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Consumed

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Shit!
My stomach claws its way up my throat with tremendous speed and I think I’m going to be sick. I feel like I’m standing on water, instead of solid ground and my eyes widen as my pulse instantly skyrockets. I want to run, but I remain frozen—rooted in place. I open my mouth to apologize, but I’m at least thirty feet away from him. I clamp my mouth shut. I’m embarrassed, yet at the same time, I’m aroused—completely undone just because he’s looking at me. His tantalizing, full lips break out into a cocky smile, like he heard everything I thought about him. Under my cheeks, my blood burns. Not with want, but with embarrassment and I hate it. I look down to my white sneakers. Maybe I’ll start with the treadmills today. I force myself one foot in front of the other over to the treadmills that sit side by side. I crank up the speed of the treadmill and I run my ass off. Very quickly my body begins to moan and complain, probably because I forgot to warm up. Beeps sound off on the treadmill next to me.
“Hey, Olly.”
It’s my Dad. I shouldn’t be too surprised to run into him here. It is his gym, after all. I suppress a groan. Dad and I have had a bit of a bumpy road since I moved out. The only time he finds the time to talk to me is when he’s trying to guilt trip me into moving back in. My older brother Chase gets to run around the world unbothered by our parents because he’s serving our country. God forbid I do something for myself.
I slow my machine down to a brisk pace to match his. I hate my nickname. I’ve been referred to as Olly for as long as I can remember. Dad and Blade are the only ones to get away with it.
Seeing Dad this morning is a little bit of a shock. He’s been absent from the gym for a few days and his assistant Derrick has been handling things. “Dad? I haven’t seen you around the gym in a while. I was getting worried.”
“But not worried enough to come home and check on me?”
I roll my eyes as he lifts off his bowlers cap with one hand and scratches his flat, grey hair with the other. He knew very well that if I so much as point one toe in the direction of the house, I’ll never be allowed to leave.
“I’ve been busy visiting your Aunt Kate.” He informs me. “Your cousin Tracey gave birth to a baby boy yesterday. He has my nose.”
“Poor kid,” I joke, unable to contain a snicker.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re hilarious, I get it.”
I smile at him.
“What’s been happening with you?” He asks.
I groan and flick my long ponytail over my other shoulder. “I broke up with Blade last night. He left me at Salsa’s again.”
Dad shakes his head. “I told you he was bad news. That kid has no respect. I knew he was an ungrateful prick the moment I laid eyes on him.” He places a soft hand on top of mine. “It’s his loss, honey. You’re a good girl and if my mate’s sons weren’t already married I’d put in a good word for you.”
I laugh. “It’s the thought that counts.” I look beyond Dad and the stranger is back to punching his bag. His hard pecs contract every time he makes contact and I imagine running my tongue slowly over his erect nipples. What is wrong with me?
“Hey, who’s that guy?” I ask, flicking my head in his direction.
Dad turns around. “The guy with the muscles?” He faces me and I nod. “You really don’t know who he is?”
“Am I supposed to?”
“It’s Seth Marc,” Jesus, even his name makes my insides melt. “He just moved to Portland from Seattle. He’s a great MMA fighter—or at least he was.”
I arch an eyebrow.
“The guy was so close to going pro when he turned twenty one. He competed in an amateur MMA comp, but he dropped out seconds before the championship bout. It had something to do with family drama. His comeback has been all over the internet.”
I sigh. “Honestly, I don’t go on the internet much.”
“Yeah, well, don’t distract the guy. He’s got tough competition in the upcoming tournament that he needs to smash if he wants to get into the pros.” Dad turns off his treadmill. “I gotta go, kid. I’ll talk to ya later.”
Before he walks completely away, he turns abruptly. “Come over for dinner next Sunday. Your mama is killing me. She wants to see you more often.”
