Page 6 of The Pucking Fake Marriage (The Ice Kings #4)

FIVE

POWER PLAY (KEN)

“So…what are we doing here?”

I roll my eyes and march into the gym, Blake following a few paces behind. His face is twisted in suspicion, as if he knows exactly why we’re here and is merely waiting for me to say it out loud.

And that’s one thing I’m definitely not going to do.

“This place looks good,” I say instead. Blake casts a reluctant glance around. At least I’m not lying about that. With large, airy windows, rows and rows of equipment, and a general sense of calm and ease, this place rivals the gym at the Philly Titans’ arena.

“Not what I asked.” Trust Blake not to be deterred by me trying to throw him off.

I opt for the next best option: ignoring him. Stepping onto the nearest treadmill, I fling my towel across the handlebar and adjust the settings. Blake slides up to me, jamming his body into the space between my treadmill and the next.

“So, this girl lets you down hard when you’re eighteen, ten freaking years ago, and you still think it’s the best use of your time to stalk her?”

I bite back a mocking smile. “Thanks for the warm-up, dick.”

“That’s what we’re doing here, isn’t it?” He nods toward the window where we can catch a clear view of the building housing Charlie’s restaurant. “Hanging around this neighborhood, so you can hopefully catch a glimpse of the only woman in this entire city that dislikes you?”

Ouch.

I debated whether telling Blake and Alex about my past with Charlie was a good idea. But then, I didn’t have much of a choice. They were beyond confused about her attitude, more so by my need to defend her.

Some things never change.

But some things do, I remind myself, determination forming a large boulder in the pit of my stomach. Meeting her like that threw me off, and I hated the way that man was treating her. But I am no longer filled with the aching pangs that almost led to my destruction as a teenager.

She’s just a chick I want to fuck.

Badly.

My hands grip the handlebar more tightly as I pick up speed. My need for her has grown exponentially over the past few days, and I can’t quite figure out why. Because I’m pissed she ran off in Las Vegas and want to get back at her? Because I want her even more now that I know where she is?

“Forget it, bro,” Blake says, apparently reading my silence as acquiescence. He steps onto the next treadmill and starts a light jog. “She’s never going to go for you.”

I turn to him, my attention diverted. “How do you know that? ”

Blake looks like I’m foolish for even asking the question. “Remember the story you told me?”

I’m almost amused. Like I could forget the most harrowing event of my life.

“She dated your brother, rejected you when you made a pass, then canceled you for ten years. She sees you in Las Vegas, has a one nighter with you and disappears again. She didn’t even thank you for saving her from that madman in her restaurant. Bro, when will you get the memo that she’s not into you? There’re, like, a million girls in this city alone who’d love to suck your dick.”

I feel a leap of fury when I think of Kali and his trashy treatment of Charlie for years. I stomp down on the feeling before it takes even more control of me.

“I see your point,” I admit. He’s right. I’ve never fully accepted why Charlie went from being my friend to ghosting me after I confessed my love to her. I figured it had something to do with Kali breaking up with her a year later. But right now, I don’t care. That was a long time ago, and she holds a different fascination for me now.

And judging from how we reconnected back in Las Vegas, the feeling is mutual.

“I came to this gym because I pitied you,” Blake says, giving me a look. “Thought you might need a distraction, maybe till you figure out why you’re playing so badly. But I’m going to be honest. She’s not going to fall for you because you grew pecs.”

“Las Vegas…”

“She was probably bored and drunk.”

I resist the urge to punch him. Blake’s merely speaking as a friend. I’d probably be saying the same thing if I was in his shoes. But I know better now. I’m not the insecure boy I was ten years ago .

This thing with Charlie is going to happen again. Maybe only once, just to pay her back for running off on me. But I will fuck her again.

And this time, it’s going to be on my terms.

I will finish this workout, then head over to her restaurant. The day is going to end with me having Charlie in her own kitchen. The image of bending her over a counter, her tits press against the cold surface, hasn’t left me since this morning.

Damn it, I think, gripping the handlebar. Drops of sweat form on my forehead, but not from the workout.

She did a number on me in Las Vegas. Maybe even worse than the one she did to me as a teenager. The charm she had back then had me hung up on her like an addict. Now, I’m going to unravel her the only way I know how.

Through copious amounts of dick.

