FIT: #1 in the Fit Trilogy (5 page)

The NO was on the tip of Violet’s lips. Faye kept on with her rationalizations. “You don’t have to eat
all
the yogurt. Just get a little.”

“Clearly we’ve just met.” Violet patted her stomach. “I am all yogurt.”

✶

Thursday morning, Grant beat Violet to the gym. He woke up a bit earlier, took Max for his real walk then jogged the half mile between his condo and Melrose Fitness. He was eager to see her. He couldn’t or wouldn’t put it into words, but he knew that feeling; the charge in his chest that sometimes migrated to his stomach when he was starting to feel something for a woman. Though he’d managed to completely fuck up his initial proposal, he’d been right on the money about Violet and her capacity to submit.

He started slowly, watching her closely for signs of fear or reluctance, but when he’d given her the simple order to close the door and the command clicked in her mind, he saw the spark in her eyes. She was nervous, a little unsure about what to expect, but she was down for the moment. She was present and ready. It took all his control not to take things further, especially after she responded to his kiss. Violet was hot, a physical force. Grant knew when they finally had the sex he’d been dreaming about, she would rock his world. It would be a test of his patience to wait for that moment, but he would wait until he absolutely knew she was ready. He would wait as long as she wanted.

The thought startled him. Not because he was some sort of sick fuck who couldn’t control himself. It caught him off guard because Grant realized how long it had been since he had to step this gingerly around a woman who held his interest. Ariana was wild, out of control with her desires. He loved that part of her. The women before her were just as eager. They were trained submissives, ready to respond to him with practiced moves, or women who pursued him because they knew what he had to offer. Violet knew what she wanted. She wouldn’t let Grant take her anyplace she didn’t want to go, but he was honored to be the first to receive her submission. He wanted to work to keep her trust.

The prospect of it had changed him. Grant often didn’t realize how much time he spent with people he couldn’t stand. His clients paid him and they paid him a lot. He cared about the collective health of his clients, but they were just that. Clients. In the one session he’d spent with Violet he also realized just how routine things had become around the gym. He knew. He felt the depth of boredom but, really, he’d only scratched the surface. Walking with Violet, listening to her talk about the TV shows she worked on, he felt his outlook shifting when he was around her. Not that he’d been an asshole around the gym or anything, but Violet had definitely lifted his mood. Even Armando said something about the way he was acting when he walked by the office and overheard Grant singing to himself. It had been a while since he’d burst out in song.

Yeah, Violet was different and Grant wanted more of her in his life.

Her silver Jetta pulled up just before six o’clock. Violet looked tired when she climbed out of the car, but the moment she saw him, she smiled. That smile seemed to wipe every hint of exhaustion from her face. They exchanged their hellos. Grant wanted to kiss her, but instead he led her inside the gym. She followed him to the gym floor and sat down beside him on the polished wood. He’d take her back to the office. Later. After.

“Did you do your homework?”

“I sure did.” Violet unzipped her bag and pulled out a small blue Moleskin and a pen.

“You got a notebook. Good,” Grant said, as he took it from her hand. He flipped it open and looked over the food Violet had consumed in three days. He didn’t see anything alarming. She liked her assorted coffee beverages and she seemed to skip breakfast and sometimes lunch, making up for it with snacking and heavy dinners. She liked her pre-packed foods and she liked to eat out. Right on par with most working adults.

“I found an app, but I thought it would easier this way,” Violet said. “Things are easier to remember when I actually put pen to paper.”

“That’s excellent. I want you to do this for two full weeks. You’ll see two things. One, you’ll notice that you have eating patterns. We all do. I eat the same thing for breakfast almost every day. I save my alcohol intake for Sunday nights. You’ll notice when you eat certain things and then you can start working out why, and then you can think about how to change those patterns.” Grant flipped back through the pages to see if anything else caught his eye, but nothing stood out.

“That doesn’t sound so hard.”

“It is and it isn’t. What’s hard is trying to change everything you’ve been doing most of your life overnight. Habits are hard to break, but you’re trying and that matters.” He handed the notebook back to Violet. “Well done, Miss Ryan. You ready?”

“Wait.” Violet took the notepad and pressed it against her face.

