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“One… two… three…” I lift her. She’s as light as a feather, so delicate and small in my hands. “Have you got a tight hold of the bar?” I ask.

“Uh huh.” Her body tenses under my hold, and truthfully, I feel wound as tight as she is. I don’t know why I am doing this, but I can’t stop now.

I release her from my hold, and ump up to hold on to the bar as well, getting myself in a comfortable position so we are face to face.

“I don’t think I can hold on,” she says hurriedly, a little panic in her tone as she looks up at her hands hanging from the bar above us.

“Swing your legs and wrap them around my waist, and I’ll guide you,” I say gruffly.

She looks at me with wide eyes.

I repeat the words. “Wrap your legs around my waist and rest your weight on me.” In a controlled way that only an experienced gymnast or dancer would do, she lifts her toned legs and hooks them around my waist; her crotch now pressed just above where my hardening dick sits. Our chests pressed together so we are almost nose to nose.

I swallow, clearing my throat, needing a moment to focus before we move.

“When I move, you move with me and mirror me, okay?” I instruct.

“Okay.”

“Good girl,” I tease, earning a small smile from her and then I pull my body up, taking hers with me. She does as I saidand mirrors my movements. I watch in fascination as the small muscles in her sculpted arms flex as she pulls her body up and down. We make it to five pull ups before the friction of her body against the head of my dick becomes unbearable.

Her eyes flutter shut.

“Hey, eyes on me, Gabriella. You can’t close your eyes when you’re with me.”

She opens her eyes, her amber irises fixed on me as if she were trying to understand what I meant by that comment. I’m unsure myself. We continue to move and the usual burn I would feel in my body is overshadowed by the sight of her moving up and down in front of me. The placement of her hands above her head forces her breasts together. Visions of her bouncing up and down on my hard cock while I pin her hands behind her runs through my mind and a groan works its way up my throat. The noise startles us both, her eyes widen once again, and I grind my teeth together, angry for letting my thoughts get the better of me.

We reach fifteen pull ups and before I explode in my running shorts or lift her down and bend her over, I decide now is a good time to end this torture.

“Unhook your legs,” I say quietly. As soon as she does, I instantly miss the warmth her body gave me.

I jump down and then place my hands back on her waist to lift her down.

“See, you’re a natural,” I say through panted breaths, stepping away from her, needing to create some distance.

She gives me a weak smile and shit, I need her to speak. To say something. Anything.

“I… I better get going,” she stammers, walking over to where her t-shirt and headphones lie. “We have a reservation at one of the pool cabanas, and Ali will kick my ass if we’re late.”

She nervously stumbles around the mats, gathering her things. It’s clear something has affected her. Is it me? Is she imagining riding me the way I was picturing her.

“Thanks for your help. Catch you later,” she yells as she pulls open the door, and then she’s gone.

I need to get a grip on this before she becomes my new addiction.

Chapter Nine

Gabriella

“… tuck that pelvis in ladies… good… hold for three,” I call out as I walk round the studio. It’s my last class of the day, and I am ready to collapse in a heap when I get home. I’ve been so busy since we got back from Vegas last week, and honestly, I’m grateful I have. It’s kept my brain busy and given me no time to think about Brad and the weird shift in our friendship. I’ve always found him attractive, but there are so many reasons I’d never even try to entertain the idea. He's older than me, more experienced than me, why would he want me? But the way his eyes danced over my body at me in the gym, the way his hands brushed my bare skin, and the way he made me feel safe in a way that only he seems to be able to do, gives me hope that maybe I could have someone like him fall for me.

“Okay, ladies, get comfortable, and we will do five minutes of meditation before we finish.” I change the track on my iPod, and the calm music hums through the speakers. I settle on my mat at the front of the glass and look on at the fifteen women.

It’s 6.55 pm and my heels class starts at 8pm across town. I need it. My mom has been messaging me all day, asking if I will be at dinner on Sunday. I haven’t seen her since before Vegas, and I know she’s getting twitchy to see me, or rather, quiz me about my date with Patrick. I haven’t heard from him, so it’s clear the feeling was mutual. Thank God.

After the class ends, I rush past reception and make my way to my car. A Beyonce track starts pumping through the speakers as I pull into traffic, and I relax into the seat, knowing I am done with my classes for the week and I have the weekend free before I fully devote myself to my friends’ wedding.

I pull into the dance studio’s car park, and as I gather my things, my phone chimes with a text message. I swipe the screen and my brows furrow when Patrick’s name flashes up.