Seth
FROM: OLIVIA. TIME: 8:00 A.M.
Done. On my way home to help Mom.
I’ll call you later.
Love you.
xx
“Fucking Mason,” I growl, slipping my phone into the back pocket of my jeans.
I lean against my car and keep my eyes trained on the darkened concrete at my feet as Jackson saunters up beside me.
“What’s up?” he asks, leaning against the car beside me.
“Mason,” I tell him, refusing to bring my eyes to his face.
Although Olivia never hinted that Mason has upset her in her text message, I know he did. Mason had a habit of running his mouth where it wasn’t wanted. Jackson stiffens be-side me. “What’d he do?”
“I don’t know.” I cringe. Jesus-fucking-Christ. I sound like an idiot. I pull my keys from my pocket and push off of the car. I should go see her—fuck it, I’ll go see him.
Jackson snags my arm, his grip hard and strong.
“Don’t be an idiot.” He snickers, reading my mind. “You don’t even know if he’s done anything.”
“I don’t have to, Mason’s a dick.”
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Jackson releases me and his eyes thin as he laughs to himself. “Look at you all smitten and protective. I never thought I’d see the day.”
I roll my eyes as he crosses his jean-clad legs over each other and flicks his eyebrows suggestively at me. “It seems you’re no longer looking to lease, my friend, you’re looking to buy.”
I fold my arms over my chest, forgetting I want to get in my car and drive to Mason’s.
“So what if I am?”
I haven’t told Jackson about my plans to ask Olivia to marry me…or that I’ve already bought her a ring. I’ll tell him eventually, when I know when I’m going to ask her. I can’t risk him telling Selena, she can’t keep her mouth shut even if you pay her to. Jack-son flashes his palms at me. “No disrespect, man. I just never thought I’d see the day.”
“Yeah, well, things change.”
“So it seems.”
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I don’t bother pointing out that he and Selena also seem to be getting pretty serious.
My guess is, he either hasn’t shown her what he’s really like or she’s just as damaged as he is. I don’t blame Jackson for being the way he is. After the childhood and teenage years he’s had I’m surprised he has stuck with Selena for so long. His first real relationship was fucking unhealthy. Poor kid was only sixteen and the woman—twenty-three. She was into some dark shit sexually and he ate it all up, thinking that was how things worked.
If he puts Selena through any of the shit he had to go through, I can’t see their relation-ship stretching past the three month line.
I’ve fought the urge to ask him if he’s shown Selena any of his…toys, but prying into Jack-son’s sex life is something I prefer to avoid.
“Let it go, bro,” Jackson says, interrupting my train of thought. He takes my brooding over his past as thoughts of Olivia and
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Mason. “Call her, make her feel better and forget the rest.”
I frown. Am I seriously getting relation-ship advice from Jackson? The same guy who has had as many serious relationships as me? How the fuck did that happen? I guess it isn’t too farfetched. He’s been coach-ing me on women since high school and now that I think about it…maybe that’s a bad idea considering his relationships all consist of one night stands and consensual, sexual ab-use. The thought of tying Olivia up and giv-ing it to her arouses me, but I’d never do it with half of the shit Jackson uses.
“Call her and then get dressed. Training begins in ten.”
With a slap on the back, he strolls away from me and I retrieve my phone from my pocket, dialing Olivia’s number immediately.
It rings for a while before she answers.
“Hey.”
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Her voice is happy and high, but I hear the way it falls flat on the last syllable.
“Hey yourself.” I clear my throat, trying to find the right question to ask without looking like I’m demanding information from her.
“How’d it go?” Nailed it.
She sighs, pausing for a few seconds. “It started off okay…but you know Mason and how he feels about you.”
The thought makes me smile. “That I do.
Are you all right?”
“Surprisingly, yes.” She laughs nervously.
“Onwards and upwards, right?”
“Right.” I stuff my free hand into the front pocket of my jeans.
“I just got home and Mom is all dressed up and ready to garden, so I have to go, but I’ll see you later? We’ll go out for lunch?”
I smile, happy she isn’t going to blow me off on account of Mason. “Absolutely.”
“Okay, see you then.”
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She hangs up, leaving me smiling at my own reflection in the gym windows. I can’t wait for lunch. I can’t wait to see her milky skin and plump, pink lips. Seeing her is what I look forward to most in my day. Most people look forward to their favorite TV shows or their favorite meals, not me. I look forward to the same time every morning when I step through the gym doors and I know I’ll see her. I look forward to seeing her cute wave and wide smile when she sees me, scanning the room for her. I love her, and it’s the sweetest feeling in the world. I slip my phone into my pocket, open the back door to my car, and pull out my gym bag. Training is going to drag on because I’m desperate for lunchtime to roll around. I want to see her…I need to see her.
***
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I open my eyes and glance sleepily around my room. In between tossing and turning, I didn’t get much sleep. Last night—and al-most every other night—I was plagued with images of Olivia that deterred me from sleep.
Much to my brain’s delight, tonight in my dreams, she was naked, desperate and beg-ging for me. After I left her house yesterday, I couldn’t shake the look of her in that tiny fucking shirt and tiny shorts—not to mention the fact that she wasn’t wearing underwear.
