Body Heat

by Mia Ford

  The driver pulled up to my apartment and stepped out, racing around the car to open the door for me.

  “I got to go, Graham,” I said as I stepped out into the sudden burst of New York noise. “I’ll call you later.”

  “How about dinner tonight?” Graham asked. “A celebration of sorts.”

  I hesitated. “I may have plans tonight.”

  There was a brief silence on the other line before Graham said, “Rain check it is, then. Just call me in the morning, we have lots to discuss.”

  “I will,” I promised. “Talk later.”

  I hung up and was making my way to the front door when a hand tapped my shoulder from behind. I turned around to see the driver holding out a copy of my book in one hand and a pen in the other, smiling like a bashful child.

  “My wife’s a big fan, Miss Maxwell,” he said. “I read it myself. You’re very…descriptive.”

  I suddenly felt like a porn star as his eyes ran over me. I quickly grabbed the book and pen from his hands and took a deep breath, swallowing the words that were stinging my tongue. I didn’t understand how some people thought that just because I was an erotica writer, it automatically meant I was some kind of sex freak. I scribbled my name on the first page and handed the book back to him with as much of a smile as I could muster.

  “Thank you,” I said and quickly walked away before he had a chance to start a conversation.

  Too many people. Too many strangers.

  I nodded at the doorman, then raced to the elevators, longing for the serenity of my apartment and the comfort of being alone. I clicked the close door button furiously as the elevator shut in front of me and began its ascent. I leaned against the large mirrored and sighed.

  It was a churn of emotions. If I was one to give myself credit for a job well done, I would be patting myself on the back for how well the TV appearance went. Even though seeing Chad was like having a ghost pop up in a haunted house, I managed to muddle through the appearance to everyone’s delight. Except my own. Still, my emotions were all over the place. I wanted to laugh, to cry, to scream, to celebrate. And I knew it was because of him.

  Chad Walters. The Chad Walters. The one I left behind, back in my life after all these years. And hot as fuck. And we were having dinner tonight. I bit my lip again, wondering what the hell I was thinking. Was this a good idea? How the hell was the night going to play out anyway?

  I suddenly remembered that he had a copy of my book, and closed my eyes in silent agony. Knowing Chad, if he was anything like the man I remembered, he was probably going to use it as a door stop. The only thing Chad ever read was Sports Illustrated and Fitness Magazine. But time can change people. If he actually sat down and read it, he’d immediately make the connection that the main character was based on him. That could make tonight incredibly awkward, me wondering if he read the book and him wondering if I had really just detailed our sex life in print.

  I rushed into my apartment, kicked off my heels and tossed the purse on the couch. I followed it, landing in the midst of cushions with a loud sigh. Every muscle in my body was tied in knots, and only then did I realize how tense I had been the entire day. My muscles were cramped like a full-body Charlie Horse. My feet felt like a dozen nails had been hammered into them, and my head ached like never before.

  Hot shower.

  I sat up slowly, pushing myself to my feet and making my way to the bathroom. My cellphone began to ring, but I ignored it, the thought of hot water over my body a stronger pull. I stripped out of my clothes, catching a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror, and stopped. It had been a while since I looked at myself naked. Being in the constant spotlight, and of course dating a married man, had forced me to keep in shape, and a small smile crept onto my face when I took in my reflection.

  “I definitely have something to offer, too, Chad Walters,” I said to myself.

  I turned on the hot water and stepped under the shower. I turned the showerhead around so that it was shooting jets of water onto my back, and I sighed with relief as the tension slowly melted away. My muscles immediately began to relax. A wave of relaxation took over, and I leaned back into the shower, letting the water rush over my head and down my body.

  With it, the day began to wash away. Gone was the anxiety from the interview and the book signing. I began to forget all about the hungry eyes that stared at me while I thanked my readers for their support, men and women alike. The memory of three cameras pointed at me, forcing me to think a rethink every move I did and word I said, slowly disappeared down the drain.