Blake whistles, pulling my thoughts back to him.

“Looks like your foolish plan might work,” he murmurs, looking at a spot behind me.

I turn around, my chest tightening. Charlie is walking into the gym, a mat rolled up underneath one arm. Her black hair is in a loose knot on the top of her head, exposing the soft angles of her face. She’s wearing a tank top and—my stomach tightens—a pair of leggings that cling to her thighs and hips like a second skin. Her cleavage is thrust out of the too-small sports bra nearly as far as it can go without outright spilling out.

Just seeing her looking like that makes me hard. The scene in my head also changes its setting from her kitchen to the gym bathroom.

She hasn’t caught sight of me yet. I step off the treadmill and start to move in her direction. Or at least, I’m about to do that …

When she heads straight for the weights rack, toward a man who’s just getting off the bench press, wiping the sweat on his arms with his towel.

“Hi!” Charlie’s perky voice fills the large space. Half of her face is visible to me, and I can see the broad grin plastered on it. She cocks her head to the side as the man looks at her. Her hand goes to her hair, untangling one of the locks from the bun and curling it around a finger.

A strong wave of déjà vu hits me. I’d seen teenage Charlie do that before, a million times, in fact.

It was what she did when she was with Kali. Toying with her hair, grinning like that, flirting…

“Oh, so that’s how she looks when she actually likes the person she’s talking to,” Blake says, amusement lining his voice. He’s stepped off the treadmill, watching Charlie with curiosity. I note in fury that Blake has never seen Charlie smile that much, not at me, anyway. Nor have I, since we were kids.

“Shut up,” I spit through gritted teeth. My stomach is frothing with rage. Yeah, I have absolutely no right to be mad.

But damn it, she’s mine. She’s mine until that Las Vegas shit gets out of my system. Then she’s free to go back to fucking with someone else’s head.

Within reason, I add, focusing on the man standing in front of Charlie, conversing with her in low tones. It surprises me that she might be into him. He’s ripped, but middle-aged with silver strands lining his full head of hair. Also, is it my imagination or does he look almost bored? I try to listen, but she’s speaking in much lower tones, and the steady hustle and bustle from other gym goers make it damn near impossible to make out a single word.

Blake clamps a hand on my shoulder. “Let it go, man. Really, I’m sorry this happened, but you’ve got to understand that watching her like this is creepy.” He still sounds very much amused.

I shrug off his hand. “Then I’m going to stop watching. ”

I start toward them, but before I can take a step, Blake yanks my arm and pulls me backward. “What are you doing?” he says, through gritted teeth. “You’re going to cause a scene, right here? Start a fight with this man too? Are you out of your damn mind?”

Glancing over at Charlie and the man, I realize that I wasn’t imagining it. The dude does look bored, maybe even a little impatient. “Yeah, I don’t think that’ll happen.” He doesn’t seem to be interested in Charlie. I can’t tell if that makes him a eunuch or the most pious man alive, but it does make me like him better. If I’m going to go over there, the only person I’ll piss off is Charlie.

And that’s a risk I’m willing to take.

I shrug off Blake’s hold and start off toward where they’re standing. I cross a row of hack squat machines, another row of leg presses, before I’m in full view of them. Charlie’s got her back to me, and seeing the flare of her hips and ass in those leggings only makes it that much easier to keep going. She turns her face in my direction for a second as she speaks, and I note to my chagrin that she’s still grinning. Worse, the man now looks somewhat interested in what she’s saying.

I’m only a few feet from them when I hear her say the word “loan.” Just then, the man spots me and looks up. Charlie turns around immediately.

A mingled look of shock and fury appears on her face, but not for long. As I watch, she breaks into a delighted smile and turns to the man.

Then, in what I can very well describe as the most shocking event of my life so far, she walks up to me, wraps her arms around my neck while letting her mat fall to the floor, and kisses me.

My shock freezes me for only a second. And then the smell of Charlie’s perfume invades my senses. Her tongue swipes over my lips, causing tingles to erupt all over my skin, and my brain shuts down. I forget everything—that she’s pissed me off over and over, that there’s a man watching us, and that we are in a gym filled with people.

All I can think of is that I’m holding her.

I surround her tiny waist with my much larger arms, pulling her in. I’m expecting that she’s going to draw back, but instead, she meshes her body even firmer against mine, a moan slipping from her lips. My erection comes back in full force, along with a yearning urge to touch her everywhere.

