by M. S. Parker
Fortunately, I didn't have to wait to see if she believed me or not.
“Stop keeping her for yourself, Dorian,” my father called from outside.
I opened the door and held it for Sara, giving her an exaggerated roll of my eyes. “Hold on, old man. We're coming.”
Sara laughed softly as she walked over to my dad and held out her hand. “Mr. Forbes, it's a pleasure to meet you.”
“Miss Carr, the pleasure is mine.” He kissed the back of her hand and gave me a mischievous look over her shoulder. “And, please, call me Max. Mr. Forbes is my son.”
I rolled my eyes. “She's too young for you, Dad.”
“Says who?” He grinned.
Sara looked from him to me and back again. “You two are quite the pair, aren't you?”
I pulled out her chair before taking my usual seat across from my father. Martha had really outdone herself with lunch. There were cold cuts and homemade rolls, fruit, salad, cole slaw, and three different kinds of desserts.
Home cooking was definitely one of the things I miss the most about going back home. Take-out was generally my lunch fare...and dinner.
“Dorian tells me that you're from San Francisco,” Dad began as he reached for a few apple slices.
“I am,” she said. She made herself a ham sandwich as she continued, “I moved there after my parents died.”
“I'm sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you.” She gave my dad a smile. “My uncle raised me after that.”
“What brought you to New York then?”
It seemed like I wouldn’t have to do anything except listen to get to know Sara if my father kept asking questions. When she finished with one, he brought up another. She answered easily enough, then fielded back her own questions. Though she directed everything to my father, I couldn't help but hope that her inquiries came from curiosity about me.
We stayed on the porch well after we'd finished eating. The weather was perfect and the view gorgeous. As much as there were things I enjoyed about living in the city, there was definitely something to be said for the tranquility that came from getting away from it all. When my father's health started to decline and he stepped down from running the company, I was surprised when he decided to live out here all the time rather than splitting time between the house and the city brownstone. I hadn't seen the appeal then, but now I could.
When I saw him starting to grow tired, I reluctantly cut into the conversation. As much as I wanted Sara to stay longer, I wouldn’t risk my father's health to do it. I meant what I said to her, about how I felt when I heard about my dad's heart attack. I wasn't ready to lose him.
“You need to rest,” I said as I stood. He glared at me, but there wasn't any fire behind it. “Do I need to get Martha out here?”
“That's just playing dirty,” he grumbled. He managed to get to his feet on his own, which was good because I knew he wouldn't be happy if I had to help him.
I picked up plates as he made his way to the door. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Sara doing the same.
“I've got it,” I said. “You don't need to do that.” The glare she sent my way had me raising my eyebrows in surrender. “Follow me.”
I led the way to the kitchen and set my dishes down on the counter. Sara was right behind me and did the same. Out in the hallway, I heard my father arguing with Martha about whether or not he needed to take a nap, but the sound was strangely distant.
“I suppose I should get going,” Sara said, but she made no move to go.
My stomach twisted. I didn't want her to leave. I hadn't really gotten any alone time with her, and while I now knew a bit more about her history, I didn't know the things I wanted to know. What she liked. What she loved.
If she wanted to see Tyrell again.
“Do you have a date tonight?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
She shook her head, her eyes meeting mine again. “I don't think Tyrell and I are a very good match.”
I resisted the urge to tell her that I agreed. Instead, I glanced at the clock. “Well, if you don't have plans for tonight, do you want to go into the gym and spar a bit? A couple of the guys are at matches, so it closed early. It'll be empty so we won't have to worry about spectators.”
She studied me for a moment, and I wondered if those dark eyes could see through me, see what I didn't want to admit to myself, let alone her. If she did see it, it didn't seem to bother her.
“All right,” she said. “Let's go. But if you think I'm going to take it easy on you because you fed me, think again.”
“I wouldn't have it any other way,” I said, trying not to stare at her ass as she turned to walk away.
I really hoped I knew what I was doing because this seemed to be heading nowhere good.
Chapter Nine
Sara
I wasn't so sure this was a good idea. I'd enjoyed lunch more than I thought possible and had sincerely liked talking with Mr. Forbes – Max. I'd done my research on the family, so I already knew he hadn't come from money. That was his wife's legacy. Max's father had worked the floor in a plastics plant his whole life, and his mother had been a housewife. When Max married Dorian's mom, people assumed Max had only been after the money, but he'd proved them wrong when his investments and business ventures had led to an increase in the family fortune.
I'd known all of that, but what reading a bunch of articles online hadn't been able to tell me was that Maxwell Forbes was a down-to-earth guy who would've been just as much at home in a blue-collar bar as he was in the boardroom.
I'd actually been more comfortable talking to Max than with Dorian, but I could no longer deny why that was. Yesterday, I'd tried to downplay how much he had to do with why I hadn't wanted a second date with Tyrell, but the moment I'd seen Dorian standing in the doorway of his house, I'd felt with him what hadn't been there with Tyrell. Tension. Electricity.
Butterflies.