  All that remained was Chad.

  I closed my eyes, and for a second I felt as if I were staring into his. The air around my body cooled despite the hot water. I shivered, and through closed lids I began to imagine him undressed in front of me. Stepping into the shower beside me. His chiseled body, those strong hands caressing my side. I used my memory to fill in the blanks, and my senses just went along for the ride.

  I let my mind go wild, and my breathing became deeper, hotter, each detail of his chiseled body making me shiver just a little more. My hand crawled down between my legs, the tingling feeling that had been there earlier now strong as hell. It was begging to be acknowledged, and with the water rushing over me, I slipped a finger between my pussy lips.

  I groaned, holding the shower head tight as my body gave in. I imagined Chad’s hands there, between my legs, his tight body pressed against my back, his cock against my ass. I moved my finger, rubbing softly against my clit and moaned. I could almost feel his hot breath against my neck, his lips brushing against my ear the way it had when he hugged me at the studio.

  I slipped a finger inside my cunt, moving it in and out slowly, my body arching against Chad’s imaginary cock. I moved my hand faster, and in the midst of it all, began moaning his name. The water mixed with my juices, and boy, was I dripping. I slipped a second finger inside, imagining him turning me around and thrusting deep inside me. I pressed my feet to the floor and my back to the way, trying not to slip as I flowed hot juices all over my hand.

  “Damn you,” I moaned, imagining Chad smirking like he did so often after sex, saying “You’re welcome…” for making me cum. It was his way of maintaining control. And one of the reasons I ran as far away from him as possible.

  At that moment, I hated him. I hated how he stirred up these feelings inside me again, how age had not changed how hot he was. On the contrary, he had become even hotter, and I felt the burning inside me only intensify when I imagined his mouth on my nipples, sucking hard.

  Chad always had a penchant for the rough stuff. Squeezing my nipples a little too hard. Ramming his cock into me until I was sore. Tying my hands to the bed and slapping my ass so hard it left his handprint. He had these fur-lined handcuffs and blindfolds he asked me to wear. I’ll have to admit, I liked it rough, there was a definite turn-on for me, but again, for Chad, it was all about control. I wondered if he was still into it, the rough sex, the light S&M. I wondered if I would still enjoy it… I wondered if I’d have the chance to find out the answers to either or those questions.

  I slid my fingers from inside and rubbed my clit, faster, harder, my hips grinding against my own hand, the whole of me wishing it was Chad’s hand making me cum again. I could see the smug look on his face when he was in control, doing whatever he wanted to my body, making me squirm in his touch. My hand tightened on the shower head as my knees buckled, and before I knew it, another orgasm shook through me like a tidal wave.

  I leaned against the tiled wall, the hot water blasting against my naked body, my breaths coming in short gasps. I opened my eyes, whimpering with the reality of being alone in the shower, without Chad.

  I turned around and let the water beat against my breasts. The heat that had built up was slowly subsiding, and I quickly finished off and stepped out from under the water.

  I looked at my reflection in the mirror, the red in my cheeks, the flush across my breasts, the heat between my legs, the devilis
h twinkle in my eyes.

  I hadn’t seen the woman in the mirror in a long time.

  I couldn’t deny the reason she was back.

  It was Chad.

  It was always Chad.

  CHAPTER TEN: Chad

  “Earth to Chad!”

  I blinked, momentarily forgetting where I was until Martin’s fingers started snapping in front of my face. I was standing in the large space that was soon to be the New York City location of Body by Chad. The large windows across the front of the space and the dozens of people rushing past on the sidewalk made it feel like the place had welcomed in the public already, and it took a moment for me to fully come back from where my mind had drifted to.

  The truth was, I couldn’t care less about the space right now. I had gone back to the hotel with only Zoe on my mind, horny as fuck, and fallen asleep after a quick ice-cold shower that only made me hornier.

