Body of Work (17 page)

His feet hit the floor and he hauled her up with him. Hands cupping her sweet ass, he steered her toward the bedroom door. “To the shower it is.”

“Wait,” she threw on the brakes, “I need to grab condoms.”

Not one, but plural. That worked. She let out the world’s sexiest shriek when he smacked her ass as she moved toward the nightstand. Probably stung, given the earlier encounter with the maple tree. She bent to open the drawer, causing her robe to ride up, exposing the smiley curves of her cheeks and a hint of the bark burn he’d tended before dinner. He adjusted his stance to accommodate the growing hard-on. Part of his brain screamed
sick fucking bastard
, but he pushed it away. Cassie didn’t think so. She welcomed that side of him. Got off from it, as he did. A few days together and he couldn’t see himself fucking another woman, ever.

“Ready,” she said, waving a fan of packets at him. Two steps in his direction, the phone rang. She ignored it, and by the time the condoms were within reach, the answering machine picked up.

“Hi, Cassie, this is Trevor Ritchie, the owner of Iron Works.”

And there went the condoms as Cassie darted for the phone by her bed. “Want me to grab it before he hangs up, in case it’s important?”

“No—it’s not for me.” Shit. Definitely should’ve gotten around to this conversation during dinner.

Trevor’s voice continued through the speaker, slick as ever. “The club is due for updated promotional shots for the website and fall print campaigns, and your work comes highly recommended. I’d like to discuss my ideas with you over dinner. My treat, of course. You can reach me at the club, or on my cell. The number is—”

“Fucker,” Brian muttered, drawing Cassie’s attention.

“Were you the one who recommended me—is that how you knew the call wouldn’t be for you?”

So much for their hot shower. He sat on the bed and pulled her onto his lap. “As for the recommendation, it wasn’t me and I doubt there was one, period. Not that you don’t deserve the job—I’ve seen your website, you do. But I think Trevor’s looking for a guaranteed way to get you on a date. You caught his eye the other day. You were barely out the door before he started asking questions about you. He’s used to getting his way—about everything.”

She shivered in his arms. “He gave me the creeps. Did you puff up and growl at him like you did with Sam?”

He snorted. Yeah, he’d done exactly that the day Sam was taunting him by flirting with Cassie. “Wish I could have. Trevor’s an asshole, I’d love to flatten him.”

“But you can’t because he’s your boss. I get that.”

Not entirely, she didn’t. “More than that. He’s the only guy who’d hire me after the domestic charges. When Leanne had to withdraw from the CBBF Fitness Championships, she almost lost her biggest sponsor. The only thing that saved her was the cause of her injuries. That kind of thing is big news in the fitness community. Most clubs wouldn’t even take my résumé, let alone give me a chance to explain.”

“So your boss knows…everything?”

“As in,
how
I gave Leanne the injuries? Yeah. Not something I want out there as public knowledge, but it was either divulge the circumstances or let my sole potential employer assume I beat her up. The lesser of two evils, unfortunately.” What he wouldn’t tell Cassie was how Trevor smiled through the story. Brian would forget that part of the conversation himself, if possible.

“Well, he gave you the job, so he gets credit for that. If he truly wants to talk business, I’ll take my portfolio to his office. And if he pulls any more of his creeptastic moves on me, I’ll tell him I’m spoken for.”

“I told him that when he asked about you. He doesn’t care, he said as much.”

“You told him we were seeing each other and he said it didn’t matter? What kind of person is he?”

“A lazy, disrespectful sleazebag, but,” and this was where it got tricky, “I didn’t tell him
we’re
together. I couldn’t, still can’t. No romantic or intimate contact with members—a condition of the contract I had to sign when he agreed to hire me. That’s why I didn’t ask you out months ago, and every day since.”

“And why you acted like a jerk to me at the gym the other day?”

“Yeah.” That, and having overheard her fucking the Italian guy, but he wasn’t taking on that conversation tonight. “I should have told you right away. I hate secrets—they always come back to bite you in the ass.”

