Page 31 of Forgotten Comeback

I fall back on my haunches, shaking out my hands. Red hair catches my attention, and I jump to my feet and hustle to the weights area.

“Is there a trainer, or do we do our own thing?” Kat asks Taylor, whose ass is looking extra voluptuous in those skin-tight leggings.

“I could help you lovely ladies.” I sidle up beside them.

“Kat, you’ve met Gavin,” Taylor says with thinly veiled hostility.

“Unofficially,” Kat says.

“Kat, still waiting to make it official.” I make a show of winking at Kat just to poke Taylor.

Kat snorts. “You’re still a shameless flirt.”

“Guilty as charged.” I smile unrepentant before sauntering off. Selecting a pair of hand weights from the rack, I glance in the mirror; Taylor’s shooting daggers at me.

I make a kissy-kissy face, even though I want to get inherfaceand demand why she blocked me. Was the dick pic a good idea? Obviously, I thought so at the time… I mean, no woman has ever complained before.

Taylor marches over and begins loading a barbell, and I drop my weights and grab the plate, helping her load the other side. “Are you trying to fuck every woman in my life?” She stares me down.

“If I were trying to fuck every woman in your life, I’d have already done so,” I taunt her.

She makes a gagging sound. “Your vanity knows no bounds.”

“How’s your orgasm-free relationship going?” I throw a verbal jab.

Taylor narrows her eyes. “Somebody is way too concerned with my sex life.”

“Somebody should be,” I inform her. “Guarantee Mia doesn’t make you come the way I did.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Taylor hisses. “You’re taking credit for the orgasm I gavemyself?”

“So you just happened to be watching me jerk my dick, eyes never leaving mine when you squirted across the room?” The sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Maybe that’s why I can’t get this woman out of my head.

“Go find a fitness model to stroke your ego. And your flaccid dick,” she tells me dismissively. “I’m here to work out.”

My head falls back with laughter. “Taylor, you know damn well there’s nothing flaccid about my dick.”

“When’s the wedding?”

I raise an eyebrow in confusion. “What wedding?”

She nods to my crotch. “Between you and your dick, seeing as you love it so much.”

My lips quirk. “I’m not sure you’re invited, seeing as how you blocked me.”

“Aww, did I bruise your ego?” Taylor mocks.

“You did.” I solemnly nod. “Seems only fair I get to bruise something of yours in return.” I cast my eyes to the delicate column of her throat. “How’s your gag reflex?”

“I’m a projectile vomiter,” she says primly.

My lips lift at the corners. “Makes sense, considering you’re a squirter.”

“Go away, little fuckboy,” she says in a bored tone.

I grab the bar with one hand and easily lift it; alright, so Imightbe trying to impress this woman. Because, dammit, nothing’s worked so far. “Come on. I’ll spot you.”

“This is the only way you’ll ever get me on my back,” Taylor taunts, lying down on the bench press.