There I go, torturing myself again.
I groan, throwing off my blankets. I haven’t felt this wound up since the night she wanted me to take her on her couch and I re-fused. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and push myself onto my feet, running my hands over my face. I stroll toward the bathroom because the only thing that is go-ing to help the ‘tentgo-ing’ issue I’m currently having in my pants is a cold shower.
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I drop my pants and open the shower door. I turn on the cold tap, stepping well out of the way of the cold stream. As the cold wa-ter crashes against the floor tiles and splashes onto my skin, I decide a little bit of warmth wouldn’t hurt…or at least I thought it wouldn’t. The warmer the water became, the harder I got, and the harder I got, the tighter I wound.
I reach for the body wash and squeeze a large amount into my hand. I ignore my cock that so eagerly juts out in front of me and be-gin lathering soap over every inch of my body, purposely leaving my length for last.
When I have no choice but to wash it, I curl my hand around the shaft, washing as quickly as I can without causing myself too much grief. I almost got away with it too, un-til my index finger slides over the over-sens-itive head, sending an overwhelming bolt of arousal through me. Without a second thought, I grab the tip of my cock and
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squeeze it firmly. A heavy, pleasured sigh leaves my lips and I feel my eyes become half lidded. I start out slowly, almost at a teasing pace and rest my free hand heavily against the glass.
“Fuck…” I groan, my voice barely above a whisper.
I know I shouldn’t tease myself and I know very well that if I go any faster there’s no way I’m going to stop. Images of Olivia trickle into my mind as my hands run up and down my dick, picking up speed. Almost im-mediately I edge myself to the brink of or-gasm, but before I fall over, I tear my hand away, squeezing my eyes shut as my balls threaten to explode. I can’t break Darryl’s rule…and if I’m going to break it, I’m not go-ing to waste it alone, masturbatgo-ing in my shower. Not when I have Olivia, who wants me as desperately as I want her. Familiar, immoral thoughts of Olivia filter through my mind at the thought of her name. I think
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about yesterday and how badly she wanted me in the shower room and how close I came to filling her completely. My hand twitches towards my cock, but before it makes con-tact, I bite the bullet and slap the hot tap, drenching myself in cold water. I grit my teeth against the freezing temperature, and when I’m certain my boner won’t come back, I shut the water off and step out of the shower. I reach for a towel and quickly run it over my body before wrapping it low on my hips.
My skin is still damp as I march through my room and throw on a white tank top and slip into a pair of shorts, tossing my towel to the side. I glance over my shoulder at the clock on my wall. Fuck. How long was I in there?
I’m running late and I don’t think I can handle the five minute planks as a punish-ment today. Darryl makes me do them whenever I’m late and I don’t care who you
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are, they fucking hurt. I slip into a pair of ankle socks and tear from the room.
I stroll through my kitchen, swinging by the fridge and claiming a yogurt from inside.
As I pass the bench, I reach across and grab a granola and nut bar from the fruit basket. I hate training on an empty stomach. I tear the lid off the yogurt tub and drink it, pouring the sour Greek yogurt down my throat. The nutritionist the MMAC assigned to me would have a fit if she knew how little food I’m con-suming this morning and the fact that I’ve yet to take one of their protein shakes.
As I reach the front door, I slip into my shoes, step outside, and lock my door behind me.
The drive to the gym passes by quickly and I pull awkwardly into a space. I’m sure my wheels are over one side of the line, but I don’t bother rectifying it—not while I’m busy staring at the giant billboard of me bolted to
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the top of the gym. It’s much bigger that I expected…
This is real.
This is happening.
Shit.
I exhale and close my eyes. I’m a pro MMAC fighter with huge billboards of myself spread all over America…I deserve it. I fought my ass off to make this happen, so why does this whole sport suddenly feel so new to me? I open my eyes and look up at the billboard. I’ve never been the kind of per-son who loves themselves, despite what oth-er people might say about me—and looking at my picture—topless with my fists up, all taped and dirty, makes me cringe. I never want to do a photo shoot again. I’ve never felt more feminine in my life than I did that day. One shoot is more than enough. They better re-use that same photo for the rest of my career.
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I slip from the car and shut the door, pressing the buttons on my keys to lock it. I saunter toward the gym, still tired, even after my shower. I hate skipping breakfast. I need meat, I need eggs, and I need a million other things just to keep me running all day. Going off the way I feel now, I’ll be lucky to make it to brunch.
As I approach the door, I notice three men in brightly colored overalls installing our new security system and cameras. Olivia fought me a little on the cameras. She in-sisted they were unnecessary—and they were—until the grocery store down the road was broken into.
I reach out to push the gym door open, but a buzzing in my pocket forces me to withdraw my hand and retrieve my cell-phone from my pocket. Jackson’s name flashes across the screen and I contemplate answering it. He’s undoubtedly going to
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chew my ass off because I’m running a little late. I hit answer and bring it to my ear.
“I’m here now,” I say.
