FIT: #1 in the Fit Trilogy (4 page)

“What’s a hidden disability?” she asked.

“They can vary. ADD, partial hearing loss, epilepsy. Just let me know if any of those apply and we can adjust your workouts accordingly.”

“Oh, okay. None of those apply to me. I’m putting birth control down under medication though,” she added, to lighten the mood.

The corner of Grant’s mouth tipped up under his gold-dusted mustache. “Good to know.”

When she finished her paperwork, including coughing up her credit card info, which bound her to Grant’s expertise twice a week for the next thirty days and most certainly drained her vacation fund, they left the office and walked over to the scale.

“Okay. Let’s do this.” She didn’t wait for Grant’s prompt. She stepped right on the metal plate and stared straight ahead at the digital readout.

The number that blinked into existence was like a punch to her chubby chin. She told herself twenty times it was just a number, but it was a really high number. Still, she could do this. That number would come down.

She stepped off the scale, letting out a deep exhale, and faced Grant.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Honestly? Disappointed in myself. I’ve gained ten pounds in the last year.”

“Well, let’s get started pulling those ten pounds off.”

Violet took another deep breath and braced herself for the part she’d been dreading. The actual workout. That awful class at Pinks was fresh in her mind. She was still a little miffed at Faye for dragging her along. She could taste that acrid bile that accompanied her dry mouth, as she struggled with the burning in her lungs. Grant might appreciate her looks and her wit, but he was about to see just how weak she really was.

“Come on Max!”

“Wait. What are we doing?” Violet asked, confused, as the dog trotted back to them. What did the dog have to do with her workout? Grant picked up Max’s leash then nodded toward the door.

“We’re starting your first workout. Let’s go.”

Great.
Now he would see she could barely handle a steady jog with his Rottweiler. She might as well get on with it. She followed Grant back outside. He locked the front door and they started walking down the street toward Melrose Ave. The gym itself was on Melrose Place, between some high-end boutique that carried clothes Violet would never be small enough to wear and a coffee shop that was just opening its doors. Her stomach rumbled, thinking about a piping hot latte. She had a feeling she could sweet talk Grant into letting her grab one and then she remembered the number on the scale. She kept walking. Soon, Grant would pump things up and they’d be running. Well, he’d be running or slow jogging beside her while she wheezed and sputtered and begged him to slow down.

“Tell me about your job,” Grant said. The sun was up, cresting over the bungalow style homes that ran up the cross street to the next section of retail shops. Violet thought about why she moved to L.A. in the first place. She’d pictured things differently, her life and her work.

“I’m an associate producer for Park Place Entertainment. We shoot stuff for The Food Channel. Have you seen any cooking competition shows? Cupcake Champions? Third Course?”

“I haven’t
watched
them, but I know what shows you’re talking about.”

“That’s what our production company specializes in. We’re shooting an edgier show for this new men’s network in a few weeks. We just finished a barbecue competition show. I know I gained eight of those ten pounds on that show alone.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Yeah. It’s a lot of work, but I love my crew. We have a great time.” Violet went on telling Grant more about the wacky adventures she’d had behind the scenes on various cooking competition shows. They kept walking, stopping momentarily to let Max sniff some bushes or an errant piece of gum. Before she realized, they were back in front of Melrose Fitness.

Grant turned to her, as he looked at his watch. He pressed a little button and it beeped. She hadn’t noticed the first time he’d toyed with it.

“You, Miss Ryan, just walked three miles.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“No, actually it wasn’t.” She didn’t feel like she’d worked out at all, but she had really been on her feet for fifty minutes and not once did she ask Grant if they could slow down. A small victory, but she’d take it.

Back inside the gym, another man was setting out a yoga mat. Grant introduced him as Armando Vasquez, co-owner of the gym. Max, free off his leash, wandered over to a doggy bed beside the weight rack. Three miles was plenty for him. They left the dog and the yogi and went back to the office.

“So you want to shoot for Thursday?” Grant asked.

“Yeah. Monday, Thursday should work.”

