All day, he waited to hear from her, but nothing.

  He fetched a bottle of whiskey from the cellar and opened it, ready to drink away his idiocy and hope yet again that their fight hadn’t actually happened. When he sat down behind his desk, there were three texts from Belle. He fumbled with his cell, dropping it in his hurry to check them, and smiled at the first picture. She’d gone to the doctor’s office that morning, and her cast was gone. The break wasn’t as bad as they’d anticipated, and she was good to go. The second said by Monday, she’d be back at the office to work, and the third was a picture of her with the roses he'd sent.

  His cell beeped, and an alert for a voicemail popped up. He played it, leaning back in his chair to listen to the one voice he could never get enough of. “I know you’re going to want to call me the second you hear this, but please don’t. I'm not going to lie, I'm still pissed at you, but I understand why you said what you did. I know you’re sorry and I forgive you, though punching you again did cross my mind.” He smirked and rubbed the spot on his jaw. “I know this has been rough for us both and it’s new for me, at least, and maybe even weird for you, but when I start work Monday, I want us to move past what happened last week. Maybe we can pick up where we left off. Or start with dinner… I don’t know, and I’m rambling, so thanks for the roses, I love them, and I’ll see you Monday.”

  The message ended, and he set down his cell. She said not to call, but his thumb hovered over the redial button for five minutes before he reluctantly set his cell on his desk. He took the bottle of whiskey and walked out of his office to avoid further temptation. Monday. He couldn’t see her or talk to her until Monday. Until then, he would think of all the ways he’d make it up to her when she returned to the office and hope she let him spoil her without a fight.

  Chapter 16

  Monday morning, Belle wasn’t sure what to expect when she arrived at the office, but another bouquet of roses at her desk was a nice surprise. What wasn’t was the fact Greyson was treating her as just another employee again. They’d had a few moments alone in his office the first afternoon, but every time she moved closer to him, he’d start to lean in and pull back. By Tuesday, she purposely wore a sweater that clung to her curves in the hope of breaking whatever caused his courteous behavior. Her cast was gone, she was healed, and he should’ve been dying to tackle her, but he kept his distance again.

  He wasn’t rude and didn't ignore her, and one time she swore he was going to ask her back to his house again, but he fumbled the words and rubbed the back of his neck as his face flared red. He muttered something about a late meeting and disappeared for the rest of the day.

  Again, he was too scared to take the next step, and Belle’s emotions were torn between wanting to tackle him to the floor and leave him until he made up his mind—if he ever did. She couldn’t believe anyone could be this indecisive. They talked briefly the next day, and she suggested they have dinner that weekend, but the worry in his eyes told her he would find a way out of it. The bear of a man had hurt her, but it seemed like she was able to get over it easier than he could.

  Thursday night, she tore through the bags of items she’d bought from the lingerie store and made a decision. One final chance. She’d put the ball in his court and make him decide.

  Friday afternoon came and went, but Belle stayed content at her desk, working through the day. Greyson’s voice echoed out from his office, low and deep, washing over her skin like a heavy rain. It would be another hour before the floor would clear out completely and she could corner him. A note had been left on her desk while she was at lunch, asking for a dinner date, but the writing was not Greyson’s and there was no name so she tossed it, disappointed. If Greyson didn’t accept her challenge tonight, it was clear there were other men in the office watching her.

  Finally, Tim waved as he moved towards the elevators. The floor was empty, completely void of workers. Greyson was still on the phone. He had several later calls to make, but she wasn’t going to let him finish.

  “This is it,” she told herself. “You can do this. You want him and he wants you, and it’s time to stop playing games.”

  She stood and pushed her chair in quietly. Greyson faced the windows as he talked on the phone, not noticing her as she strolled into his office, closing and locking the door behind her. As gently as she could, she lowered the blinds over it and made her way around his office. When she reached the left side, he finally saw her and frowned, one brow raising in question, but she didn’t stop and didn’t speak. He followed her, swiveling his chair as she closed the last blind, giving them complete privacy.

  When she reached the front of his desk, she yanked her sweater up over her head, revealing part of the lingerie she wore beneath. Greyson dropped the phone and quickly snatched it back up when the person on the other end asked if everything was alright.

  “Fine, just fine… sorry,” he muttered.

  He swallowed hard, and she grinned as her fingers trailed down her body to the button of her jeans. She kicked out of her heels, undid the button, and dragged the zipper down, revealing even more. This was the one piece she had to have the day they went shopping, and when she kicked her jeans away, placing her hands on her hips, and spun slowly so Greyson had the full view, she smiled.

  His face was priceless.

  The red lace outfit had a halter tie around her neck. It connected to a lace top, cupping her breasts already growing heavy with want from his heated gaze. Two red straps wrapped around her back, hooking at the side. Another piece of lace stretched down her flat stomach, connecting to the lacy thong, with three straps going around each side to her ass, bared for him to see. The best part was yet to come, but he would only get to see that if they made it that far.

  “I have to… have to call you back,” he said hoarsely and hung up the phone. “Belle?” He rose and walked slowly around to the front of his desk but didn’t approach her.

  “I don’t know what game you’re playin
g,” she told him fiercely, “but I’m making you decide right here and now. Either you want me as much as I want you, or you’re just dragging me along for kicks. If it’s the latter, if you don’t admit that you do care for me and want this for both of us, I’m walking out that door.” He didn’t say a word, and her resolve faltered slightly though she didn’t back down.

  “I’m serious, Greyson. Our relationship might be crazy, it might blow up in our faces, but damn it, I think I’m falling for you and I’m not waiting—”

  Greyson was across the room and had her in his arms before she could finish speaking. His mouth captured hers hotly, and the storm brewed around them, surrounding them in heat and passion. In his arms, his lips crushed against hers as his hands ran through her hair. Belle knew there was a chance for love to grow. He kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth as his hands squeezed her shoulders before moving over her bare sides, gripping her hips as he ground his erection against her.

  “You had to wear this?” he growled, and his fingers trailed over the bands to her ass. “You’re trying to kill me.”

  “Maybe,” she replied and moaned when he sucked on her earlobe. “Greyson, I want you. I’m not going to wait, not any longer.”

  He picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her to his desk. With one swipe of his arm, he cleared everything off the top and set her on it. He nibbled her neck, then lower. When his tongue licked the mounds of her breasts, she shivered in his arms and pressed his head closer, wanting him to feel every inch of her raging for him. There was no going back now, no running away. He tugged the lace to the side and pulled her nipple into the warmth of his mouth. She gasped, her hands holding his head as he sucked and teased, lathering the sensitive flesh until she squirmed on his desk. She moved one of her hands lower, reaching for his erection, and when she felt it this time, there was no trepidation at his size, only a hunger to feel him fill her, to swell even more inside of her.