“What’s up?”

“Uh…”

Grant knew that tone. She was hiding something. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“I didn’t write everything down.”

He took the notebook back, flipped it open then scooped up her pen. They would amend this now. “What’s missing?”

“Yesterday afternoon, I got YogurtTown with my friend, Faye. And then last night we got drinks. This new bar on Hillhurst opened and we wanted to check it out.”

Grant flipped to the day she’d titled Wednesday in her cute feminine handwriting and prepared to add his own practiced script. “How many drinks did you have?”

“Three. No, four?”

“Mixed drinks? Beers? Shots?”

“I had a mojito, this fancy pear thing, and two cranberry vodkas. And a shot of Patron.” He scribbled them down and steeled himself to keep all hints of judgment off his face. This woman could drink. This explained why she looked so tired, but he was surprised she was even upright.

“I hope you didn’t drive.”

“No. We had a DD.”

“Anything else?”

“No, that’s it.”

“So five drinks. What did you get from YogurtTown? They measure in ounces right? How many ounces do you think you had?”

She sighed like she was about to confess to an extramarital affair. “Fourteen, maybe? And I had gummy bears on top.”

“Okay. That’s it?”

“Yep. That’s it.”

Grant closed the notebook and handed it back to Violet. Once she slipped it back into her bag, he took her hand and helped her off the floor.

“Am I in trouble?” she asked, as she stowed her stuff in a cubby by the entrance.

“Yup. But not the way you’re thinking. Let’s go.” Grant almost laughed at the look on Violet’s face. She had no idea what he had in store for her. He called for Max and the three of them headed out for another walk. They’d go further this time, another .2 miles, and they’d do it in the fifty minutes they had, but he wasn’t going to tell Violet that until after they returned to the gym. As they walked down the street, by the storefronts that wouldn’t open for another few hours, Grant focused on subtly varying their pace, using Max as an excuse to include a bit of jogging across streets and between a few of the shorter blocks.

Violet babbled. She was worried about what was coming. He loved this part of the game. The harmless fear and the anticipation. She didn’t know it, but she was getting herself worked up, readying herself for him. All he had to do was walk.

By the time they’d circled back, Grant thought Violet was going to talk herself into a stroke. She’d told him what he was pretty sure amounted to her whole life story. She was adopted as an infant and became the youngest of three to a family from Connecticut. Her brother was a doctor. Her sister was back in school getting her law degree. She’d had a baby at a young age, but her new husband and her had worked things out so she could chase her dream of upholding the law. Her mom’s name was Wendy. Her dad’s name was Arnold. Growing up, she had a dog named Taffy. She’d picked out the name because she loved Laffy Taffy so much. Faye was her best friend and her co-worker. They did everything together, but Violet didn’t think they should come to Melrose Fitness together. Grant agreed.

Somewhere in the middle of all that, Violet said she regretted the trip to YogurtTown. She said it wasn’t worth it.

Grant checked his watch. They’d tacked on an extra minute, but Violet had extended her distance.

“Three point two miles. How do you feel about that?”

She seemed to snap out of her ramble mode. She smiled. “Good. I know you snuck in that jogging on purpose, but it wasn’t so bad. We should go further next time.”

“We can do that. We can add weights too.”

“Whoa. Whoa. Slow down. No one said anything about weights.”

“Oh there will be weights, but we’ll go slowly. We have one more piece of business to attend to. Go.” The words yanked the smile right off Violet’s face. Her expressive shifts were so sudden and comical, she’d teach him more about his own poker face than years at the club. He needed to maintain the illusion of control. Still the look on her adorable face had him cracking up inside.

He ushered her past Armando doing his morning routine, and into the office, locking the door behind them. Violet stood against the wall, looking at him boldly, waiting for his next move. He pulled out his chair and turned it around so she’d have to straddle it with the back against her chest.

“Sit.”

She sat.

Grant took a mental deep breath. What he planned to do next would tell him a lot about Violet, her likes and dislikes. What he did next could also shut this party they were having together right the fuck down.