Dorian and I had barely talked the whole afternoon, only snippets of conversation that had included his father, but nothing had kept me from being hyper aware of his presence the entire time. When I'd followed him into the kitchen, it was like I could feel something connecting us, an almost palpable current. It wasn't unpleasant, but it did make me uncomfortable...mostly because I liked it.
When he asked if I wanted to go to the gym, I thought the physical activity would be good for me, burn off some excess energy, maybe ease some of the tension. Then again, sparring with Dorian was usually a good way to increase my tension rather than lessen it. When we moved together...I was all too aware of his body.
But I still agreed to go.
I wasn't ready for the day to be over yet either.
We talked a little on our way into the city, mostly about unimportant things, the sort of mundane topics people talked about on first dates.
Except, I reminded myself, this wasn't a date. The lunch had been about me meeting Dorian’s father. A gesture of appreciation for that morning in the park. That was it.
I took a couple extra minutes while changing to remind myself to be professional – despite the fact that I was now wearing a pair of yoga pants and a sports bra – and then headed out to the gym. Dorian was waiting, and as his eyes ran over me, I felt my nipples grow tight. My stomach clenched when I saw that he wasn't wearing a shirt, just a pair of shorts. His torso was defined, his shoulders broad above a narrow waist.
Shit.
I looked away from him. “Shall we?”
I took a slow breath as I climbed into the ring. I couldn't let him see my hands shaking. Too many questions I didn't want to answer. When I faced him again, I was composed.
We circled around each other, feeling for the best opening. He moved first and I countered. Then I moved and he countered. Round and round we went, feinting one way and then the other, blocking kicks and hits. We fell into our familiar dance; the same way we'd sparred during our first session.
But it didn't feel the same. It felt like...more.
> This time, when I swung at Dorian, he caught my wrist and yanked me back against his chest. I sucked in a breath as his skin burned against mine.
“What's wrong?” he chuckled in my ear. “Didn't Tyrell teach you any fancy moves after your date the other night?”
I wasn't sure if it was the insinuation or the fact that I was so turned on that I couldn't think straight, but I twisted my wrist out of his grasp and swept my leg behind me. He thudded to the mat, a stunned expression on his face. Before he could get up, I was on him, my knees on either side of his waist. I grabbed his wrists and pinned his hands over his head.
I smiled down at him, pleased with myself for catching him off-guard. Then my eyes met his and any amusement I felt burned away. On most days, his irises looked blue, with just a hint of violet, but right now, they looked almost purple.
He worked his hand free, and I made no move to stop him. I couldn't. I'd heard of predators who mesmerized their prey, somehow made them stand still. I felt like that; like I was...spellbound.
He reached up and curled his hand around the back of my neck. For a beat, he held me there, as if considering something, and then he surged upward, his mouth catching mine in a fierce, bruising kiss.
I bit at his bottom lip and he parted my lips with his tongue. He sat up, one arm going around my waist as he held me against him. Our skin was slick with sweat, our pulses already racing, but the heat rushing through me had little to do with our previous exercise.
The smart thing to do would've been to end the kiss, get up and tell him that we weren't going to do this.
Except I really wanted to, and if what I could feel pressing against me was any indication, he really wanted to as well.
His hands moved to the straps of my bra, tugging them down my arms until my breasts were exposed. He wrapped my braid around his wrist, tugging my head back until he could kiss his way down my throat. I tried to run my hands over his chest, but my arms were restrained enough that I could only reach his stomach. The muscles there fluttered under my fingers, then jumped as my nails dug in when his mouth found my breasts.
I moaned as his tongue teased my nipples, and I ground myself down against him. He caught one sensitive piece of flesh between his teeth and I hissed.
“I want to fuck you,” he growled the words. “Here. Now.”
Bad idea.
Really bad idea.
“Yes,” I groaned. “Yes.”
Suddenly, we were moving, my bra straps sliding up so I could catch myself on my elbows even as he flipped me onto my knees. He yanked my pants and underwear down together.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he muttered.
His hand ran over my ass, up my spine and then under me. He curled his body over mine, his cock hot and hard against my hip. He pressed his mouth against my ear even as he shoved my bra up over my breasts so he could cup them both.
“I’ve been dying to feel this body from the moment I saw you.” He pinched my nipples between fingers and thumbs, chuckling when I gasped. “Now I'm going to make you scream.”
I would've offered some smart-ass remark, but then his cock pressed against my entrance, and I didn't care what he claimed. I swore as he pushed inside, my body stretching to accommodate him even as I tried to spread my legs wider. My pants around my thighs kept me trapped, kept me impossibly tight even as he worked himself deeper.
My eyelids fluttered, fingernails digging into the mat. It'd only been a month since I last had sex, but Gordon's quick little wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am encounters the last few – okay, more than a few – times had felt nothing like this. I was barely aware of the sounds coming from Dorian's mouth. The curse words. The moans. My name. All of that was in the background. Every bit of my focus was on the nearly overwhelming sensations coursing through each cell.
