His Gymnast (Dance For Me Book 3)

by Darcy Rose

  When she swallows, her throat tightens around me, sending one last wave of shivers through me. I remove myself and pull her up to me. I kiss her lips softly, then grip her hips and try to push her up my body.

  “Wait.” She lays her hands flat on my chest. “What are you doing?”

  I give her a sideways look. “Returning the favor.” Isn’t it obvious?

  She shakes her head and tries to roll off me. “I only did this as payment. You don’t have to return the favor.”

  I grip her hips tighter, locking her in place on top of me. “Payment? You think because I saved you, you have to suck my dick? I may be a monster, but I would never make a woman do something she doesn’t want to.” I narrow my eyes at her. “You wanted to, didn’t you?”

  I have to ask because now I’m starting to think I was reading her signals all wrong.

  “I—”

  I cut her off. “I don’t like liars, Aria, so be honest.”

  Her knees squeeze around me slightly as her mouth opens and her breath shudders. That’s all the answer I need. She did want to do this, and even more, she wants me.

  I let the conversation die and pull her up my body until she’s hovering over me with her pussy lined up with my mouth.

  No panties hide her mound from me, and it makes me smile. She’s completely shaved smooth, and I can smell her arousal. Pushing her down, her slit lands on my waiting tongue. My taste buds burst with satisfaction at her sweet taste, and I swear my dick comes to life again.

  I lick, suck, and nip until she takes over, running her pussy over my nose and tongue in long, fast strokes. It turns me on to see her taking charge and chasing her own orgasm, so I don’t stop her. I lie there, my hands gripping the soft flesh of her ass, as she rides my face.

  “I…” she starts between pants. “I’m going to come!” She moans.

  Before she gets the chance, I grab her and flip her onto her back, then crawl down her body, positioning my face between her thighs. I look at her, chest heaving, sweat slicking her forehead. “Come. Come for me,” I say, then dive between her legs.

  All it takes is a few strokes all the way from her clit to her hole, then back up before she’s coming all over my face. I lap every last drop up with my tongue until her body stills and her orgasm starts to die.

  I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand before moving back up the bed and lying down beside her. It’s almost awkward because this is the point I would kick any other woman out, but I can’t do that to her. I won’t. She needs me.

  Just as I’m about to start a pointless conversation, she moves closer to me and puts her head on my chest the same way it was before. “It’s been so long since I’ve felt anything so exhilarating,” she remarks.

  “Oh yeah?” I can hear the smile in my voice, and it makes me feel stupid. No woman has ever made me feel this way—so light and carefree. Normally, a constant storm rages inside me, but that storm is nothing more than a light breeze with her in bed, in my arms.

  “Yeah. The only other time I’ve ever felt that way was when I was performing.”

  “Performing?” I know what she’s talking about, but I don’t want her to know that I was already stalking her. I’m getting her to open up, and I have a feeling if I tell her my brother dug up all the information he could on her, she’d close right back up.

  “Yeah. I used to do gymnastics. I had a scholarship and everything.”

  “Why did you stop?”

  “I had an accident. It was my own fault… I landed wrong, tore my ACL, and fractured my spine.” I can hear the frown in her voice, and it makes me pull her closer.

  “How can it be your fault if it was an accident?”

  She shrugs. “I guess it wasn’t really, but after you’ve been told it’s all on you for so long, I guess you start to believe it too.”

  My hatred for her so-called parents grows by the minute. The only thing keeping me calm is knowing that she is safe now and her asshole stepfather is walking around with his face rearranged. “Is that why you teach now?”

  She nods against my chest. “But I don’t think I’ll be teaching much longer. All the parents are starting to take their kids to the new gyms they’re building on the other side of town. Ours is too old and run down, and Lisa, the owner, doesn’t have the money to fix it. It’s really sad.”

  “Sounds like it. But maybe one day that’ll change.”

  She lets out a yawn. “Maybe.”

  As she nestles into my side more, I wrap my other arm around her, and for once, I fall into a deep and dreamless sleep.

  9

  Aria

  This is so bizarre. It’s almost normal, sitting and drinking coffee in the kitchen, with the morning sunlight streaming through the windows. It couldn’t be any more idyllic if a big golden retriever came galloping into the room, or maybe a little kid or two.

  Wow. That is the opposite of the sort of thing I need to be thinking about when I’m around him.

  What’s even stranger is how relaxed Knox seems now, so unlike the man I first met, the man who kicked the door in to save me last night. I think I even see something resembling a smile when he meets my gaze over the rim of his coffee cup.

  I’m not going to sit here and pretend I’m the reason for this change, like making him come last night turned him into a puppy dog content to eat from my hand. He’s different for sure, though. Like there are two sides to him. I’ve already seen one side. I think I like this one better.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asks, dragging me out of my thoughts.

  “Very well. I was exhausted, and I don’t usually get a lot of sleep.”

  “How come?”

  Before I can think about what I’m saying, the words come out. “For one thing, there was only a cot in the basement—”

  “They made you sleep in the basement?” He sounds beyond incredulous. The old shame threatens to wash over me, but I won’t let it. There’s nothing to be ashamed of unless I decide there is, and I’m tired of that. I’m tired of not being in control.

