Page 19 of Gym Bros (Bay Area Bros #2)
CALYX
I need someone to tell me that didn’t just happen. That I most definitely did not just make out on a dance floor with Marcus’s son. But my erection loudly disagrees as I push my way through the crowd back to the booth.
He’s behind me. I feel him there like a looming horny presence with a gigantic cock I just smashed my abs into with the I’m-oh-so-into-this body roll I just pulled on him.
Stupid idiot.
Not him. Me . How drunk am I?
The booth is empty, goddamnit. Rachel and Priya are lost to the masses, but there are six shots left on the tray.
I pick a clear one, hoping for straight anything and gulp it.
A large hand appears to my left, grabbing a bottle of water, and Samuel slides into the booth, his arm draped over the back of the velvet sofa behind me.
I’m a flushed, flustered, mess—with a hard on. Thank God these pants aren’t tight. My nipples however—they feel awfully perky, and I know he’s checking them out. I just do.
He doesn’t say anything as he sips his water. The tequila shot doesn’t do much to wash the incredible taste of him out of my mouth, and the smell of him still clings to my clothes. It’s a fresh scent mingled with what I can only describe as virile masculinity. Super virile .
It’s quite a departure from the expensive colognes and aftershaves I’m accustomed to.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” I say, because one of us needs to say something.
“No? Why not?” he asks.
Because I fuck your father whenever he’s in town? “ Why were you flirting with me like that?” I ask, putting it on him.
“Couldn’t help it,” he says.
“That’s not an answer. Did you mean it, or are you trying to make a point?”
“A point?”
“Like punish me for being mean to you?” I basically splutter.
“Did that feel like punishment?” he asks, a note of genuine concern in his voice. Like he’s doubting his ability to kiss a person properly.
“I mean, it shut me up,” I say.
“Nope,” he says, his voice rough. “You’re still very much talking.”
“Maybe you should kiss me again, then,” I say, and immediately shake my head. That was not supposed to come out like that. I sound like I want him to, and I can’t possibly want that.
All too quickly though, his arm drops onto my shoulders, and he’s ducking his head.
His mouth finds mine, and I can’t fucking believe it.
I whimper in surprise and go limp against the seat as I helplessly open my mouth to let his tongue back inside.
He definitely does know how to kiss a person properly.
It’s actually the best I’ve ever been kissed—and I don’t even think there’s a close second. It’s all-consuming.
His hand is on my side, wrapped around my rib cage, and I’m literally arching to press closer. My arms are limp at my sides, but my legs are spread, and he’s just really going to town, isn’t he?
His kiss is softly devouring, causing my hips to move restlessly.
“Mmm…no,” I try to say.
“No?” he asks, his lips still touching mine.
I shake my head. He backs off, staring at me while I stare at him. I can appreciate a good looking man, and Samuel is definitely in that category, but the resemblance…
I have a weird feeling in my stomach. Not nausea exactly, but more than anxiety. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” I ask.
He nods, a man of too few words.
A young man. Very young.
I lick my lips and meet his gaze. “So what’s the plan? You gonna invite me back to your place?” Jesus. What the fuck?
His eyebrows lift. “I wasn’t, but…”
“Then what?” I ask again, desperate to recover from this lapse. “I was gonna teach you shoulder stand on Monday.”
“You can still do that. And I can still teach you a form if you want.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible.”
“Why?” he asks.
“Oh, I get it. You’re just having fun on your birthday,” I say with a measure of relief.
I even close my eyes, letting my guard down.
This is only superficial. I should have known that.
I’m not sure why I thought it was possibly more “meaningful”—maybe because he’s younger?
But I do look good tonight, and I was flirting with him today—a little—maybe.
Not on purpose, but certainly on the dance floor.
Okay, maybe talking about my panties was a little flirty, but I only meant it as a joke. I didn’t think he’d be into it .
It’s fine if he is. He’s allowed to want whatever he wants, but it’s up to me whether I give it to him or not.
Being wanted is nothing new for me. Desire is practically my brand.
I’m like a trophy fuck, and I do know how to separate sex from a working relationship.
The problem here is— he’s Marcus’s son , and I’m not in the mood to deal with that layer of complication on top of everything else even if Samuel’s kisses promise a decent time.
“Look,” I say. “There are plenty of people here who I’m sure would gladly go home with you and show you a nice time.”
“I just said I wasn’t trying to take you home,” he reminds me, but I can hear the lie, and I call him on it.
“The way you’re looking at me says otherwise.”
“I can’t help that.”
“I really thought you were straight,” I say.
“I thought I was, too. But then I moved here. Met you.”
