Page 34 of True Sight (Nat. 20, #4)

CONRAD

O nce we’re both cleaned up and dressed, we spend the next few hours actually getting some work done.

We finish our meeting and finalize how he wants his app to look and also come up with a new idea that will allow for his students to track their class stats right within their profiles.

When I first got his email back at the start of September, I didn’t have a lot of high expectations of him and the business he was hoping to run.

But week after week of having our meetings and seeing how his head works and how much passion he has for his students and classes, I know how much this all means to him.

He helps people in his own way and I admire how seriously he takes that.

“How much longer do you have?” He turns around to look at me from where he is sitting on the couch.

He’s just sat down for the hundredth time after running through another bout of choreography for an upcoming class.

Every time he stands up, Annie stands with him at full attention, ready to play or run or go for a walk.

Instead, she’s highly disappointed when he swings his arms around or gyrates his hips in a circle.

Meanwhile, I sit at my desk and try not to be distracted by the show he’s putting on.

Every time he gets up I look over at him and am entranced by whatever move he’s doing or how his muscles flex with his movements or by the sounds he makes.

He’s kind enough to wear his headphones so his music doesn’t add to the distraction but that only helps so much.

“I’m just about done,” I drone, refusing to take my eyes from my screen. If I look over at him it will only slow me down. The work I’m doing for Henry keeps me plenty busy but I still have recurring clients who I do work for that I need to catch up on.

“Alrighty.” He sighs and looks around as if he is bored. “I guess I’ll take Annie for a run then.”

I turn my chair slowly to face him and glare. “You’re going to take her for a run?”

He’s already at the front door stepping into his tennis shoes. “Yeah? Is that okay? Poor girl looks bored out of her mind and I offered to you before that I would.”

“Sweets, you’ve been practically working out the last two hours. Now you’re going to go for a run?” There are small beads of sweat on his face from all the dancing he’s been doing and I can’t believe he wants to do more extraneous labor.

“Running, and all exercise, is free therapy. It clears the mind and helps you reconnect with yourself.” He waves an arm across the space in front of him and speaks in a haughty tone as he takes a few steps closer to where I’m still sitting.

“Plus, it keeps me out of your hair while you finish your workday. If I stay here, I’ll just want to come and sit in your lap and that definitely wouldn’t help you get your work done any sooner.” He leans down and kisses me. “We’ll be back. Come on, Annie girl.”

When called, she runs to the front door and sits patiently as he puts her harness on.

Not once have I ever taken her for a run.

The best she gets from me is a really long walk and even those don’t seem to be enough for her.

I can’t wait to see how she is when they come back.

He raises his hand to wave which I reciprocate before he closes the door behind him.

Alone again, I turn back to my computer and fall into my work.

What feels like a short while later, the front door opens again and the two of them come in panting.

“That was quick. How was the run?” I ask, standing from my desk and moving towards them.

“Quick? Love, we’ve been gone for almost forty minutes,” Henry chortles before wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

Annie is waiting at his feet to be unleashed so I bend down and take off her harness.

Once free, she trots towards her water bowl and proceeds to act as if she hasn’t seen water in a hundred years.

“Oh shit, I must have really been focused.” I glance over my shoulder at my now darkened computer screen.

“Well, are you done now?” he asks and I look back at him. His head is cocked to one side and he has a hand on his hip still trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah, I’m done,” I confirm and give him a sharp nod.

He clicks his tongue in disappointment. “I guess I’ll have to sit on your lap and distract you some other time then.”

“I guess you will.” I smirk at him. He takes a few steps towards me and loops his arms around my neck, pulling me into a hug.

“Argh, you’re all sweaty,” I try to object but he won’t let me go.

“Oh, come now, a little bit of sweat won’t kill you,” he scoffs .

“You should go take a shower. I’m not letting you sit on anything until you do.”

“So what you’re saying is that sweaty people can’t sit on anything or be comfortable in your home until they shower?” His voice perks up as he speaks.

