FIT: #1 in the Fit Trilogy (7 page)

Twenty minutes passed and still nothing. Not a word, not a glance, but Violet realized his intention. Watching him like this, every glistening inch of his hard body as it pushed through exercise after exercise was torture. Being near him and not being able to talk to him or touch added another degree of pain to the burn. Violet wasn’t upset about it, just frustrated in more ways than one. Was this part of submission? Or was Grant just being a particular bastard because she’d bailed on their workout? It had to be a combination of both. Grant got off on telling her what to do. She got off on following his orders, so that wasn’t an issue. It was something in the way Grant wasn’t looking at her. Something was bothering him.

Finally Armando called it quits. He disappeared into the back and when he returned he’d changed his clothes and his gym bag was tossed over his shoulder. He fooled with his keys as he walked over to Violet and squatted down beside her.

“He’s been going balls out for over an hour. What did you do?”

Violet frowned and looked between the two men. Grant was still going hard, no sign of letting up, but she thought this was part of their usual night routine. “All because of me?”

“Oh yeah. This is a woman-done-me-wrong kind of workout. He’s sweating out everything so he doesn’t say something stupid to you at the wrong time.”

“Does he ever aim to say something stupid at the right time? ’Cause he’s done that already.”

Armando laughed and patted Violet on the shoulder. “He’s not perfect, but I think you’re the right person to get him in line.”

Grant stood from his squat position and looked at them both in the mirror. “Don’t talk to her,” he yelled over the music. “She’s not here to socialize.”

“Now we’re both in trouble.” Armando winked at her then slipped out the front door.

Grant paced in front of the free weights. Violet wanted to say something, but what? She decided it was better to wait.

Grant walked into the office then came back out and turned off the music. He locked the front door then held his hand out for Violet. “Come on.”

She stood, swallowing her nerves again as he led her into the men’s locker room. She imagined the women’s locker room had a similar set up, a small restroom area with sinks and a few toilets, lockers lining one wall, a cramped shower area with three shower heads, and then the sauna. Grant started the timer just outside the sauna door, then led Violet over to the one bench in the room that afforded her a view of the showers.

“Sit here and don’t move.”

She sat, but not without an argument. “Are you planning on talking to me tonight?”

Instead of answering her, Grant started to strip. Completely. All of a sudden, Violet was willing to wait for a reply as he pulled off his socks and finally his underwear. She’d seen his cock already, but naked—butt naked—Grant was something to behold. He turned on the shower and stepped under the hot spray. He then proceeded to wash himself with some manly type body wash he must have stashed in the shower earlier in the day. Violet watched him as he turned, soaping the thick muscles of his arms and shoulders. His ass was perfect, plump and round, stacked above large thighs that were dusted with a mixture of light and dark hairs. If he ever let her near it again, she was going to squeeze that ass. Squeeze it good.

When he turned around, his dick was hard.

Violets lips parted almost automatically, as his soapy hands moved lower, over his stomach then down around his shaft. Grant stroked himself three, then four times. Violet knew then she was going to faint or beg or burst into flames if he didn’t do something with her soon.

She gripped the edge of the wooden bench and rocked her hips forward, unintentionally causing her wet pussy to clench on itself. She must have moaned or gasped because Grant suddenly looked over at her. He stared her down, looking at every inch of her face and body as he kept stroking his cock.

“Take off your clothes and get in here,” he said with no preamble.

It took a minute for Violet’s brain to process what he’d actually said, but soon she was on her feet, peeling off her clothes. Whatever reservations she had about showing Grant her naked body, rolls and dimples and all, went right down that shower drain. She kicked off her running shoes. Her socks went flying over her shoulder. Grant could keep right on with the teasing smile that flashed across his lips, as she almost tripped pulling off her yoga pants. In record time she was nude and crossing the few feet between them. She was going right for his butt, both hands primed, palms open. She was going to leave marks with her nails.

Their bodies nearly collided. Grant’s hand gripped the sides of her face, as he tilted her head up to kiss her. She almost shoved her tongue into his mouth as her hands found his butt. He kissed her right back, swirling his tongue around hers, making her moan. The feeling of his cock between them, sliding along her stomach, made her squirm. She leaned in closer, giving his ass the proper squeeze it deserved.

Grant tilted his head back, drawing a tight breath between his teeth. “Jesus, woman.” He gazed down at her face and wiped away the wet hairs that were plastered to her forehead. Violet kissed his chest.

“I have no idea what lesson you’re trying to teach me,” she said, over the sound of the spray. “But please don’t stop kissing me.”

“Maybe the lesson is that we could have done this this morning if you’d showed up. I was worried about you.”

“I know, but I’m here now. You’re touching me now. I’m okay with that.”

“Right.” He kissed her once more, lightly this time, before brushing his lips over the tip of her nose then her cheek. “Please extract your hands from my ass and bend over.”

Violet turned and braced her hands against the tile. Grant’s touch slid down the small of her back, down along her ass. She felt him grip his cock, his knuckles brushing against her skin. She felt him slip between her legs, the full length of his shaft rubbing against her pussy. She spread her feet wider, giving him more space, giving him permission to go inside.

He teased her instead, simply moving back and forth. She had to respond to him. Her body wouldn’t have it any other way. She was so wet, the ache of it nearly painful, as the head of Grant’s cock rubbed over her sensitive clit again and again.