  I kept imagining her everywhere, with me in the shower, under me in bed, blonde hair falling over those magnificent breasts as she rode me like a cowgirl on a prized stud bull.

  I even contemplated ringing up the hot Asian girl behind the check-in desk just to take the edge off, but rejected the idea almost immediately. It wasn’t like me to avoid pussy, but I didn’t want my imagination tainted if the time came for the real thing… scary thought, that… me with Zoe, like the old days and old nights…

  I wondered if the years would only make things better or worse.

  Martin had woken me up way too early, and I would have throttled him if it wasn’t for how excited he was to show me the new place. He kept throwing clothes at me, telling me to hurry up and get dressed, practically pushing me out of the suite.

  And still, all I could think about was Zoe and our dinner later tonight.

  “Jesus Christ, it’s like I’m talking to a zombie,” Martin sighed, snapping his fingers at me again. “Dude? Where the fuck are you? Will you focus please? If you like this space I need to get the attorney to negotiate the lease. This is New York City. Spaces like this don’t stay on the market for long.”

  I slapped his hands away, irritated. “Sorry, just a little… preoccupied.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Martin asked. “We’re on the verge of making the biggest move this company has ever made, and you’re preoccupied?”

  I didn’t answer, knowing that anything I said was probably just going to be returned by a snarky comment I wasn’t ready to deal with right now. I let my eyes wander over the spacious studio space and forced my brain to focus on the task at hand. It wasn’t as big as some of my studios in California, but it would do, and I could already see the place brimming with workout equipment, loud music, and bouncing tits… lots of beautiful, bouncing tits.

  “So, this it is the best we can do, huh?” I said, still sounding like a cranky child who’d been woken too soon from his nap.

  “Yeah, this is it,” Martin replied, arms outstretched, shaking his head. “You have no idea how fucking hard it is to find space in this neighborhood. A little appreciation would be nice, buddy.”

  I smirked at him. “What do you want, a blowjob?”

  Martin sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. There were times when I got the feeling that Martin wanted to just tell me to go fuck myself, then he’d run the numbers in his head and realize what a huge pay cut that might lead to. He took a deep breath and tried to maintain his cool. I felt a little bad that I was pushing his buttons even though that wasn’t my purpose. Hell, I pushed buttons just by breathing sometimes. Welcome to Planet Chad.

  Martin gave me a pleading look and spread out his hands. “Just tell me what you think. Will the place do or not?”

  I walked deeper into the space, which was just a blank canvas, four walls, a concrete floor, and a low ceiling. It had been thoroughly gutted after the last tenant moved out.

  To help me focus, I started planning out in my mind where everything would go. In one corner, I could see a glass partition going up, the walls lined with mirrors for the Zumba and CrossFit classes that was the fucking craze these days.

  I imagined the smoking hot trainer I’d bring in to teach Zumba standing on a stage, of the throng of women in front of her, trying to follow along, most failing miserably, but all shaking their asses and sweating through their spandex.

  In my mind, the trainer looked my way and took on Zoe’s, then her clothes disappeared… big boobs bouncing on her chest… little vee of curls between her legs… fuck… I was getting a boner just thinking about…

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. I glanced down to make sure the hard-on was all in my mind.

  “I thought this would be a good place for the juice bar, and next to it the merchandise section,” Martin was saying, his hands painting the scene in the air. “I’m telling you, the women here are even more crazy about their looks than they are in California, man. We will probably make more in this one location than we do three in Cali.”

  “You think?”

  “Hell yeah,” Martin said, hands still cutting the air. “And over there, we can close that off for the sauna and Jacuzzi.”

  I gave him a thoughtful frown and nodded along. “Right.”

  “The stairs lead to a small space about the half the size of this one,” Martin continued. “You can close it off for the offices and a private sector for the really high rollers, you know what I mean?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And there’s a basement where we could set up a meth lab and make some real cash. Maybe work with the Russian mob, do a little sex trafficking on the side.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Martin pushed me from behind, hard, and I staggered before whirling on him. “What the fuck?”