Cassie scrambled off his lap and pulled the tiny robe tighter. Subtly, she put distance between them. Didn’t take a genius to figure out what she was doing—especially since she’d left the condoms on the bed. He could hardly blame her for needing space after everything he’d unloaded on her tonight. Fuck, it was a miracle she still wanted him at all.

“How about you take that bath and unwind—alone—and I’ll head out, give you time to yourself.”

“Okay.”

The single word knifed him. He stood, weighed his options and consequences. Fuck it. He crossed the room and cradled her face in his palms. “I’m not leaving without kissing you good night.”

“You’d be in trouble if you did.”

Exactly what he needed to hear. He caught her bottom lip between his teeth and gave it a small tug. A reminder. Then he met her mouth full on for a long, deep kiss. The kind that made her whimper when it ended.

“Yeah, me too,” he said, taking a necessary step back. Without it, he’d already have her pinned against the wall with his hand under her robe.

“When will I see you again?” she asked.

The simple question felt like first prize. “Tomorrow.”

“I guess I can wait that long.”

Goddamn, her smile could keep him going for days. Only it wouldn’t have to.

* * * * *

Time was such a fickle bitch. Went too fast when Cassie was around, dragged painfully slowly when she wasn’t. Didn’t help that he hadn’t heard from her since leaving her house last night, or that his boss had chosen this afternoon to hang around the gym
and
make comments about the “hot little number” he had plans for.

Once, to shut Trevor the fuck up, Brian had come close to telling him to stuff the conditions on his employment contract and keep his hands—and mind—off Cassie. Brian had gotten as far as Trevor’s office door, the words “there’s something I’d like to discuss with you” out of his mouth. Trevor had waved him in. Before Brian had had the chance to spill the rest, Trevor dropped
his
bomb—a new contract was in the works, one that included a ten-percent stake in Iron Works and the option to buy a larger share in the years to come. Guess he’d be keeping his relationship with Cassie under wraps awhile longer.

“You look like shit.” This from Sam as he strolled behind the front counter to liberate a post-workout protein bar from the gym’s packed display rack.

“That’ll be three bucks.”

“For the bar or the insult?” Sam grinned and stuffed the second half of the supplement bar in his mouth. He aimed, tossed the crumpled wrapper into the trash can and crossed pumped-up arms over his chest.

Few people had stood beside Brian after the Leanne mess. His parents, his brother. As far as friends went, Sam was it. The guy had even stuck his neck out and put in a recommendation with his boss—now their boss—at Iron Works. Let Sam think he was sticking it to that idiot Trevor by snagging free bars and shakes. Brian would toss the cash in the till later. He owed Sam that and a hell of a lot more.

Sam swallowed, then grabbed a bottled water from the fridge and took a long swig to wash the chewy mass down. “So, how’d it go yesterday?”

“The boot camp? Great turnout, getting more people every week. Thirty-four bodies at ten bucks a head.”

“More people every week, huh? That mean Cassie showed up?” Another grin when Brian slowly nodded. “Good. And you’re welcome.” He pushed off the counter and made his way to the members’ side of the front desk. “Do you remember all the stuff you told me Saturday night?”

Brian snorted. “I wasn’t
that
drunk, Jacobs.” Total bullshit and they both knew it.

“Whatever. Look, I’ve been telling you not to go for anything with Cassie because you could lose your job over it, and I’d hate to see you in that position again. But after listening to your rye-loosened lips for a couple of hours, I’ve changed my position. Go for it, man. Be happy. Just be careful.”

The hair on the back of his neck bristled. “I won’t hurt her.”

Sam shook his shiny bald head while reaching over the counter to cuff Brian, an act only a select few could do and live to tell the tale.

“Not what I meant, dumbass. Be careful Ritchie doesn’t find out. It might be wise for Cassie to switch gyms if you’re going to do the couple thing. Have you told her yet—about the lame conviction and the stupid contract you signed?”