“Sure, I guess if that’s how you want to take it?—”

Before I can finish my sentence he pulls away from me, tears off his shirt, and then grabs me again, rubbing his sweaty body all over mine. He nuzzles his face into my neck, wiping his forehead along it and as much as I writhe and try to escape I can’t.

“Ahh, no, gross. Stop it! You’re disgusting!” I shout trying to push him off me but he only laughs. His pheromones ignite my senses and while I want to hate what’s happening, it’s actually turning me on.

“Yes I am, but now you’re sweaty, too, which means you also have to take a shower now.” He has a wicked grin on his face as he says it with a pump of his brows.

“I guess that is what that means,” I start and he grabs my hand after picking his shirt up off the floor.

I can feel myself getting harder just at the thought of getting in the shower with him.

I started this day fully intending on getting him naked but I didn’t think I’d get him naked twice.

I’ve never felt this excited with a woman before and never once wanted them as badly as I want him.

This is something I’ve been thinking about since I left his place on Sunday—the sheer force of need and want I feel for him.

I always wonder what my friends mean when they say shit about ‘needing’ their partners or feeling ‘desperate’ to have them again.

But now I do.

We walk into my bathroom which is sizable for my apartment.

This place is definitely built with a couple in mind as the bathroom totes a double vanity, a walk-in shower that can hold several fully grown adults, and a walk-in closet clearly divided up into two halves.

I reach into the shower, turn the knob to start the water, and stick my hand under the water waiting for it to warm up.

When I turn around again, he’s leaning against the counter, still shirtless from before, watching me.

“What’s that look for?”

“What? Am I not allowed to admire you?”

I bite my lips around my teeth. “You are not admiring me. People don’t admire me.”

“And who the hell said that?” His eyebrows squeeze together and his nose pinches up.

“No one needed to say it, it’s merely an observation of my life. People don’t admire me, they look right over me. Or they talk to me once and decide I’m too surly for their liking and move on. It’s normally my friends who get the admiration, Malcolm and Kolbi especially.”

“Well I will happily admire you whenever you like.” He closes the space between us and I bring my hands to his stomach, suddenly feeling shy.

“I’d admire you like this,” he says just above a whisper, pressing his forehead to mine before reaching for the hem of my shirt and pulling it over my head, letting it fall to the floor. Goosebumps spring up across my skin where his fingers graze.

“Or like this.” He brings his lips to the top of my left shoulder and kisses it.

Then, he pushes the waistline of his joggers down and lets them fall to the floor.

My breath catches in my throat like it does everytime I see him like this.

I meet his hands when they come to the waistband of my shorts and help him push them off of me.

We stand fully naked in front of one another, our semi-hard cocks fighting for the same space.

“I’ll admire you in any way you’d like, love.

Everyday, if you’ll let me.” His voice is low and comes out more as a growl.

My body gravitates closer to his, like the moon to the Earth, unable to resist his gravitational pull.

He brushes his lips to mine and it takes every ounce of willpower I have to speak.

“We should probably get in the shower, you know,” I whisper against his lips.

“Yeah, we probably should. Come on, we’ll go together.

” He holds me against him and brings his lips to my neck, kissing it softly while guiding us into the steaming shower.

As the water hits us, he moves so that my back is against the wall and he’s pressing me into it.

He kisses me deeply, his tongue mixing with mine as the water fully encases us.

My insides burn as my skin is warmed by the hot water.

I always pride myself on being a logical person, but nothing is logical about the way he makes me feel—safe and seen and cared for—and he is the first person to make me feel this way outside of my immediate friend group.

My friends. What will they think about this? Their faces flash in front of my eyes for the briefest of seconds and I pull away to collect myself.

“Conrad, are you okay?” He stops to look at me, his voice full of concern.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I reply while nodding my head.

“Are you sure? We can stop if it’s too much.” He takes a step away from me and waits.