A bad man
The next morning, I get up earlier so I can have a longer session at the gym before work. My gym is only a few blocks away, but I drive anyway. Why would I want to burn more calories than I need to? It was hard to wake up early this morning. I didn't get much sleep last night. I ended up turning my phone off after 11pm and a million missed calls. I smile. David is probably going crazy right now and it serves him right.
Even after turning off my phone, sleep was in short supply. I lay awake all night thinking, trying to pinpoint the exact moment David became a jerk. I couldn't and I wonder if he's been like this since high school and I've been too blind to notice.
I pull up in front of the gym, lean over and pull my backpack out of the passenger seat. Inside is a towel, some heels, a nice black business dress, some makeup and a hairbrush. After my workout, I need to shower and get dressed for work. Since the gym has showers, I figured I'd kill two birds with one stone this morning. I adjust my ponytail, pull my tights up a little higher and cover my belly button with my pink tank top. Not that it helps anyone. It's so tight that it keeps sliding up and exposing my flat belly.
I walk into the gym and a sterile smell fills my nostrils. Yesterday, the gym was hosting a boot camp and smelled strongly of sweat and vomit. Disgusting is a good way to put it.
I scan the gym trying to decide where I want to start today. I usually start with the treadmill or elliptical, but this morning I'm feeling something a little more...aggressive. I want something I can blow off some steam with. I have a lot of hate that I want to get out of my system before work. My gaze lands on the boxing ring where two staunch men train. I guess it's a start, but maybe I'll opt for something a little more personal. I look over to the punching bags and see...him.
Wow!
A shiver instantly shoots down my spine, igniting something dark and sinister deep in my core. I watch helplessly in the stranger's features, gawking at him like an idiot. Strands of his short, black hair cling to his forehead with sweat and as soon as I notice, he runs his bandaged fingers through it, sending little beads of sweat in every direction. My mouth goes dry and I want to run my lips across his wet throat. Suddenly I'm aware of a strange, searing heat on the back of my neck and an electric current I've never felt before tingles between my thighs as I watch his sweaty chest rise and fall in a deep pant. He looks up at the ceiling and closes his eyes, forcing his Adams apple to protrude slightly outward. His broad shoulders and one side of his chest are covered in intricate tattoos. On his hip is another tattoo, it's a phrase, but I'm too far away to read it. My gaze falls on his black drawstring pants that hang from his narrow hips, exposing his delicious 'V' shape. I've never seen a man so...so...much like him. It's like he's straight out of a movie or some steamy, erotic women's magazine: six-pack and all.
She flexes her fingers and bounces slightly on her toes before clenching her hands into fists. Her muscles tense and contract, work and relax, as she slams her hard fists into the big blue bag. My whole body tenses and vibrates with pleasure every time his big fists connect. And the way his eyebrows draw together as he swings his big, muscular arms makes me squirm where I stand. I look at his face, his eyes are dark and his face serious, as if the bag in front of him is someone he hates. Involuntarily, my eyes return to their 'V' shape and I ponder what exactly is underneath the thin fabric. The thought alone is enough for desire to begin to build up inside my being. A few seconds pass and I notice that the string of his pants is no longer moving back and forth, not moving. Slowly, I drag my eyes upward over her slim hips and narrow waist.
Damn!
My stomach climbs up my throat with tremendous speed and I think I'm going to throw up. I feel like I'm standing on water, instead of dry land and my eyes widen as my pulse instantly shoots up. I want to run, but I'm still frozen, rooted to the spot. I open my mouth to apologize, but I'm at least ten meters away from him. I close my mouth tightly. I'm embarrassed, but at the same time I'm delighted, completely undone just because he's looking at me. His full, tempting lips open in a cocky smile, as if he's heard everything I thought about him. Beneath my cheeks, my blood burns. Not with desire, but with shame and I hate it. I look down at my white sneakers. Maybe I'll start on the treadmills today. I force myself to put one foot in front of the other on the treadmills next to each other. I turn up the speed on the treadmill and move. Very quickly my body starts moaning and groaning, probably because I forgot to warm up. Beeps sound on the treadmill next to me.
"Hey, Sandy"
It's my dad. I shouldn't be too surprised to run into him here. After all, it's his gym. I stifle a groan. Dad and I have had a bumpy road since I moved in. The only time he finds time to talk to me is when he's trying to guilt me into moving out. My older brother, Richard, can run around the world without our parents bothering him because he is serving our country. God forbid I do anything for myself.
I slow my machine to a fast pace to match his. I hate my nickname. I've been called Sandy for as long as I can remember. Dad and David are the only ones who got away with it.
Seeing Dad this morning is a bit of a shock. He's been absent from the gym for a few days and his assistant Liam has been handling things.
"Dad? I haven't seen you around the gym for a while. I was starting to get worried"
"But aren't you worried enough to come home and check on me?"
I roll my eyes as he removes his bowler hat with one hand and scratches his straight gray hair with the other. I knew full well that if I pointed a toe in the direction of the house, they would never let me out.
"I've been busy visiting your Aunt Holly"
He informs me.
"Your cousin Sheryl gave birth to a baby yesterday. She has my nose"
"Poor baby"
I joke, unable to contain a giggle.
"Yes, yes, you're very funny, I get it"
I smile at her.
"What's been happening to you?"
He asks.
I groan and swing my long ponytail over my other shoulder.
"I broke up with David last night. He stood me up at Salsa's again"
Dad shakes his head.
"I told you he was a bad man. That boy has no respect. I knew he was an ingrate the moment I saw him"
He places a gentle hand on mine.
"It's his loss, sweetheart. You're a good girl"
I laugh.
"It's the thought that counts"
I look past Dad and the stranger has hit his sack again. His hard pecs contract every time he makes contact and I imagine running my hands slowly across his muscular abdomen. What's wrong with me?
"Hey, who's that guy?"
I ask, shaking my head in his direction.
Dad turns around.
"The muscle guy?"
He looks at me and I nod.
"You really don't know who he is?"
"Am I supposed to?"
"It's Jake Smith"
Jesus, even his name makes me melt.