My hands slide slowly down her waist, my fingers finding the curve of her hips and ass. She feels even more divine than I remember, and that sends my nerves into a frantic fever dance. I cup the upper half of her bum, pulling her in possessively. A moan escapes her again, and I realize how much I need to hear that sound. How much I need to hear her say my name—scream my name. I grind my dick against her stomach, instinctively seeking the sweet release of being inside her.

And then it’s over. Charlie steps back, her face wearing the same smile she had when she first kissed me. She turns around with a grand flourish to the man, leaving me standing between them with my dick straining in my pants.

“Oh,” the man says, looking much more interested. “This is him?” he asks Charlie, who, for some reason, nods excitedly.

I glance from one face to another. What could Charlie have said about me? That I was her childhood friend? Doesn’t seem likely, seeing as that was such a long time ago. The blood still pulsating in my groin offers another explanation—maybe this dude is her friend or something, and she’d told him about that night in Las Vegas.

Now that’s an explanation I can get behind. Only, I’m going to need to confirm it.

“Him who?” I start to ask, but the man quickly steps forward.

“Congratulations,” he says. Suddenly, he’s leaning forward to take my limp hand and pump it up and down. “For this…” He nods at Charlie. “And…I shouldn’t say this, but I’m a Titans fan. You guys were great last season.”

What the hell is going on?

“Thank you,” I say. There’s nothing else to do. I’m merely meeting a starstruck fan, after all. One that seems far more interested in me than Charlie. If I’ve got any issues, they’re not with him.

“You could come by the bank again, Charlotte,” he says, now wiping sweat from his brow with his towel. “I’ll take a look at your application, and we can discuss how we can serve you better.”

Charlie looks weak with relief. “Thank you, Mr. Holloway. Thank you .”

The man strides off. I stare down at Charlie, whose look switches from joy to emotionless in record time.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she mutters under her breath, glancing at Mr. Holloway’s retreating form. “This isn’t your gym.”

“Didn’t seem to matter to you when you kissed me just now.” I cross my arms, my pleasure over the kiss evaporating. I’m starting to get the sickening feeling that Charlie’s playing me. I can’t imagine why, and for what, but I’m going to get to the root of it. “How do you know that man? ”

Her cheeks brighten with color. “You have no right to ask me anything.”

“You just kissed me and let me grope you in public.” Her cheeks get even redder. “I’m going to ask you whatever I want.”

Her brown eyes sparkle with an emotion I can’t quite name. Worry? Fear? It’s gone the next moment, and she bends down to retrieve her mat. The sight of her ass pushing up like that in the air unshackles the last of my restraint. Taking her arm, I yank her upright.

“Let go of me,” she whisper yells. “Now.”

“Pull yourself free.” My eyes meet hers in a silent battle. “Or are you too scared that Mr. Holloway’s going to turn around and find out you’re bullshitting him?”

I expect a retort. Anything. But she just stares at me, her eyes bright with hatred.

I’m getting more confused by the minute. And—my eyes rest on her exposed cleavage—I’m also getting hornier with every breath I take.

A terrible combination.

And the woman standing in front of me holds the keys to my satisfaction in both areas.

I’m unfamiliar with this gym, but I’ve been in enough of them to know the locker rooms are somewhere near the back. I pull her down the rows of equipment. Very few people are on this side of the floor, and the only person we pass is Mr. Holloway, who’s now using the spinning bike. Charlie’s anger seems to burn off when she sees him, and she waves gaily. The man grins back at me.

Not the best for my temper.

When I push her into a changing stall and lock the door behind us, I’m practically fuming. The space, made for one person, is tiny, and we can barely stand without our bodies touching. Charlie pins her back against the wall instantly, trying to get as far from me as possible. I block her in by fixing both of my arms on either side of her head.

“What the fuck are you up to, Charlie?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her eyes are grim and determined. She’s back to hating me. Hating me and freezing me out. The combination she’s perfected since the day I confessed my feelings to her.

Damn this woman.

The last shred of my self-control finally breaks. Curling my arm around her waist, I yank her up against me so our lower bodies are pressed together. I regret that a moment later, when my dick starts to throb. Charlie gasps, apparently feeling the sensation. I can’t bring myself to care. Making her uncomfortable feels like a small price to pay for everything she’s put me through.