I nod. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Dad rolls his eyes and leaves me looking at Seth. He’s literally sex in hand wraps and the way he smiled at me is burnt into my brain. Looking at him now with the way his brows are pulled together and his lips pressed into a straight line—I never would have thought he’s capable of smiling. I turn my treadmill off and grab my backpack. I’m done working out for the day—not that it helped any. I’m even more wound up now than I was before I got to the gym and I have a funny feeling that the only thing that’s going to help me is Seth and his tongue. I exhale, pulling my shirt down again. Who am I kidding? I’d never approach a guy like him. There’s too much alpha male going on. He oozes authority and aggression. He’s a lion and I’m a mouse—he’d swallow me whole and not in the good way. I turn toward the female shower room, keeping my head down and straight, until a bouncy brunette enters the gym and demands attention. In her tight tube dress and with heels, no doubt higher than her morals (I’m aware that’s not an accepted form of measurement, but it makes me feel better thinking it), she prances right over to Seth. Of course he is with her. Why wouldn’t he be? Her body is slim and her boobs are big and fake. He does strike me as the kind of guy who enjoys that sort of thing and she is pretty in that fake, comes-off-with-a-wipe kind of way.
Her back is to me as she wraps her long, skinny arms around his neck, pulling him into her so his head rests on the nape of her shoulder. From under his brow, his eyes flicker onto me and... Damn it! I’m staring at him again, only this time I can’t look away. His dark, mesmerizing gaze has me trapped. They hug for a while and the whole time he watches me with a knowing, yet curious gleam in his eyes. Seth pulls away from her and when his eyes finally release me, I turn on my heel and practically run to the showers.
The shower room is a little tight and there are only two shower booths. The other four showerheads are out in the open. I’m not shameless enough to shower in front of other people, but the old woman showering freely when I walked in seemed to have no quarrels with me seeing her naked. I, on the other hand, squeezed my eyes shut and I dove for the nearest booth.
The water is nice on my skin. A little too cold for my liking, but I need it to be. If I was going to make it through the day without touching myself to relieve whatever it is that has me wound tighter than a Goddamn jack-in-the-box, then I need something to cool me down. I’ve never been a sexual person, but right now I’m the horniest I’ve ever been in my life and it’s all because a guy at the gym looked at me.
How lame.
I like sex, but Blade has been my only sexual partner and the sex really isn’t anything to brag about. It goes for a few minutes and then that’s it. The only way I’ve been able to achieve orgasm is if I do it myself.
I dry myself off and slip into some underwear. I pull on some black stockings and then zip myself into my black dress before sliding into a nice pair of cream wedges. After I gather my things, I make my way over to the sinks with the foggy-like mirrors. Even after the cool shower my cheeks are still a little flushed. I rub on my foundation to lessen the pinkish hue and it works to a degree. After applying some subtle eye make-up, I pull my long, damp hair into a makeshift bun. It’s a little messy, but it looks deliberate and I really can’t be bothered fixing it. I pull my cell phone out of my bag and fling my bag over my shoulder. The old woman is still shamelessly showering away when I leave the room and as I stroll down the hallway, I switch my phone on and immediately I’m bombarded with text messages and voicemails from Blade, my mom and my best friend Selena.
FROM: SELENA 12:00 A.M.
Why is Blade calling me non-stop?
Please tell me it’s for real and
You dumped his arrogant ass?
FROM: SELENA 12:15 A.M.
Answer me dammit!
I don’t know if I should open
champagne or not. The suspense
is killing me!!!
FROM: SELENA 12:30 A.M.
I opened the champagne anyway.
I giggle to myself. Selena is always looking for an excuse to drink alcohol. I think she’s already had three birthdays this year because of it. I hit reply.
TO: SELENA 8:15 A.M.
Yep, it’s over between us.
The bastard left—
“Unf.” I grunt as I walk into a hard body. My phone slips from my hands and hits the floor. Thankfully, the screen remains crack free.
“Sorry.” I groan, kneeling down to pick up my phone. I pick it up off the floor and then I freeze. My hand tightens convulsively around the device as I notice the person standing in front of me is wearing a pair of black drawstring pants. Slowly, my eyes travel up his body. No, no, no, no. Please, God let it be anyone but him. My gaze meets his hard, sweaty chest and then flicks up to a pair of dark, chocolate eyes that have little golden rivers of honey that branch throughout them. I swallow hard. He’s inches away from me, standing as still as stone and staring down at me. I feel my knees begin to shake as I peer shyly up at him through my dark lashes. He extends a long, fingered hand to me and I instantly take it.