“Good. In the meantime, you have homework. I want you to write down everything you eat and drink this week. Everything. You don’t have to count calories, but try to get everything down and be exact. If you have a pint of ice cream, say you had a pint. If you eat one slice of pizza, write it down. If you eat three large pizzas, write it down.”

“Got it. Write it down.”

“Good. We’re almost done here. Close the door.”

Violet flinched. “Excuse me?”

Grant stood, pushing back his chair. His arms moved smoothly as he crossed them over his broad chest. He repeated himself. “Close the door. And lock it.” Violet hesitated a moment longer. She’d agreed to this. She hadn’t forgotten, but as their hour together wore on she almost thought Grant had changed his mind. He’d been so normal during their walk. He dialed back the flirting and just talked to her, like a normal person who had no plans on getting into her undies. From this new look on his face, though, he hadn’t changed his mind about anything. Violet swallowed. Neither had she.

She stood and slowly walked over to the door, closing it then turning the big locking mechanism above the knob. She turned back to face Grant.

“Good. Now come here and sit down. Right here.” He pointed to a spot he’d cleared on his desk. Right between his legs. Her legs carried her back to him. She hopped up onto the smooth metal surface and sat down where he instructed her to. Her feet dangled a few inches off the floor.

“Spread your thighs.” She pulled her knees apart, making room for him to step a bit closer. “Wider.” Her hips obeyed his order, opening up to accommodate his large body. He came closer, towered over her. His gaze was so focused she doubted she actually wanted to know the dark thoughts that were on his mind. Her imagination had gone back to that dirty, messy place. She’d barely broken a sweat, but her skin was damp from their long stroll. Usually she would have asked for a chance to hop in the shower or even a second to run to the restroom to splash some water on her face before he touched her, but the way he looked at her now, like she was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen, made her think the shower could wait.

In the next moment, he leaned forward and his lips were on hers, soft and somehow firm too, and completely seductive. Violet melted into Grant, kissing him back, meeting his tongue with her own when it gently teased her bottom lip. She could feel his arm above her head, bracing his body against the wall, but she wanted more of him. She wanted to feel his whole body against hers.

Violet reached out and ran her hand over the bulge in Grant’s shorts. She barely got a sense of its girth before he gripped her wrist and took her hand away.

“Uh-uh, Miss Ryan. You have to earn that,” Grant breathed against her lips. He kissed her again, releasing her wrist. Her pussy was wet now, throbbing, aching against the cotton between her legs. She needed some friction, something more. She was on fire. Kissing Grant wouldn’t be enough. His knuckles grazed her left breast a time or two through her thin jogging jacket, driving her even crazier. He was good, a thorough tease. Violet enjoyed this slow burn, the build, but she was about two seconds from turning the tables and mounting Grant on the plaid doggy bed in the corner.

His hand slipped between her legs. Violet’s lips slipped from Grant’s as she moaned. He took the opportunity to kiss his way across her cheek, nipping her chin before he moved lower to her neck. Violet’s moan was loud and desperate and just in time for her to remember Grant’s fellow trainer and probably a whole class of yoga students were right outside the door.

“Can they hear us?” she said, panting for the air she needed to fill her lungs.

“We’re fine. Don’t worry about Mando,” Grant replied. “Just be here with me.”

Easy
, Violet thought. Too easy with his fingers pressed against her clit like that.

She moved with him, grinding shamelessly as his hand moved harder against her body, pressing along her aching pussy through the layers of her clothing. It had been ages since she’d had herself a good dry hump, but the thighs and the clothed cocks of her old boyfriends had nothing on the bold force of Grant Gibson’s single hand.

Violet came, whimpering, gasping, mouth wide open as Grant’s teeth caught the tender skin where her neck met her shoulder. He let her down with softer strokes, easing up bit by bit with his fingers as his lips made their way back to hers. He held the back of her head with both his hands, digging into her ponytailed strands, holding her steady as he kissed her senseless once more. She’d reached her peak, but she was far from satisfied. She wanted more. Much more.

Grant pulled away with a final caress to her lips with the pad of his thumb. She could barely see straight and there was a ringing in her ears. She wasn’t safe to drive. He leaned against the wall just across from her, his arms taking up residence again across his chest.