  “What the fuck?” Martin yelled back, hands in the air now like an angry ape. “Are you fucking kidding me? What’s wrong with you, man? It’s like I’m talking to myself here.”

  “I’m listening,” I said defensively.

  “Since when do you fucking listen?” Martin asked. “You’re the one who usually does the talking. Why aren’t you talking? Sounds good? A meth lab sounds good?”

  “What meth lab?”

  “Exactly,” Martin threw up his hands in exasperation. “What’s going on, Chad? I thought you’d be excited about this? It’s why we’re here.”

  I blew out a long breath and shoved my hands into my pocket. “Nothing’s going on, okay. I’m just tired.”

  “Chad Walters does not get tired,” Martin shot back. He eased his tone and put a hand on my shoulder. “Listen, if you’re getting cold feet, we could just drop this whole thing. Head back to California and forget about New York. But just so you know, you’re not going to build an empire unless we do this. New York is the first step to the world.”

  “I know.” I sighed and shook my head. “It’s fine, really. I think it’s the jet lag. My brain’s just not firing on all cylinders today. Having a hard time focusing on anything.”

  Anything other than Zoe Maxwell. Everywhere I looked, I saw her face and gorgeous body. On the treadmill, in the sauna, lying on the weight bench, arching her back, tightening her legs, grunting as she pushed me up and down, up and down...

  All the time smiling at me like there was no one else in the place besides me and her. A part of me wanted to ring her up and have her come see the new space, but I knew that was a stupid idea. I had to deal with Martin first. I had to fucking focus.

  I looked at my watch, then buried my hands back into my pockets. I was acting like a high school jock waiting for the time to pick up his girl for the prom. I clenched my teeth, hating the way I was feeling about all this. That’s what Zoe did to me, dammit. She made me lose control.

  I hadn’t seen her for years, too long to even remember, and the minute she stepped back into my life, I was thrown off my game.

  Sure, I’ve thought about her.

  A lot.

  But it was always just a memory of something that could have been great, but had ended. I didn’t expect to s
ee ever her again, let alone feel like this. I was Chad fucking Walters. I didn’t pine away over a fucking girl…

  “Is it that girl?” Martin asked. “That writer chick. Joey something?”

  “Zoe,” I corrected. “Zoe Maxwell.”

  “Yeah, the one who writes the dirty books,” Martin said, eyebrows flexing. “You guys dated in college?”

  “Something like that,” I said.

  “So, what happened?”

  I frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you’ve had more women in your life than you could count,” Martin said with a knowing smile. “What’s so special about this one? Was she your first or something? Was she the one who popped Chad Walters’ cherry.”

  “That’s none of your business.” I looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Let’s try to keep this semi-professional, shall we?”

  “Wow, those are words I never thought I’d never hear coming out of your mouth,” Martin said in a huff. “I’m going upstairs to check out the office space while you stand here and mope.”

  “I’m not moping,” I called after him.

  “Well, you’re not acting like Chad Walters,” Martin said. “That’s pretty much the same thing.”

  I watched him take the stairs two by two and turned back to look at the afternoon crowd passing by out front. A few of the women glanced in and did double-takes, smiling at me, but I didn’t smile back. Martin was right: this was so unlike me, and I fucking hated it. I turned back to the studio and made my way deeper inside, standing in the area where Martin had suggested setting up the Jacuzzi.

  I pictured the whole thing. The steam filling up the room, the walls lined with pegs, the bubbling sound of the water. My mind started conjuring Zoe again, sitting in the Jacuzzi, head back, eyes closed.

  Get in here, rock star, she said with a wanting smile.

  Then I realized it wasn’t Zoe in my mind…

  It was someone else.

  The woman who helped me get over Zoe.