Trust Sam to say exactly what he meant. The women he dated didn’t always appreciate that quality, but Brian did. Honesty beat the hell out of pussyfooting around and lies any day.

“Told her everything last night.”

Now Sam nodded. “Explains why you look like you haven’t slept in two days.”

“Nice. Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Sam hoisted his backpack onto one shoulder. Drained the water bottle, crushed it and tossed it, basketball-style, into the recycling bin. “Sounds like she might be a keeper. Don’t fuck it up or I’ll kick your ass.”

* * * * *

All night long the damn door opened and closed. Members arrived, exercised, hit the tanning beds, ordered shakes, signed up for training, bought supplements and exited the gym. Every time Cassie didn’t walk through the door, Sam’s threat replayed in Brian’s head. Looked as if he had an ass-kicking coming to him.

The place was empty by eleven forty-five, so he started the cleanup process. No point in spending any extra minutes here tonight. Sam was right, Brian hadn’t slept much on the weekend, and the few hours he’d had the past two nights were the toss-and-turn variety. Tonight probably wouldn’t be any better.

He got the cleaning caddy and headed for the mirrored wall on the east side of the weight room. An idiot scowled back at him. He sprayed glass cleaner on his reflection and wiped harder circles than necessary to do the job. Pain, that’s what he needed.

Fuck the cleaning for one night. He tossed the bottle and roll of towels into the bucket. Cracked his neck side-to-side and grabbed the hundred-pound dumbbells. He dropped onto a flat bench and planted his feet on the floor. Slowly, he lowered the weights until the plates touched the sides of his chest, then pushed the dumbbells back up, banging out twelve reps with ease. More weight required. He swapped the hundreds for the one-twenties and returned to the bench. The burn kicked in on the fifth rep. By the eighth his chest and triceps protested. Yeah, this was what he needed. He grunted and pushed out two more before letting the weights thud to the floor.

“The sign on the wall says, ‘please do not drop the weights’.” Cassie looked down at him, the ends of her short, slightly mussed hair falling forward, brushing her cheek and begging to be tucked behind her ear.

“Are you going to turn me in?”

“No, your secrets are safe with me.”

A promise laced with double meaning, he was sure of it. Had to be a good sign. Plus, she was here.

She bent and wrapped both hands around the bar of one dumbbell. “Oh my god, this is heavy.” Her eyes bugged when she read the number on one end. “This thing weighs more than I do—and you were benching
two
of them?”

“That’s only two-forty, and I weigh two-fifteen. A man should be able to bench his own weight, minimum, and a hell of a lot more with the straight bar.”

“So you wouldn’t have a problem benching
me
.”

“Not at all.” He positioned his hands a little wider than his shoulders, palms up, and winked. “Get on, I’ll prove it.”

“I was kidding.”

The idea of holding her this way, showing off for her, gave him a rush. Now he needed to get her up there—and after her stubborn performance at the boot camp, he knew how to make it happen. “I wasn’t. But if your abs and legs aren’t strong enough to hold your body straight…”

“You did not just say that.” Her purse hit the floor and she stepped closer, a little wrinkle forming between two perfectly shaped eyebrows. “How do you want me—front or back?”

His grin at the blush on her face had to stretch ear to ear. “I want you every which way, cutie, but for this exercise, I think you’ll be most comfortable facedown.” The reverse would probably be better for him, but he wasn’t about to give up watching her face as he lifted her. The parts of her sexy body he’d get to paw didn’t hurt the deal either.

He brought his hands down to chest level. Tentatively, she settled the weight of her upper body on one of his palms.

“A little to the left…”

For a second she shimmied, giving him a handful of t-shirt-covered breast. Then it clicked, or more likely, his face gave him away. Didn’t matter, really. The chastising set of her lips sent more adrenaline through his veins—and more blood rushing to his cock. Bench-pressing with a boner. Should be interesting.

“Do I even need to ask what part of my body goes on your other hand?”