"Darcy, I think we are totally out of our element here." She tilted her head back and saw that the place must be one huge room with a few walls dividing it.
"Have you ever seen so many hot guys in one place? And I'm not talking about the steroid injected ones that hang around at the clubs. I'm talking about the real ones." Darcy had a point. These guys didn't have muscles that looked grossly out of proportions. They had toned, defined bodies that you could tell they worked their asses off, and the way they looked, as if anyone fucked with them they'd kick some serious ass, made her feel wholly feminine.
"Come on, let's go to the treadmills."
They walked past the ring where two guys were boxing. Their shirts were off, sweat coated their bodies, and their concentration was only on each other. They moved with synchronized movements, seeming to know the other's position before it was even revealed. They punched, jabbed, and blocked each other's hits, and the testosterone and masculinity filled the air.
"God, I just had a series of orgasms watching them beat the crap out of each other." Yeah, Mary could totally relate. "Mica said he'd be here, but I don't see him." They stopped in front of the treadmills, and Darcy looked around. "Maybe he's in one of those rooms?"
There were a few closed doors lining one of the walls, but Mary hadn't come here to look at the man candy, although she was seriously reconsidering that. She needed a good work-out, one that would exhaust her and not have her thinking about the guy that had been consuming her thoughts for the past two weeks.
Mary picked a treadmill, not bothering to snap Darcy out of whatever trance she was in, and started the machine. She set it for a workout that would start off slow and increase in pace and incline. After a few minutes Darcy climbed onto the treadmill beside her and started her own workout. For the next five minutes they were silent, and all other sounds except Mary's feet hitting the machine, were blocked out.
For the last fourteen days she had tried her best to steer clear of Alex unless it was in the form of tutoring him. For the most part she succeeded, making herself relive that night at the club, and when she had seen the scratch marks the next morning to make her anger fresh again. It was childish to keep it up, but she feared that it would be too easy to fall into the trap of forgetting everything that had happened, and giving herself to Alex. Then there had been the times she had walked past the football field, heard the guys practicing, and found herself going over to watch him. He was a machine on the field, taking down his teammates like they were annoying flies. Keeping her emotions in check hadn't been as easy as she thought, especially when she had tutored him the last three days.
Margo's wedding was next weekend, and midterms right after that. She was determined to make sure Alex passed that class if it killed her. No way in hell would he be able to hold it against her if he failed. He was smart, more so than he gave himself credit for. He just didn't try, and that was his problem. If only he stopped staring at her, stopped letting his emotions play across his face as strongly as if he was actually telling her he wanted her then and there.
Her routine kicked into the next gear, and she ran faster. Sweat started to bead at her temples, and she reached for her earbuds and put one in each ear. Darcy was already mouthing the words to whatever song she was listening to, so Mary focused in front of her, which was of all the men working out. She turned up the volume on her iPod, and like she did every other time before let the music take her away. Closing her eyes she was washed away in the sad, heart wrenching lyrics coming from the song "Wrecking Ball". She hated and loved the song. She kept her eyes closed, listening to how deeply the song was sung, and how a part of her could relate to it. She wanted to be let in, and never wanted it to come down to this. She had walked away, but he pushed her away.
She opened her eyes and faltered slightly in running at the man who was in the middle of grappling with another, mere feet from her. All she could see was his back, but she knew that back, knew those sharp, dark lines that covered the entire muscular expanse. The song was on repeat, and she didn't stop running as she watched him wrestle with the other guy. His moves were powerful, exact, and had her whole body heating. In a move that made her knees weak he stood, grabbed the guy around the waist and around one of his legs and lifted him above his head. She didn't blink, didn't even breathe as she watched him bring the other guy down on his back, hard. It was such a display of force, of masculine power, that she swore the ground shook beneath her. Over and over they fought, Alex always getting the upper hand. Although the moves looked painful and dangerous, the men knew what they were doing, and expected each and every action and reaction.
The men broke apart when an older man, maybe in his late thirties or early forties, stepped onto the blue mats. His blond hair was in a faux hawk style, and there was no denying the raw power that he wielded. She could tell he held authority, and by the way his muscles were clearly visible through his white t-shirt and track shorts, she knew he was also deadly.
Movement to her side caught her attention, and she forced herself to look away from Alex. Mica sauntered over to them, his body sweaty, his dark hair plastered to his forehead, and his lip ring glinting under the florescent lights. His lips moved, but of course she couldn't hear what he said with music blasting in her ears. She looked over at Darcy who wore a wide grin. Darcy hopped off the treadmill and rushed over to him, like she hadn't just seen him last night, or talked to him an hour ago. Mica scooped her up like she weighed nothing, but then again he was a big guy, not as tall or muscular as Alex, but big nonetheless.
Alex.
She looked over at him again and held her breath when she saw him staring right at her. Sweat dripped down his face from his dark hair, over his wide shoulders, and down that ridiculously ripped abdomen. He didn't even bother wiping the wetness from his eyes, just continued to stare right at her. He looked dirty from fighting, was breathing hard from exertion, but the way he watched her, made him seem like he was in control of every little thing. He let his eyes travel down her body, well, as much as he could see, and she swore she saw his pupils dilate. The clothes she wore were for working out, but the pants were tight, and her top just as snug as it hugged her breasts. She should have worn something sloppy that hid her junk in the trunk, or her rounded belly.
Don't fall for it. Remember who and what he is. Those thoughts faded as quickly as they had come the longer she looked at him, and dammit she couldn't look away. Her pulse kicked into overdrive, her palms started to sweat like the rest of her body, and all she could do was think about how much she wanted him. The treadmill kicked off, and she was left standing there panting, but her increased respirations had more to do with the fact that Alex staring at her made her feel bare. She pulled out her earbuds and gripped her iPod tightly in her hand.
This was ridiculous, and her reaction to seeing him, when she had just seen him yesterday, when she was trying to practice self-restraint in all things concerning him, was bordering on insanity. She just needed to go, before she did something she regretted like going up to him, taking his face in her hands, rising on her toes, and kissing the fuck out of him. Yeah, that would be something she could never take back, and would set into motion a lot of things that could and would backfire.
Chapter Thirteen
"I think I'm done here, Darcy." Mary tore her eyes away from Alex, walked past Darcy who was still in Mica's arms, and made her way quickly to the locker room. She was letting him get to her, and to be honest this was all on her. All he did was look at her and she was a wreck, and it was like everything that had happened well … had never even occurred. She pushed the door open and leaned against the lockers. The metal was cool against her overheated skin, but it didn't help in cooling her down. Perspiration moved between her breasts and down the center of her back.
What was she doing? Playing with fire, that's what. Since the first time she saw him she had felt something deep, which had been ludicrous then and still was now.
The sound of the door opening pierced her inner musings, but she didn't bother looking up.