Consumed (2 page)

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Authors: Skyla Madi

BOOK: Consumed
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Screw him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

The next morning, I wake up extra early so I can get a longer session in at the gym before work. My gym is only a few blocks down, but I drive anyway. Why would I want to burn more calories than I need to? It was hard waking up early this morning. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. I ended up switching my phone off after eleven p.m. and a million missed calls. I smile. Blade is probably freaking out right now and it serves him right.

Even after I switched off my phone sleep was scarce. I stayed up all night thinking, trying to pin point the exact moment Blade turned into a douche. I couldn’t and I wonder if he’s been like that since high school and I’ve just been too blind to notice?

I pull up in front of the gym, lean across and pull my backpack off the passenger seat. Inside it has a towel, a pair of heels, a nice black business dress, some make-up and a hair brush. After my workout I need to shower and get dressed for work. Since the gym has showers, I figured I’d knock two birds with one stone this morning. I adjust my ponytail, pull my tights up a little higher and cover my belly button with my pink tank top. Not that it helps any. It’s so tight it keeps sliding back up and exposing my flat midriff.

I enter the gym and a sterile smell fills my nostrils. Yesterday, the gym was hosting a boot camp and it smelt strongly of sweat and vomit. Unpleasant is a nice way of putting it.

I scan the gym trying to decide where I want to start today. Usually, I start with the treadmill or the elliptical, but this morning I’m feeling something a little more… aggressive. I want something I can take my anger out on. I have a lot of hate that I want to belt out of my system before work. My gaze falls onto the boxing ring where two staunch men spar. It’s a start, I guess, but maybe I’ll go with something a little more personal. I look over to the boxing bags and I see…
him
.

Whoa.

A shiver instantly shoots down my spine, igniting something dark and sinister deep down in my core. I helplessly drink in the strangers features, gaping at him like an idiot. Strands from his short, black hair stick to his forehead with sweat and as soon as I notice, he runs his taped fingers through it, sending tiny droplets of sweat in every direction. My mouth goes dry and I want to run my lips over his moist throat. I’m suddenly aware of a strange, searing heat across the back of my neck and an electrical current I’ve never felt before tingles between my thighs as I watch his sweaty chest rise and fall in a deep pant. He glances up at the ceiling and closes his eyes, forcing his Adams apple to protrude outwards, slightly. His broad shoulders and one side of his chest are covered in intricate tattoos. Across his hip is another tattoo—it’s a sentence, but I’m too far away to read it. My gaze falls onto his black drawstring pants that hang off his narrow hips, exposing his delicious ‘V’ shape. I’ve never seen a man so… so… like him. It’s like he came straight out of a movie or some steamy, erotic women’s magazine—six pack and all.

He flexes his fingers and bounces lightly on his toes before he balls his hands into fists. His muscles tighten and twitch, work and relax, as he slams his hard fists into the large, blue bag. My entire body tightens and vibrates with pleasure every time his large fists connect. And the way his brows knit together as he swings his large, muscular arms has me squirming where I stand. I look at his face, his eyes are dark and his face serious, like the bag in front of him is someone he hates. Involuntarily, my eyes fall back to his ‘V’ shape and I ponder what exactly is under the thin fabric. The thought alone is enough for desire to start pooling between my thighs. A few seconds pass and I realize the string on his pants isn’t swinging back and forth anymore—he isn’t moving. Slowly, I drag my eyes up over his slim hips and a narrow waist, a chest doused in a thin layer of clean sweat, well-formed traps and lastly, a pair of dark, brown eyes that are...
looking directly at me.

Shit!

My stomach claws its way up my throat with tremendous speed and I think I’m going to be sick. I feel like I’m standing on water, instead of solid ground and my eyes widen as my pulse instantly skyrockets. I want to run, but I remain frozen—rooted in place
.
I open my mouth to apologize, but I’m at least thirty feet away from him. I clamp my mouth shut. I’m embarrassed, yet at the same time, I’m aroused—completely undone just because he’s looking at me. His tantalizing, full lips break out into a cocky smile, like he heard everything I thought about him. Under my cheeks, my blood burns. Not with want, but with embarrassment and I hate it. I look down to my white sneakers. Maybe I’ll start with the treadmills today. I force myself one foot in front of the other over to the treadmills that sit side by side. I crank up the speed of the treadmill and I run my ass off. Very quickly my body begins to moan and complain, probably because I forgot to warm up. Beeps sound off on the treadmill next to me.

“Hey, Olly.”

It’s my Dad. I shouldn’t be too surprised to run into him here. It is his gym, after all. I suppress a groan. Dad and I have had a bit of a bumpy road since I moved out. The only time he finds the time to talk to me is when he’s trying to guilt trip me into moving back in. My older brother Chase gets to run around the world unbothered by our parents because he’s serving our country. God forbid I do something for myself.

I slow my machine down to a brisk pace to match his. I hate my nickname. I’ve been referred to as Olly for as long as I can remember. Dad and Blade are the only ones to get away with it.

Seeing Dad this morning is a little bit of a shock. He’s been absent from the gym for a few days and his assistant Derrick has been handling things. “Dad? I haven’t seen you around the gym in a while. I was getting worried.”

“But not worried enough to come home and check on me?”

I roll my eyes as he lifts off his bowlers cap with one hand and scratches his flat, grey hair with the other. He knew very well that if I so much as point one toe in the direction of the house, I’ll never be allowed to leave.

“I’ve been busy visiting your Aunt Kate.” He informs me. “Your cousin Tracey gave birth to a baby boy yesterday. He has my nose.”