  “Yes, they decided I wasn’t worth having my own bedroom. It all started when I got hurt. You know, back when I was doing gymnastics. The medical bills were astronomical. Things got really bad because of that.”

  “But they were supposed to be your parents. So, what? They used that as an excuse to treat you like shit? Like you were a slave or something?” The disgust and horror in his voice strike me as almost funny, considering what he’s capable of. If he’s this stunned, maybe things were even worse than I realized. Like a frog in a pot of water, that whole thing. Raise the temperature one degree at a time and they don’t realize they’re being boiled alive because they’re used to it by then.

  I got used to being treated the way I was. They wore me down enough over time that I didn’t bother trying to fight back anymore.

  “I guess they thought they had the right. I don’t know. I can’t imagine because I can’t make myself think the way they did.”

  “Trust me. I’m capable of a lot of things.” Yes, I’ve seen that for myself. “And even I know that’s fucked up. I should’ve finished the job.”

  I don’t know what to say to that, so I don’t say anything. I settle for sipping my coffee, grateful he broke into the house when he did. That I mustered up the courage to approach him in the first place.

  Suddenly, he checks his phone and stands. “I need to go out for a few hours.”

  My hands start to tremble. I have to set down my cup to make sure I don’t spill anything. “Do you really have to?”

  He hits me with a sharp look that quickly softens. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine here. This is probably the safest place for you.”

  “No, I’m not worried. I just…” I stare down into my cup, unable to put words to what I’m feeling. I’m not sure I want to be alone right now. Funny, he should be the last person I want to be alone with. It turns out, he’s the only one.

  “It won’t be long. Don’t worry about it. While I�
��m gone, you’re free to do whatever you want. There’s plenty of food here in the kitchen, everything you could ever want to watch on TV—I have all the streaming services. There are a bunch of books and magazines in my room. Make yourself at home.”

  I’m sure he means to calm me down, to soothe me, but it makes me feel more uncomfortable than ever, and I know why.

  “I don’t want to feel like home. At least not the one I’m used to.”

  “Shit. Sorry. I mean, make yourself comfortable. Eat whatever you want, use whatever you need. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He runs a hand over my cheek, stroking my jaw, and butterflies erupt in my stomach.

  “Have a good day.” He grins before heading toward the door, checking his pockets as he goes. The click of the lock reminds me I’m safe, that nobody will come in after me. Nobody even knows I’m here, and the house is completely nondescript. I’ll be safe here.

  Now what do I do?

  First things first. Knox didn’t make breakfast—not everybody likes to eat right after they wake up. I am not one of those people. The fridge is full of food, another way he doesn’t line up with the stereotypical bachelor image. I expect to find a box of baking soda and a few moldy takeout containers, but what I see is a wide range of foods, even vegetables.

  I fix myself scrambled eggs, toast and jelly, and a big glass of orange juice. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to do something this simple, to fend for myself the way normal people do. Maybe that’s why the food tastes so good, much better than plain old scrambled eggs have any right to be.

  Once I’m finished, I clean up the pan and dishes, then wipe down the table and the counters. Call it a habit. I have a hard time not earning my keep. It’s a relief that Knox is as clean as he is, though at least that would give me something to do with my time.

  Now what? I go up to the bedroom to find something new to wear. I can’t make the dreadful feeling in my gut go away—the one telling me not to touch anything, not to eat or drink. Not to feel comfortable in any way or I’ll get a beating. I force that voice away and remember what Knox said.

  One of Knox’s dresser drawers is filled with T-shirts like the one I’m wearing, sweat shorts, and sweatpants. The sweatpants seem like the best bet even though they’re still way too big. At least there’s a drawstring I can cinch around my waist so they won’t randomly fall down. I choose another clean, white T-shirt and knot it at my waist so it doesn’t feel so much like I’m wearing a dress.

  The bedroom is so quiet, like a tomb. I still feel sort of bad being in here, like I’m being a burden all over again. I can’t tell how much of that is normal and how much it’s me being brainwashed.

  One thing is clear, I want to know more about him. The sort of books he has in his room—history books, strangely enough—I wouldn’t expect him to care about that. The magazines are more what I figured I’d find—cars, girls, and sports. I don’t know why he thought I’d be interested in those, but it makes me grin anyway. He’s doing his best to make me comfortable.

  All of this only killed an hour. It’s weird, not having every minute of my day filled, and the thought of unfilled hours ahead of me makes me feel all antsy and twitchy. I’m going to have to get used to living like a normal person. Even when I was competing, I had a single, focused goal. Everything was about training, being stronger, faster, the best. I guess I’ve never lived a normal life, even before my injury.

  The sound of the washing machine finishing almost gives me a heart attack, but it makes it easier to find the thing and switch my clothes into the dryer.

  Afterward, I decide to settle in on the couch and veg out for a while. Knox wasn’t kidding when he said there’d be everything I could ever want to watch on television. He must pay a fortune every month for his streaming services. It makes me wonder how much time he spends here, all alone. It’s impossible not to think about him, to try to figure him out. I hate to think of him sitting here by himself, though I’m sure it’s completely his choice if that’s ever the case. I doubt he ever does anything unless it’s what he wants to do.