“That was for completing step one. You showed up. No leather panties required.”

“I see. I’ll be sure to show up next time.” Violet slid to her feet and readjusted her yoga pants and her underwear. She definitely needed a shower now. She checked her pockets. She had her keys and her phone. Her hour with Grant Gibson was up. Without another word, she nodded to Grant, the corner of her bottom lip clenched between her teeth, and then she practically ran to her car.

Day 5

Violet slowly walked beside Faye, as they made their way down the beer aisle. Faye was talking about her boyfriend Patrick. He’d done something funny that morning before he left for work. Faye was reliving the moment. Violet was thinking about Grant. Or more appropriately, she was thinking about the moment her life had become so pornographic.

Violet was far from a prude. There had been one night stands, backseats, movie theaters; she even let one boyfriend find his way up her skirt in a crowded bar. She’d had good, and bad, and adventurous sex, but she’d never been with anyone like Grant.

Technically, they hadn’t even had sex. He’d kissed her though. She been kissed well before, but Grant? His lips were dangerous, a trap, a tricky temptation that could cause a woman like Violet to follow him willingly down a very precarious path. A guy like Grant could make her foolish. She knew it but, for now, she wanted to enjoy it.

He’d kissed her stupid, fingered her over her clothes until she was a weak-kneed, breathless dolt, and then he claimed that was her reward for showing up. What would he do when she ran her first mile or completed her first real sit-up? Top off, down the pants, anal? Would he marry her and give her a muscular baby when she reached her goal weight?

Violet forgot herself and snorted, covering the hideous noise with her clenched fist as the thought crossed her mind.

“What’s so funny?” Faye asked.

“Nothing. Was he late for work?” She’d sort of been listening.

Faye chuckled. “No. He called in to his first meeting and then he left. I’m all for morning sex, but he needs to calm down with the acrobatics. He almost broke both our necks.”

“Yes, please tell him to be careful.”

They rounded the corner into the frozen food section. Violet hung by the cart while Faye walked back and forth in front of the ice cream.

Violet had been really good the last two days. She wrote down everything she ate. It was a lot, but she made sure to record every morsel. In the mornings, she woke up at six and walked around her neighborhood. She didn’t clock the distance, but she logged the time. Sixty minutes round trip. Additional movement wasn’t a part of her assignment, but if she was going to commit to this weight loss, she might as well keep up with the exercise portion in between her meetings with Grant. She wasn’t touching another burpee as long as she lived. Walking, though, she could do.

Faye opened the freezer door and analyzed the arrangement of Ben and Jerry’s. “You know what I want?” she said, over the hum from the industrial motors. She turned to Violet. “YogurtTown.”

Violet groaned. “Why’d you have to say that? You know I love YogurtTown.” The franchise that featured an array of self-serve flavors and double the choices in toppings was one of Violet’s many weaknesses. It was fattening and overpriced, and Violet went there every chance she got.

“Come on. Let’s finish up here and then we’ll go to YogurtTown. My treat.”

Violet winced dramatically. “I don’t know.”

“Come on. We can head back to Pinks tomorrow. You’ll sweat it off in five minutes.” Faye was kidding, but a slice of anger heated Violet’s face. That experience at Pinks had been one of the lowest moments in her adult life and Faye had been there to witness it. Violet couldn’t find the idea of reliving that humiliation for the sake of some frozen yogurt funny. She hadn’t mentioned Grant to Faye yet. She wasn’t in the mood to talk too much to anyone about her weight loss attempts, but it was time to let Faye know.

“I’m actually working with a new private trainer now. We have our second session tomorrow.”

Faye’s genuine surprise didn’t help the situation. “Oh! How’d this come about?”

“Margaret, your friend over at Pinks, recommended him to me. That’s what she wanted to talk to me about.”

“That’s cool. Do you like him?”

I like the way he kisses
. “Yeah. He’s great.”

“Well, if you’re already back in the workout game, some YogurtTown won’t kill you. Come on. Let’s do it.”