“Hey, man.” Jackson clears his throat, ig-noring my greeting. “I’m not going to make it to the gym today. Selena and I got into it this morning because I almost punched her fath-er in the mouth.”
A laugh rumbles through my chest. “You almost punched her father?”
He growls. “You should meet the fucking guy. He’s a fucking dickbag and he treats her like shit. No wonder she has so many issues.”
I don’t comment. I’ve never really spent time alone with Selena. I don’t know if she has any deep seated issues—hell, I don’t even know what her favorite color is. I do, however, know she likes to dress pretty and drink hard.
“Anyway, bro, you still prepared for me to move in today?”
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“Uh—” Shit. I forgot I asked Jackson to move in three weeks ago. I’ve been so busy it slipped my mind.
“Yeah,” I lie, pretending I didn’t forget.
“All set.”
“Cool. I’m gonna go find Selena. She’s run off and isn’t answering her phone. I’ll talk to you later.”
He hangs up and I slip my phone back in-to my pocket. I have no idea how Jackson and Selena are going to work if he already wants to smash her father. On second thought, I can’t believe Jackson even agreed to meet her father. Maybe he’s becoming just as whipped as I apparently am. My thoughts fall to Rick, Olivia’s dad. He liked me, but it wasn’t like that in the beginning. Although he played all happy in front of Olivia, when she left he’d turn his sights on me, demand-ing I keep my eyes on her face and not…everywhere else. Once I told Rick I wasn’t going to hurt her and he grew to
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believe me, things were fine. He was the only one I talked to about marrying Olivia…I’d never been so scared or anxious in my life, but I got his blessing and that’s all that matters.
I push through the doors and into the gym. The strange smell I usually notice first is masked by frangipani—or lavender—some kind of girly scent. Olivia has been trying to
‘freshen’ the gym for weeks now and this smell is definitely not working for me. I scan the room. In the far corner by the boxing ring, Darryl is taking a phone call—one he doesn’t seem too pleased with, and my spar-ring partners are stretching on the mat be-side him. They have it easy today. I don’t think I have it in me to knock anyone out. I glance around the rest of the gym—two chubby men stroll lazily on the treadmills and a woman is going hard out on the ellipt-ical. I frown, confused why Olivia isn’t here. I want to see her before I train…I feel stupid
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just thinking that, we aren’t inseparable…I just…I don’t know. I guess that’s what it’s like being in love. You need to see that per-son everyday—every second. If you don’t, you feel kind of empty…kind of incomplete.
Jesus-fucking-christ. Listen to me! I sound like a pussy…but it’s true. I feel in-complete…or at least I do until my gaze settles on a pair of bare thighs flowing end-lessly out of tiny, black shorts as she bends over a rowing machine. It’s her and I’m will-ing to bet my entire pro season earnwill-ings on it. I’ve seen her from this glorious angle too many times to not be certain.
Suddenly pleased with how my morning is turning out, I draw nearer, my eyes zeroing in on the small gap between her thighs. Over and over I have to remind myself that we’re in public. My fingers twitch, desperate to act of their own accord and slip between her legs. Instead, I rest my hand on the small of her back. Her skin is soft and warm under
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my palm and I feel her body go rigid as she slowly turns her head. When she makes eye contact with me, her green orbs brighten and she straightens herself before throwing her arms around my neck.
“You scared me!” She says, squeezing me against her.
I wrap my arms around her waist and she pulls away, but I don’t let her go. “Did you see the billboard?”
I feel my face pull together. “I did…they don’t have any smaller ones?”
She half frowns, half smiles. “I’m sure they do, but I ordered the biggest.”
“Of course you did.”
Her lips curl into a mocking smirk. “Are you embarrassed, Mr. Marc?”
“Do I look embarrassed? Sorry, I was go-ing for humble.”
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” She shrugs. “I think it's sexy.”
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“Well, I think your shorts are sexy and I deem them inappropriate for the workplace.”
She rolls her eyes and the palms of my hands find their way down her back, stopping on her firm ass. “Your ass is a hazard.”
She giggles at my lame line, catching her plump bottom lip between her teeth as her hands grip my hands, dragging them up to rest on her hips. “There are times and places for everything.”
“I agree.” I lower my mouth to her ear and I feel her tense against me. “I’ve never done it in a gym.”
“Seth, people are watching.”
My lips twitch upwards at the sound of her breathless voice. “Let them.”
I pull back, sliding my hands up the con-tour of her perfect body, before slipping them to either side of her neck. Her eyes are heavy, her plump lips parted to let through a slow, controlled breath and it exposes her teeth slightly, so flawless and white.
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“Olivia?”
A husky male voice draws my attention to the door and I watch cautiously as a tall, lean, and over-excited guy struts towards us.
I feel Olivia’s gaze drag from my face to his and she takes a step back. I drop my hands to my sides and watch curiously as he pulls Olivia into a hug. It isn’t a seedy hug—it re-sembles the kind of hug a brother would give a sister, but the gleam in his eye is unsettling.
“Brad, this is my boyfriend, Seth. Seth,
“Brad, this is my boyfriend, Seth. Seth,