Page 44
Story: Garrison's Creed
Jab. Jab again. He caught her hand before it fully extended. He took a side step and countered. A leg hooked behind, and down she went. Cash was over her, hovering so close, so sexual. Broad arms trapped her. His heavy weight held her in place. He smelled like masculine effort. Salt from her sweat teased her lips. The air was charged. Hair stuck to his damp forehead. The scent of fresh perspiration tightened her stomach. His beautiful sapphire eyes shone, pinning her to the ground. The air vacuumed out of the gym, and she was done.
She tapped the mat.
Once.
Twice.
Released, Cash rolled off her and lay next to her on the blue athletic pad. She studied the ceiling. He had the win. He’d earned his kiss. Their kiss. Her body tingled, not from the body slams and mat burns, but the vivid flashback of the grassy field interlude. She shivered, despite the warm temperature and the hand-to-hand workout.
Nicola turned her gaze from the ceiling lights and crashed headfirst into Cash’s gorgeous gaze. Her heart squeezed ripcord tight and forgot to beat. Sweat dampened his cotton shirt, and his mesh shorts stuck to the rippled muscles in his thighs. Not an ounce of fat. Nothing but lean, mean, 100% Grade A Cash.
He would look spectacular naked. Sculpted and tan. Blonde chest hair and cut muscles. Memories raced. A fresh round of shivers skipped down her neck and chest, hardening nipples under her tight spandex shirt.
“You’re good, Nic.”
She mumbled a response, not even aware of its meaning, and looked past him to the row of equipment. Free weights. Treadmill. Heavy bag.
“Feel better now?” he asked.
Nicola propped up on her elbows, but her head hung back. She didn’t want to see him answer her question. “Better question is, do you?”
“Meaning?”
“You thought I hadn’t been trained.”
“You’re CIA. Logically, I know you’ve undergone the best that the best has to offer. But it’s hard to connect the woman I knew to the woman with roundhouse kicks and evasive maneuvers, catching her breath next to me.”
Now she looked at him. She couldn’t help it. “Do you like her? I mean, me? Who I am now?”
He propped up on an elbow. “Yeah, Nic.” He pushed a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “I really do.”
She was suddenly aware of her thumping heart—the same heart that went on boycott a tense moment before—and her nerves responding to his smoldering look. She had to change the subject to something, anything else. Sitting up, she dusted off her hands. “I need to thank Mia for the clothes. I didn’t think I’d log any gym time this weekend and didn’t pack anything for a workout.”
He chuckled. “Are you nervous around me?”
Maybe.“Of course not. You’re so damn cocky, Cash.” She jumped up, ready to run. Cash stayed on the floor, eyeing her, knowing her far better than she liked to admit.
“’Cause you seem to do just fine when we clash, but given a quiet moment, you smooth your clothes or pick a fight.”
“How very observant of you.” She tried very hard not to fidget with her shirt.
“Right there. Hear it in your voice? That’s a fighting tone.” His voice drawled, hinting at their Virginia roots. “I observe. It’s what I do.”
“You’re a sniper. That’s what you do.”
“Nah, sweet girl. That’s just my specialty. I observe. I conclude. I react.”
“Good for you. Night.” She had to get away from him. It was confirmed, without a sliver of hesitation. She wanted Cash. Needed and craved him. Desperation would take her down, and he’d see her come apart. Her pulse raced, but her fingertips ached to run across his lips, just to take in their softness again.
“Nic, wait.” She heard him slap the mat. Halfway to the gym door, she turned around. No other man on Earth could sound so distant and still mean so much to her. “I’m sorry.”
Sorry for what?He had spoken the truth. No surprises there. Her chest ached.
“No prob,” she lied, still needing to get away from him. A flick of a wave and she was out the door. It slammed behind her.
***
The caged, florescent lights above his head were set on motion detectors, and one by one, they blacked out. Click. Click. Click. Surrounded by darkness, Cash sat with his thoughts. It made for a lonely moment and summed up the last decade. Granted, he hadn’t physically been alone, but he sure as shit felt that way.
She tapped the mat.
Once.
Twice.
Released, Cash rolled off her and lay next to her on the blue athletic pad. She studied the ceiling. He had the win. He’d earned his kiss. Their kiss. Her body tingled, not from the body slams and mat burns, but the vivid flashback of the grassy field interlude. She shivered, despite the warm temperature and the hand-to-hand workout.
Nicola turned her gaze from the ceiling lights and crashed headfirst into Cash’s gorgeous gaze. Her heart squeezed ripcord tight and forgot to beat. Sweat dampened his cotton shirt, and his mesh shorts stuck to the rippled muscles in his thighs. Not an ounce of fat. Nothing but lean, mean, 100% Grade A Cash.
He would look spectacular naked. Sculpted and tan. Blonde chest hair and cut muscles. Memories raced. A fresh round of shivers skipped down her neck and chest, hardening nipples under her tight spandex shirt.
“You’re good, Nic.”
She mumbled a response, not even aware of its meaning, and looked past him to the row of equipment. Free weights. Treadmill. Heavy bag.
“Feel better now?” he asked.
Nicola propped up on her elbows, but her head hung back. She didn’t want to see him answer her question. “Better question is, do you?”
“Meaning?”
“You thought I hadn’t been trained.”
“You’re CIA. Logically, I know you’ve undergone the best that the best has to offer. But it’s hard to connect the woman I knew to the woman with roundhouse kicks and evasive maneuvers, catching her breath next to me.”
Now she looked at him. She couldn’t help it. “Do you like her? I mean, me? Who I am now?”
He propped up on an elbow. “Yeah, Nic.” He pushed a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “I really do.”
She was suddenly aware of her thumping heart—the same heart that went on boycott a tense moment before—and her nerves responding to his smoldering look. She had to change the subject to something, anything else. Sitting up, she dusted off her hands. “I need to thank Mia for the clothes. I didn’t think I’d log any gym time this weekend and didn’t pack anything for a workout.”
He chuckled. “Are you nervous around me?”
Maybe.“Of course not. You’re so damn cocky, Cash.” She jumped up, ready to run. Cash stayed on the floor, eyeing her, knowing her far better than she liked to admit.
“’Cause you seem to do just fine when we clash, but given a quiet moment, you smooth your clothes or pick a fight.”
“How very observant of you.” She tried very hard not to fidget with her shirt.
“Right there. Hear it in your voice? That’s a fighting tone.” His voice drawled, hinting at their Virginia roots. “I observe. It’s what I do.”
“You’re a sniper. That’s what you do.”
“Nah, sweet girl. That’s just my specialty. I observe. I conclude. I react.”
“Good for you. Night.” She had to get away from him. It was confirmed, without a sliver of hesitation. She wanted Cash. Needed and craved him. Desperation would take her down, and he’d see her come apart. Her pulse raced, but her fingertips ached to run across his lips, just to take in their softness again.
“Nic, wait.” She heard him slap the mat. Halfway to the gym door, she turned around. No other man on Earth could sound so distant and still mean so much to her. “I’m sorry.”
Sorry for what?He had spoken the truth. No surprises there. Her chest ached.
“No prob,” she lied, still needing to get away from him. A flick of a wave and she was out the door. It slammed behind her.
***
The caged, florescent lights above his head were set on motion detectors, and one by one, they blacked out. Click. Click. Click. Surrounded by darkness, Cash sat with his thoughts. It made for a lonely moment and summed up the last decade. Granted, he hadn’t physically been alone, but he sure as shit felt that way.
Table of Contents
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