“What did you tell Mr. Holloway about me? That we’re friends?”

“We’re not friends.” Her response is instant, cutting. Her eyes fill with regret a second later, but I can tell she’s not sorry about hurting me. Probably thinks it would have been better to agree with me than tell the truth.

A twinge of hurt burns in my chest at her quick admission. We were friends for a long time, until she threw it all away. And even after all these years, the tiniest part of me still stings because of her rejection.

But at least now I can do something about it.

“Damn right, we’re not,” I growl. Her eyes widen with surprise. I take her hand, pushing it between our bodies, pressing her palm against my aching dick. Charlie gasps, but the relief I feel at finally feeling her touch, even through layers of clothing, is earth-shattering. “Because if you were my friend, I wouldn’t be thinking of fucking you the way I have been, every single day for months now.”

Charlie lets out another sound, closer to the moan I’ve been longing to hear again. And then, slowly, so slowly that I cannot be sure I’m not imagining it, she curls her fingers around my cock, feeling for herself.

I collapse against the wall, almost crushing her. All of my animosity toward her disappears, along with every question I’ve got about Mr. Holloway. Hell, I wouldn’t even care if the sun came down and swallowed us both.

Filled with the need to touch more of her, I dig my hand into the waistband of her leggings. I brush past her panties, heading straight for her core. The space is warm and…moist. Dripping. Charlie was as affected at the kiss as I was.

She moans as I brush my fingers across her clit. Her body angles to me, silently begging for more. As much as I want to forget about it, my questions are seeping back into my head.

Along with a determination to seize control.

With my other hand, I free one of her tits from her top. It spills out, her pink nipple hardening under my glare. I hold the pebbled peak between thumb and forefinger, and a shiver runs through her.

“What game are you playing?” I whisper, my lips finding her ear.

She shakes her head. I brush against her clit again, and she trembles, pressing even closer to me. But she stays silent.

I squeeze her nipple tighter. Charlie moans again, her walls of resistance crumbling. She’s desperate for me to finger her, I know. Maybe even to fuck her. Looks like she won’t be opposed to it, what with the fact that she keeps leaking over my fingers.

“Damn it, Chapman. What the hell are you doing to me?” I ask, my voice coming out in a growl. The faster I figure out her game, the faster I can claim her and put an end to my misery.

She’s panting now. “N-Nothing.”

She’s lying, and we both know it. I was friends with Charlie for far too long to not be able to read her like the back of my hand. Even now.

I brush my fingers around her swollen clit again. Charlie cries out in pleasure. “Please,” she gasps. “Please.”

“Please what?” It’s hard to stop myself from digging into her, from exploring her the way I did at the club, but I’ve got to hear her talk.

Her brown eyes find mine. For once, there’s no hatred in them. Just pure need.

“Please…” She runs a tongue across her lower lip. “Please, fuck me, Ken. I need to feel you.”

Why does hearing her say that feel better than winning the championship last season?

She’s still playing with my dick, her slender fingers brushing across the hard shaft, going back and forth, relieving the pressure and contributing to it all at once. What wouldn’t I give to lift her up against the wall and drive into her till the whole gym heard us?

“You…you want me, then?” It’s my lame attempt to keep the conversation going, to stop myself from taking her.

Charlie swallows. And nods.

I recall her toying with her hair, the same way she used to do with Kali. Suddenly, I get an astounding amount of resolve in my system. Charlie has burned me once. I’m not going to let her do it again.

“Is there anyone else?” Exclusivity hasn’t mattered much to me with other women, but this is fucking Charlie Chapman. Can’t have her moaning my name and bedding someone else a few hours later. It’s going to kill me, and I know it.

“No.” The word, said in a quick gasp, comes quickly. I can tell she means it.

“In that case, I am going to fuck you,” I mutter, directly in her ear. Her fingers are still on my dick, and another shiver runs through her. I prolong the moment, winding up her anticipation. She’s probably waiting for where I’m going to touch her next. “The moment you tell me what game you’re playing with me.”

I sense rather than feel Charlie deflate. When I pull back my hands from her leggings and straighten, she has a murderous look on her face.

Good . Let her be the one left pining for once.

With the most satisfaction I’ve ever derived from a non-sexual activity, I stride out of the stall.