His fingers dug into my hips as he thrust into me, each stroke harder than the last, rubbing against all of the right spots until I was whimpering. My head fell forward and I squeezed my eyes closed. I was so close. I braced myself on one hand, moving the other one beneath me. I barely touched my clit and I came. Pleasure washed over me, through me.
“Fuck!”
Dorian stiffened behind me as he came, his hands gripping me so hard that I knew I'd have bruises in the morning. I didn't care though. All of the tension in my body had dissipated with my climax and I felt limp, relaxed. Even better, my head – which had been far too full recently – was pleasantly empty.
I knew it'd be full again shortly, and that I'd have to deal with what happened, but for right now, I was just going to take it.
Chapter Ten
Dorian
I hadn't come that hard in a long time. My entire body was throbbing, pulsing. Sara's body was too. I felt her pussy spasm around me, squeezing almost to the point of pain. She was so hot and tight that it had taken an insane amount of control not to come immediately. I was surprised I managed to last as long as I did.
It wasn't until I pulled out that I realized how badly I'd screwed up.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
“Wha...”
The word trailed off as the knowledge dawned on her face. The realization that we hadn't used a condom was quickly followed by the understanding that quite a bit of her was still exposed. Her entire body flushed and she yanked up her pants, then pulled down her bra.
“I'm on the pill,” she said quickly, not meeting my eyes. “And I always used a condom with Gordon, so I'm clean.”
Shit! What the hell had I been thinking?!
I got to my feet and ran my hands through my hair as I turned away from her. Dammit! I was smarter than this.
“You'll excuse me if I don't just take your word for it.” I felt the air between us shift, but I kept going. “I mean, no offense, but it's not like we actually know each other.”
“You're right.”
Her voice was cold, and something inside me twisted at the sound.
“We should both get tested as soon as possible. It's not like I know where your dick's been.”
I turned, but she wasn't looking at me. Instead, she was climbing out of the ring.
“This doesn't count as a regular session.” The words popped out of my mouth before I'd really thought about them. “I expect to see you here tomorrow morning, usual time.”
“I'll be here.”
There was no malice in her words. In fact, there wasn't anything at all.
“Thanks for the sparring session,” she said as she reached the door. “It really cleared my head about some things.”
I knew I'd fucked up before the door closed behind her, but it was too late.
And maybe that was a good thing.
* * *
I couldn't sleep, and it was seriously pissing me off.
The day had been going so well. Dad had finally met Sara, and they'd gotten along great. I finally felt like I was getting to know her, and then the heat between us when we'd sparred...
I hadn't been able to help myself when she was on top of me. I'd needed to know what her mouth tasted like, felt like. And things had just gone from there.
I couldn't stop thinking about her. What it was like inside her.
It'd felt so right, so natural. During the moments I was pumping in and out of her body, listening to her moans, feeling her skin against mine, I'd been able to put aside what all of it would mean, how what we were doing would change things. I'd been able to ignore how natural it felt, how much I'd wanted to take her home with me and spend the entire night exploring every inch of her body.
When we'd finished, and I realized that she'd made me lose control so badly that I hadn't remembered to use protection, it'd scared the hell out of me. I was always in control, even when I had sex. I was always aware, even in those moments when my body's natural instincts were taking over, I always held back.
Until tonight.
She'd made me lose control, lose myself. And for that, I'd lashed out at her in a way that made me sick when I thought about it. I could sometime
s be a bastard when it came to women – okay, most of the time – but I'd never liked being intentionally cruel, especially not to someone who didn't deserve it.
Part of me wondered if she'd even show up tomorrow morning, or if I'd have to find yet another trainer. I was pretty sure I could get Jelani to come back. If I apologized well enough, things could even go back to the way they were.
But that’s not what I wanted.
I didn't want Jelani training me and then sticking around for a quickie in the shower. I didn't want to call her some night when I was horny and didn't want to bother going out to a club to find some one-night stand. I didn't want to have to explain to her yet again why I wasn't going to be exclusive with her.
I knew what I didn't want, but couldn't let myself admit what it was that I did want. I told myself that I didn't know, but this was apparently one of those things that I couldn't lie to myself about.
Finally, after tossing and turning for hours, I decided to get up and go for a run. If nothing else, it'd clear my head before I went in to the gym. Usually, I would've gone to the park, but I didn't know if Sara still ran there. While the sheer size of the place meant that my chances of seeing her were slim, I didn't want to take that risk.
I also didn't want to risk running into my dad on my way out, so I crept down the backstairs and snuck out through the kitchen the same way I did when I was a kid.
The downtown office building where FFC had its official headquarters had a gym on the top floor so that employees of the various corporations could exercise on their lunch breaks. It'd been my dad's idea, and he footed the bill for most of it, but a good percentage of the people in the building took advantage of it. I generally didn't. If I wanted to work out in peace, I did so in my apartment. If I wanted a gym atmosphere, I went to the gym.
This morning, however, I went straight to the top of the building. A couple dozen laps around the indoor track were just what I needed. Once I got my head cleared, I could go to the gym, do a bit of training with Sara, and forget that last night ever happened.