“Okay,” I say, squirming to get away from him. “I get it. I know what I look like, but remember that time I made you cry? You don’t actually want me.”
“I don’t really know you,” he says.
“Exactly.”
“But I liked dancing with you.”
I narrow my eyes. “So?”
“So I could get to know you.”
That sounds like a terrible idea. “No,” I say.
“No?”
I shake my head, meaning it. “No, we shouldn’t do that. Not like that .”
“You didn’t like it?”
Fuck him, oh my God. Why is this even a question? Why didn’t I see this coming? “The kissing?” I ask, positive I look like a deer caught in headlights.
“Was it bad? ”
“No,” I say weakly.
“Was it…good?”
I glare at him. “It shouldn’t have happened.”
“You told me I could.”
“I know that,” I snap. “I also told you I’m a little drunk.”
He shrugs. “So am I.”
“Oh, I don’t believe that for a second. With that body?”
I get another eyebrow lift for that. “Let me take you on a date,” he says.
“What?” I practically squeak. “No!”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t date . And you’re…” I catch myself just in time to not tell him all the reasons this is bad bad bad .
He’s too young for me. He’s not my type. He’s Marcus’s son. He doesn’t want me like that.
“My client.” I say because that’s a safe and good enough reason to refuse.
“You don’t date?” Samuel asks. “Ever?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“I’m in my single era.”
He huffs a short laugh. “Okay.”
“So you’ll back off?” I ask.
“I’m backing off,” Samuel says, both hands off me, held up in surrender, but his smile is amused.
“What’s funny?”
“Literally nothing,” he says, wryly. “I’m gonna go.”
“Wait—what? Don’t do that. Rachel’s gonna kill me if I run you off.” I’m guessing that wasn’t his amused smile. It was his resigned one.
He waves at the table—all the shots. “Whoever paid for all this, tell them thanks. And for brunch and yoga. It was fun for a while. ”
I grab his arm before he can get up. “Don’t go . We can still have fun.”
He glances around the club, then his gaze rests on me again. “This isn’t really my scene. But thanks for the dance. And the kiss.”
“Samuel.” I can hear the pleading note in my voice. Why it’s there, I’m too buzzed to pick apart, but I don’t want him to go like this. I even have this wild urge to sit on top of him and hold him down, but I realize that would definitely send the wrong signal. “Will you be at the gym Monday?”
He grimaces. “Yeah.”
“And we can put this behind us?”
For the first time, he rolls his eyes at me . I get why he doesn’t like when I do it.
“Whatever,” he says, easily peeling my death grip off his arm and standing. He grabs a water to go. “Good night.”
I’m still a limp noodle. “Sam…”
With one last lingering glance at me from those sparkling, long-lashed eyes, he disappears into the mass of people.
I drink some water, too, parched.
Priya shows up a few minutes later, glowing with sweat. “Where’s Saber?”
“He left,” I say weakly.
“Why?”
“I let him kiss me, and then I told him I wouldn’t go out with him.”
“I’m sorry—what?”
She plops down beside me and throws back one of the remaining shots like it’s nothing. She’s not acting even slightly drunk, and who knows how many of these she’s had?
“I was flirting— he was flirting. We were dancing. Maybe I pressed the issue?”
“Did you? And? ”
“And it was a mistake. I’m fucking his dad,” I add in a stage whisper.
“Does he know that?”
“Fuck, no. I hope not. He doesn’t act like he does.”
“I mean, you don’t have to keep fucking his dad. It’s not like that shit’s going anywhere. Samuel , however… He’s single, he’s hot. Obviously into you.”
“He’s not into me. He’s just horny. Plus, he’s my client .”
She gives me a disappointed look. “Oh, come on. Look, I know you claim to like the silver fox type?—”
“Marcus doesn’t have a strand of silver on his body?—”
She goes on like I didn’t even speak. “But what’s the point? Today was the first time I’ve heard your real laugh in months .”
I frown at her. “So I’ve been a little down. It’s got nothing to do with the men I see.”
She puts her hands on my shoulders and waits for me to look her in the eyes. “Listen to me. The men you see—or man—should make you happy . And if you’re choosing not to see anyone, then that should make you happy, too. You’re not happy, Calyx.”
“Are you?” I challenge.
“ I am living my best life. Do I have bad days? Obviously—life sucks. But I’m still trying new things. I’m sticking with what I already know brings me joy. You’re like— hiding .”
Generally, I try not to scowl because it adds lines to my face, and I’m not getting any younger, but it’s unavoidable. “What makes you think giving him a chance would bring me anything other than a few hickeys and a decent lay?”