  After another hour or so, I finally start to relax for real. I get my clothes out and switch into my bra and shirt, so I don’t have to look at my bruises anymore, but I’ll leave his sweatpants on, finding them even more comfortable than my leggings.

  Cuddling back up on the couch, I try to relax. It’ll take time, but I have no doubt I’ll eventually be able to enjoy downtime like anybody else. I’ll need time to get over all the shit Mom and Dale put me through, but the fact that I’m even thinking about moving on with my life must be a good sign.

  My God. I’ll even be able to keep my wages now. My tips. The possibilities loom large in my imagination.

  “Shit.” My wages. That’s all it takes to remind me of my obligations—namely, my job at Laura’s Gymnastics. I jump up and frantically look around. I’m scheduled for a class this afternoon, and I know Lisa won’t be able to get anybody to cover for me on such short notice. I can’t even remember all the times I had to drag myself over there after a beating, covering the bruises I could and making excuses about the ones I couldn’t.

  I always had the feeling Lisa didn’t believe me, but she was too nice to say anything.

  I can’t let her or the girls down. I have to find a way to get there. My bag is by the front door, right where Knox left it. I have some money for the bus fare, more than enough to get me to class, and according to the schedule I look up on my phone, the next bus rolls through ten minutes from now just a block away from here.

  But I’m not supposed to leave, am I? What’s Knox going to think if he comes home and finds me gone? I don’t even have his number, so I can’t call him and let him know what I have to do. He would probably tell me not to go, but that’s just not going to happen. I’m sure I can handle getting myself to gymnastics and back.

  Still, I do have manners. I don’t want him getting home and freaking out—who knows what he would do if he assumed something bad had happened to me? So, I leave a note on the kitchen counter.

  I forgot I have a class to teach this afternoon, and I can’t miss it. I’ll be back in a few hours.

  That will have to be enough. As it is, I’m afraid I’m going to be late as I put on my shoes, grab the bag, and almost run out the door in hopes of catching the bus.

  10

  Knox

  When I make it back home, I almost jump up the steps, ready to see her. I never wanted to leave her, but I had no choice. Just because I have an infatuation doesn't mean my job stops. My family needed me, and I couldn’t say no.

  When I open the door, I’m expecting to hear the television, or maybe see her perched on the couch reading, or in the kitchen eating, but she’s gone. My mind immediately starts thinking the worst. What if the piece of shit I hadn’t finished off found her? I kick myself. I should have just killed him when I had the chance.

  My mind starts to calm when I look at the counter and see a note written in perfect cursive telling me where she went, and she’ll be back. My anger eases slightly, but the fact she’s out there without me—without my protection—brings it right back.

  I hurry back out of my house and slip back into my car. Nothing seems to matter as I haul ass to the gym. The only thing I’m focused on is seeing her. When I see the old run-down sign indicating I’ve made it, I pull off the street and park directly in the front.

  Luckily, I don’t have to wait long before I see her exiting the building. Before she has a chance to make it to the bus stop, I step out and yank her into the alley. “What the fuck, Aria?” She jumps at my booming baritone voice. “Do you realize you could have been hurt? That fucker could have easily found you and finished what he started the other day!”

  “I-I didn’t think about that, Knox. I couldn’t miss class.” Her voice is shaky and weak. I hate the way she’s looking at me right now, but I’m having a hard time reining in my anger.

  I almost feel bad for scaring her, but she needs to see the big
ger picture, the severity of her actions. Her safety is more important than teaching a fucking class. “What would you have done if he came here looking for you?” I ask a little softer, but I keep the edge to my voice.

  She drops her bag and crosses her arms over her chest, letting the scared woman I normally see melt away. “I’m sorry, okay? This is all new to me. I’m not used to someone caring about my safety. I already feel like I’m a burden, and if I don’t work, then I have no money. Plus, they needed me here. I can’t just abandon them!” she yells back.

  In the few days I’ve spent around her, she’s been a little meek. I’m sure it’s because of what she witnessed me do, but this is an entirely new side to her, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on. Most people are too scared to stand up to me. It's one of the things that make me so good at what I do. No one would dare yell back at me. I’m too intimidating. But her… she isn’t scared.

  It’s one of the first things I noticed about her and why I decided to watch her. Now all it does is make me want to fuck her.

  With the thought in my mind, I cup her cheeks in my hands and crash my lips to hers. Her hands shoot out beside her, searching for something to help her balance from my punishing kiss. As I back her up and her shoulder blades hit the wall behind us, she finally gives in.

  Her hands reach up and grab my hair violently. In retaliation, I bite her lip as a warning, but it only turns her on more. She presses her body into mine harder like she’s trying to get closer, but all of the space is already eaten up. The only thing separating us is clothing.

  Almost like she has the same thought, she moves her hands from my hair and drags them down my body. She pulls my shirt up quickly, breaking our kiss only long enough to take it off me completely and throw it to the ground. All I want is to feel her skin against me, so I break our kiss and pull the shirt—my shirt—from her body, leaving her sports bra in place.