With his back to Violet, Grant took off his hoodie and threw the sweatshirt on Armando’s chair. It didn’t take much for him to get hard. He’d been thinking about fucking Violet for nearly a week. He’d been thinking about kissing her again almost non-stop for the last three days, and when she showed up that morning, he thought about squeezing her ripe tits again as they strained against the confines of her running jacket.

He stroked himself twice over the fabric of his shorts. When he turned back to Violet he was halfway to fully erect. She glanced at his hand, then to his face before looking back down to his hand. Or, more aptly, his cock. Grant saw that look in her eyes, the hunger, the lust. She licked her lips. The rest of his blood rushed right to his crotch.

He tapped the black fabric on the back of the chair. “Put your hands right there and leave them there.”

“I’ve heard it’s better if I use my hands,” she said, even though she slid her fingers into position.

“We’ll manage without them. I promise.” Closing the space between them, Grant pulled his cock from his shorts. With his other hand, he took hold of Violet’s chin in a gentle grip. He scanned her eyes for a sign of silent hesitation, but when her tongue darted out again and she released a short breath, almost a sigh, he knew she was on board.

He ran his thumb along her bottom lip, where her tongue had just been. Her mouth parted again, just a bit, and she barely made contact with his skin as her tongue flicked out once more. Grant’s cock throbbed in his hand.

“If you want to stop just say so, okay?” They hadn’t gone over safe words or tap out signals yet. He wanted to keep things simple for her. Violet was embracing her submission, but she understood her control. She wouldn’t shy away from letting him know exactly how she felt.

“I don’t want to stop.”

“Good. Open your mouth.” Violet’s lips popped open like she’d been waiting for his cock all morning long. Her tongue presented itself, eager and ready.

Grant slipped inside and fought to keep his eyes open as the wet heat of Violet’s mouth enveloped him. He moved his hips forward, just slightly, teasing her, teasing himself. As he retreated, Violet’s lips followed, the muscles of her tongue swirling around the crown of his dick. Fuck, was he in trouble. He wanted to take this slowly just as badly as he wanted to grip the back of her head and fuck her mouth until tears of surrender streaked her checks. Violet wanted to use her hands.

Grant looked down as the tips of her fingers grazed his balls. She looked up at him with those big brown eyes as she lightly teased the seam of his sack with her nails. He wanted her to keep going, but commands were commands, and his were meant to be followed.

He swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth and fixed her with a stern glare. “I told you not to move your hands. Put your hands behind your back and keep them there. Unless you want me to tie them back there with a resistance band.” He remembered what she said about bondage, so it was just an idle threat. He’d never tie her up without having a long discussion with her first, but it was threat enough for her to comply. Grant nearly choked on a groan as his cock slipped from her mouth.

“Fine,” she said, with an annoyed sigh, but she knotted her fingers at the base of her back. The simple motion thrust her breasts out over the top of the chair. Someday, not today, but sometime soon, he was going to come all over those tits and enjoy every moment of it.

He slipped his dick back into her welcoming mouth and wound his fingers into her hair, just below her ponytail. He moved his hips in sync with the bobbing of Violet’s head. She met his every thrust with the perfect amount of suction and a gentle swirling of her tongue. She moaned around him, fidgeting in the chair until the back of it and her breasts were pressed against his thighs. Together they found a perfect pace, not too slow to keep them at it for hours, but not too fast that either of them were overwhelmed. But Violet was enthusiastic, moving her head this way and that, pulling back completely when she could and running her tongue up the length of his shaft. When the position made it possible, she would look up at him, not seeking approval but showing him just exactly what he had gotten himself into. It was all too much. The softness of her lips. The light brush of her breath against his abs. He wouldn’t last much longer.

“You want me to come in your mouth?”

Violet made a high-pitched sound of approval and nodded her head just the slightest bit. She sucked him harder, the movement of her head becoming more urgent. He knew that desperation. She wasn’t in a hurry to finish, but she wanted to make him come. She wanted the satisfaction of making him finish. That telltale spasm rippled up from his balls, sending that sensation, like lightning, all over his body, until it singed his nervous system. The sound Grant made when he came was a sound that belonged to a man who hadn’t come in years. His eyes squeezed shut for just a moment before opening again so he could watch her lick his cock clean.