“Did I get you wet?” He asks in a voice that is so sinfully deep I immediately get a shiver down my spine. He helps me to my feet, but doesn’t let go of my hand. His skin is hot and my blood simmers as a result. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as a telltale blush springs to my cheeks.
“What?”
“Did I get you wet?” He repeats slower this time, emphasizing each word. “I’m covered in sweat.”
“Oh, right.” I glance down at my dress. There are a few damp patches that are blacker than the rest, but nothing too serious or gross. I don’t even think the word gross can be used in a sentence with this man. “You didn’t get too much on me.”
“What’s your name?” He asks, leaning closer to me.
“Olivia.”
Seth’s mouth molds into a breathtaking smile and I’m unsuccessful at tearing my eyes away from his as he draws my hand to his mouth and softly places his lips on my knuckles. I gasp as he tugs on me, pulling me in close. My free hand flies up and rests against his hard chest in attempt to stop myself from fully pressing against him. Pure, white-hot lust tears through my body and spills over every organ and every bone before settling between my thighs. Our bodies are so close and I stare into his dark eyes completely disarmed and confused. Am I dreaming? I can feel his body heat radiating onto me—entering me. I glance past him and the brunette, his girlfriend, is glowering at us. I take a deep controlled breath before pulling my hand back. If my hand had a mind of its own it’d undoubtedly slap me. He seems amused by the way I regard him and bites back a smile.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I say, dropping eye contact. “I’m running late for work.”
Damn! If only I didn’t have work, I’d stay in the gym all day. I step past him and keep my head down as I pass his girlfriend. Behind me, the angry brunette’s voice is rambling about how disrespectful he is being to her and I think I hear him chuckle. Without a glance over my shoulder, I flee from the gym.
Chapter Three
I sit at work typing names and taking calls. I try hard to focus on the tasks at hand, but I can’t stop thinking about Seth or his body. Or his black hair. Or the way his lips felt on my hand. Or his dark eyes. I squeeze my thighs tighter and suddenly, I have an insatiable craving for chocolate and honey. I shake my head. Underneath my strange and abrupt desire for Seth, the stranger at the gym, there’s a guilty feeling swirling around my stomach like I’ve done something wrong. I broke up with Blade last night so technically I’m a single woman...so why do I feel so dirty?
I enjoy working as a receptionist, but I’ve been glancing around the same spacious, sterile waiting room for the last two years and I just can’t seem to find enough motivation to quit here. I hope one day I can actually do something different with my life like become an author or direct movies. I’ve always wanted to be able to tell a story in some way. Writing seems more achievable and if I had a choice, I’d be a famous romance author. There’s just something about a healthy love and a happy ending that inspires me. Of course, my mother doesn’t consider writing an actual career, neither does Blade. “Writing is a dead end career. You’ll run out of unrealistic stories eventually. Become a therapist or a psychologist, then you’ll always be busy. People have endless problems that they want to discuss all of the time.” Mom would say. At least she had a point—not that I agree with it. Blade said things like “People don’t read anymore,” or “It sucks.” Since when does reading suck? Who says that? If I ran the world, people who didn’t read would be the first to go. Boom. Put them out of their misery.
I put a piece of paper through the shredder and my mind falls back onto Seth Marc. I still feel his hands on my skin and his lips on my knuckles. I’ve never been so captivated by the opposite sex before. I’m a little angry that he so openly flirted with me when is girlfriend was in the same building. That is not okay and I hate myself for being weak. I never want to be the girl a guy cheats with because I know what it’s like to be the girl that gets cheated on and it sucks. I can fantasize and perve on him in the gym though, can’t I? I mean, where’s the harm in that? The way he looked at me with that unapologetic stare makes me feel dizzy and I subconsciously squeeze my thighs together. He’s definitely the kind of guy moms warn their daughters about—the kind that breaks hearts and leaves a long line of them behind him. Strangely, he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy you can avoid. I imagine he’d be relentless in pursuing what he wants. Who am I kidding? There’s no way he wants me. I have an over-active imagination... maybe that’s all it is. I tap my pen in an uneven rhythm on the desk. But he did pull me into him...