Page 34
Story: Power Twist
“Listen,” I say with a grimace as I push off the blue mat to my elbows. “I've never done this before, okay?”
“Obviously.” Her dark eyes narrow as they scan me from head to toe. “Have you ever even lifted a weight?”
“On purpose?” I ask, holding back my smile.
Sarah's lips twitch in a suppressed smirk. With a sigh, she reaches out her hand, which I grasp, allowing her to haul me upright. “Yes, on purpose.” Again she looks across the room to the two men who are basically eating popcorn while they watch this mess of a training session. “You need to get her on some kind of workout routine before I can do anything. Cardio, weights, and core. She's weak.”
“I would take that as an insult, but it's true,” I say with a shrug, then wince at the pain that bolts through my shoulder at the movement. “I am slightly embarrassed. Last year was all about gaining weight, not really anything else. I had this special diet that Kyle put me on, which helped.” My sweaty palms slide along my fuller waist and hips. “You should've seen me before.”
Kyle said I looked like a meth addict, and he wasn't far off. Somehow during my lifetime, balancing between poverty and the lower class, food always took the back seat. Plus when I'm stressed, I can't eat—just the thought of it is revolting—so yeah, I was slightly underweight before Kyle's dietitian helped out. Now I'm full in all the right places. Padding around my hips, thin waist but not in the sickly way it was before, and somehow my ass has rounded to a perfect shape. I should write a quick thank-you note to the ass gods for that one.
“Now we add in adding muscle,” Sarah says with a sharp slap to my ass. I yelp and hop out of her reach. “Keep up with the diet, but ask them to add in more protein. You'll need it.”
“I'll get her a workout routine written up,” Trey says behind me. I look over my shoulder to where he leans against the far wall. “Three days a week?”
“Four,” Sarah quickly responds. “One of those days needs to be dedicated to core. If she can't protect herself, then all this is a waste. And honey,” she says, pointing to Trey, “I ain't got time to waste.”
His shoulders tighten and I swear he stands a bit straighter. “Yes, ma'am.”
“Fuck, baby, you look good in those shorts.” Eyes only on Sarah, T steps onto the mat and wraps both hands around her bare waist, then slides lower, palming her generous ass over her tight shorts. “My shift ends in two hours, and I can't wait—”
“La, la, la la,” I yell, putting my fingers into my ears. “I don't want to hear that.”
“Jealous?” Sarah says, leaning in and wrapping her arms around T's thick neck.
“Yes,” I shout while stomping my foot. “He's the one who….” Hmm, how do I say this? “I can't have what I want because of him.”
“What or who?” Sarah says with a knowing wink. “T's a gossip, Randi. I know all about you and the man child over there.” She tilts her head toward Trey in the corner, her long dark braid swinging along her back with the motion. “Believe me, I'm on your side.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“We've talked about this, baby,” T says into her ear. “Don't get in the middle of my work and I won't get into the middle of yours.”
With a single push, Sarah detaches from T. His eyes narrow, but an intense heat flares behind them. Sarah steps left. T steps right. The two circle the mat, eyes only on each other. T shrugs out of his jacket and tosses it on the ground before working his tie off and adding it to the pile.
A warm hand rests on my shoulder and tugs me backward.
“Best to stay out of their way. This is their foreplay,” Trey whispers into my ear. “I shouldn't say anything, but fuck, you stink, Mess.”
I relish the pain the quick movement causes me as my shoulder pops up into Trey's jaw.
“Oops.”
“Oh, you'll pay for that later.” His nose skims up my neck as he takes an exaggerated whiff. “After you shower, of course.”
“Kick his ass, Sarah,” I yell, trying to distract myself from Trey's presence behind me.
“Hey.” T pouts without taking his eyes off his wife. “Don't gang up on me.”
“You’re the one who put the stupid hands-off rule in place,” Sarah jumps in, defending me.
“Yeah!” I shout. A low chuckle sounds behind me.
“You know that man child wouldn't do anything stupid, yet you laid down a line in the sand because you need to control everything.”