“Poor kid,” I joke, unable to contain a snicker.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re hilarious, I get it.”

I smile at him.

“What’s been happening with you?” He asks.

I groan and flick my long ponytail over my other shoulder. “I broke up with Blade last night. He left me at Salsa’s
again
.”

Dad shakes his head. “I told you he was bad news. That kid has no respect. I knew he was an ungrateful prick the moment I laid eyes on him.” He places a soft hand on top of mine. “It’s his loss, honey. You’re a good girl and if my mate’s sons weren’t already married I’d put in a good word for you.”

I laugh. “It’s the thought that counts.” I look beyond Dad and the stranger is back to punching his bag. His hard pecs contract every time he makes contact and I imagine running my tongue slowly over his erect nipples.
What is wrong with me?

“Hey, who’s that guy?” I ask, flicking my head in his direction.

Dad turns around. “The guy with the muscles?” He faces me and I nod. “You really don’t know who he is?”

“Am I supposed to?”

“It’s Seth Marc,” Jesus, even his name makes my insides melt. “He just moved to Portland from Seattle. He’s a great MMA fighter—or at least he
was
.”

I arch an eyebrow.

“The guy was so close to going pro when he turned twenty one. He competed in an amateur MMA comp, but he dropped out seconds before the championship bout. It had something to do with family drama. His comeback has been all over the internet.”

I sigh. “Honestly, I don’t go on the internet much.”

“Yeah, well, don’t distract the guy. He’s got tough competition in the upcoming tournament that he needs to smash if he wants to get into the pros.” Dad turns off his treadmill. “I gotta go, kid. I’ll talk to ya later.”

Before he walks completely away, he turns abruptly. “Come over for dinner next Sunday. Your mama is killing me. She wants to see you more often.”

I nod. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Dad rolls his eyes and leaves me looking at Seth. He’s literally sex in hand wraps and the way he smiled at me is burnt into my brain. Looking at him now with the way his brows are pulled together and his lips pressed into a straight line—I never would have thought he’s capable of smiling. I turn my treadmill off and grab my backpack. I’m done working out for the day—not that it helped any. I’m even more wound up now than I was before I got to the gym and I have a funny feeling that the only thing that’s going to help me is Seth and his tongue. I exhale, pulling my shirt down again. Who am I kidding? I’d never approach a guy like him. There’s too much alpha male going on. He oozes authority and aggression. He’s a lion and I’m a mouse—he’d swallow me whole and not in the good way. I turn toward the female shower room, keeping my head down and straight, until a bouncy brunette enters the gym and demands attention. In her tight tube dress and with heels, no doubt higher than her morals (I’m aware that’s not an accepted form of measurement, but it makes me feel better thinking it), she prances right over to Seth. Of course he is with
her
. Why wouldn’t he be? Her body is slim and her boobs are big and fake. He does strike me as the kind of guy who enjoys that sort of thing and she is pretty in that fake, comes-off-with-a-wipe kind of way.

Her back is to me as she wraps her long, skinny arms around his neck, pulling him into her so his head rests on the nape of her shoulder. From under his brow, his eyes flicker onto me and...
Damn
it
! I’m staring at him again, only this time I can’t look away. His dark, mesmerizing gaze has me trapped. They hug for a while and the whole time he watches me with a knowing, yet curious gleam in his eyes. Seth pulls away from her and when his eyes finally release me, I turn on my heel and practically run to the showers.

The shower room is a little tight and there are only two shower booths. The other four showerheads are out in the open. I’m not shameless enough to shower in front of other people, but the old woman showering freely when I walked in seemed to have no quarrels with me seeing her naked. I, on the other hand, squeezed my eyes shut and I dove for the nearest booth.

The water is nice on my skin. A little too cold for my liking, but I need it to be. If I was going to make it through the day without touching myself to relieve whatever it is that has me wound tighter than a Goddamn jack-in-the-box, then I need something to cool me down. I’ve never been a sexual person, but right now I’m the horniest I’ve ever been in my life and it’s all because a guy at the gym looked at me.

How lame
.

I like sex, but Blade has been my only sexual partner and the sex really isn’t anything to brag about. It goes for a few minutes and then that’s it. The only way I’ve been able to achieve orgasm is if I do it myself.

I dry myself off and slip into some underwear. I pull on some black stockings and then zip myself into my black dress before sliding into a nice pair of cream wedges. After I gather my things, I make my way over to the sinks with the foggy-like mirrors. Even after the cool shower my cheeks are still a little flushed. I rub on my foundation to lessen the pinkish hue and it works to a degree. After applying some subtle eye make-up, I pull my long, damp hair into a makeshift bun. It’s a little messy, but it looks deliberate and I really can’t be bothered fixing it. I pull my cell phone out of my bag and fling my bag over my shoulder. The old woman is still shamelessly showering away when I leave the room and as I stroll down the hallway, I switch my phone on and immediately I’m bombarded with text messages and voicemails from Blade, my mom and my best friend Selena.

 

FROM: SELENA 12:00 A.M
.

Why is Blade calling me non-stop?

Please tell me it’s for real and

You dumped his arrogant ass?

 

FROM: SELENA 12:15 A.M.

Answer me dammit!

I don’t know if I should open

champagne or not. The suspense

is killing me!!!

 

FROM: SELENA 12:30 A.M
.

I opened the champagne anyway.

 

I giggle to myself. Selena is always looking for an excuse to drink alcohol. I think she’s already had three birthdays this year because of it. I hit reply.

 

TO: SELENA 8:15 A.M.

Yep, it’s over between us.

The bastard left—

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