“Honey, stop while you’re ahead,” T grumbles.
“Obviously.” Her dark eyes narrow as they scan me from head to toe. “Have you ever even lifted a weight?”
“On purpose?” I ask, holding back my smile.
Sarah's lips twitch in a suppressed smirk. With a sigh, she reaches out her hand, which I grasp, allowing her to haul me upright. “Yes, on purpose.” Again she looks across the room to the two men who are basically eating popcorn while they watch this mess of a training session. “You need to get her on some kind of workout routine before I can do anything. Cardio, weights, and core. She's weak.”
“I would take that as an insult, but it's true,” I say with a shrug, then wince at the pain that bolts through my shoulder at the movement. “I am slightly embarrassed. Last year was all about gaining weight, not really anything else. I had this special diet that Kyle put me on, which helped.” My sweaty palms slide along my fuller waist and hips. “You should've seen me before.”
Kyle said I looked like a meth addict, and he wasn't far off. Somehow during my lifetime, balancing between poverty and the lower class, food always took the back seat. Plus when I'm stressed, I can't eat—just the thought of it is revolting—so yeah, I was slightly underweight before Kyle's dietitian helped out. Now I'm full in all the right places. Padding around my hips, thin waist but not in the sickly way it was before, and somehow my ass has rounded to a perfect shape. I should write a quick thank-you note to the ass gods for that one.
“Now we add in adding muscle,” Sarah says with a sharp slap to my ass. I yelp and hop out of her reach. “Keep up with the diet, but ask them to add in more protein. You'll need it.”
“I'll get her a workout routine written up,” Trey says behind me. I look over my shoulder to where he leans against the far wall. “Three days a week?”
“Four,” Sarah quickly responds. “One of those days needs to be dedicated to core. If she can't protect herself, then all this is a waste. And honey,” she says, pointing to Trey, “I ain't got time to waste.”
His shoulders tighten and I swear he stands a bit straighter. “Yes, ma'am.”
“Fuck, baby, you look good in those shorts.” Eyes only on Sarah, T steps onto the mat and wraps both hands around her bare waist, then slides lower, palming her generous ass over her tight shorts. “My shift ends in two hours, and I can't wait—”
“La, la, la la,” I yell, putting my fingers into my ears. “I don't want to hear that.”
“Jealous?” Sarah says, leaning in and wrapping her arms around T's thick neck.
“Yes,” I shout while stomping my foot. “He's the one who….” Hmm, how do I say this? “I can't have what I want because of him.”
“What or who?” Sarah says with a knowing wink. “T's a gossip, Randi. I know all about you and the man child over there.” She tilts her head toward Trey in the corner, her long dark braid swinging along her back with the motion. “Believe me, I'm on your side.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“We've talked about this, baby,” T says into her ear. “Don't get in the middle of my work and I won't get into the middle of yours.”
With a single push, Sarah detaches from T. His eyes narrow, but an intense heat flares behind them. Sarah steps left. T steps right. The two circle the mat, eyes only on each other. T shrugs out of his jacket and tosses it on the ground before working his tie off and adding it to the pile.
A warm hand rests on my shoulder and tugs me backward.
“Best to stay out of their way. This is their foreplay,” Trey whispers into my ear. “I shouldn't say anything, but fuck, you stink, Mess.”
I relish the pain the quick movement causes me as my shoulder pops up into Trey's jaw.
“Oops.”
“Oh, you'll pay for that later.” His nose skims up my neck as he takes an exaggerated whiff. “After you shower, of course.”
“Kick his ass, Sarah,” I yell, trying to distract myself from Trey's presence behind me.
“Hey.” T pouts without taking his eyes off his wife. “Don't gang up on me.”
“You’re the one who put the stupid hands-off rule in place,” Sarah jumps in, defending me.
“Yeah!” I shout. A low chuckle sounds behind me.
“You know that man child wouldn't do anything stupid, yet you laid down a line in the sand because you need to control everything.”
“Honey, stop while you’re ahead,” T grumbles.
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