He moved back, positioning himself to finally, finally give Violet what she wanted. The sensation was hers to enjoy, just for a moment. He let her feel the crown of his head, the thick smoothness of him, as he entered her. Just barely. And then he pulled away. As in all the way. The heat from his body was replaced by the shower stream

Violet spun around to find Grant rinsing under the other shower head, calm as could be, with his erection jutting out from his hips.

“Go wait for me in the sauna,” he said.

Violet blinked the water out of her eyes in disbelief. “What are
you
about to do?”

“Stop touching yourself.” Violet glanced down at her hand, which she’d unintentionally shoved between her legs. Her clit was dying for attention. It was a natural reflex. Still, just as simply, she pulled her hand away at Grant’s command. “Thanks. Now, go. I’m going to finish.”

He turned his back to her and started stroking his cock. He was going to finish himself off without her.

“You are Satan. Actually Satan.”

He said nothing, probably thinking the motion of his arm was response enough.

Violet spun around and stormed off to the sauna, grabbing a fluffy white towel off a decorative stand before she slammed the door behind her. She climbed up on the warm wood and waited, thinking of how bad she was going to tell Grant off when he came through the door.

He may be the Dom, but what did that even mean? Nothing. He would come walking into the sauna with his beautiful, naked body and his sexy, rugged facial hair and she would demand that he make her come. If he was spent and needed some recovery time to get it up, he’d just have to get creative. Hands, mouth. She didn’t care. She was going to end this orgasm drought tonight.

Finally the sauna door swung open, and stupid, perfect Grant stepped inside. The small space shrunk by half as he ducked his head to enter. His cock was softening, but still partially engorged. She couldn’t believe he’d come without her.

Violet made a show of throwing off her towel and opening her legs. Then she ran her fingers over her clit to show Grant she really meant business. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but either way I’m coming tonight.”

“Okay.”

He practically pounced on her, hoisting her legs over the crooks of his arm and sliding her butt to the edge of the wood. Pinning her down with the angle of his body, he used all four of his fingers to swiftly rub her clit and her pussy lips. Violet was so wound up, so sensitive, that the quick flicks of his wrist were all it took for her back to seize up, as her orgasm shattered through her.

She cried out, begging for more. To be filled and fucked, but Grant pulled his hand away, trailing a path of her wetness down her thigh.

“That’s all you get tonight,” he said. Still he kissed her, in the mind-scrambling way that keyed her up all over again.

✶

Nearly an hour later, they still sat in the sauna. Grant had turned the heat off and the room had cooled, but Violet was still warm, pressed against his body. He stroked her arm, his breath fanning lightly over the crown of her head.

“You know every time you’ve gotten in trouble, you’ve been with that friend of yours, Faye,” he said.

“She’s not all bad. We just make poor decisions together.”

“I’m going to say this and I don’t want you take it the wrong way and I don’t want you to think of it as fodder for a confrontation with your friend either, but as your trainer this is food for thought I need to give you.”

Violet sat back a bit so she could see his face.

“Do you think Faye is an enabler? You said she took you to YogurtTown, then out to drinks and then out to a concert last night. You told me yourself that you regretted the yogurt.
I
want to see Backstreet Boys live, so I know you don’t regret that, but are there other times that you do things with her that you regret?”

Violet knew the answer immediately, but she hated to say the words out loud. She loved Faye. She was an amazing friend, but ninety-percent of the time they spent together was under Faye’s pressure or Faye’s insistence.

Their work was hard. They put in long hours for weeks at a time. Some shows stretched on where they wouldn’t have a personal day off for a month. When they had free time, and when Faye wasn’t with Patrick, Violet felt obligated to hang out with her, even when she didn’t want to. Not that she didn’t enjoy Faye’s company, but there were times she wanted to be alone, just to unwind and veg. Not think about work. Or Faye or her boyfriend.

“She’s not an enabler,” Violet said. “But there are times I wish I could say no to her.”

“Why can’t you?”

Another truth that carried a brutal sting. “She’s my only friend. So many people out here are so fake. I tried to be myself and make friends when I moved here, but it feels like everyone has ulterior motives. A script to be sold, a headshot to push. People survive out here stepping on each other’s necks, but Faye and I met and we stuck together. We helped each other professionally and became friends because of it.”

“I get that. I want you to forget about Faye for a moment. Other than your obvious weight loss goals, what do you want for yourself?”

Violet smiled at the first thing that popped into her mind. It was so superficial and silly, but it was something she wanted. She chuckled a little. “A new dress. A few new dresses. I have nice stuff, but the sizes are all over the place and really it’s all work stuff. I want a new dress and some cute boots.”

“Then that’s your homework this week. New boots. New dress. And—”

“And?”

“Don’t take Faye shopping with you.”

The suggestion should have felt odd, but it didn’t. She considered a little retail therapy on her own, without having to talk about work or someone else’s boyfriend, or even feeling the odd pressure of having to keep what happened between her and Grant to herself, and suddenly she felt relieved.

Day 11

Grant stepped out of Armando’s truck, not even trying to wipe the dumb grin off his face. He managed it when he had to, but it was hard to stop thinking about Violet. As he and Mando made their way to the Whole Foods entrance, her face was all he could picture. The cute way she complained and taunted him was all that played in his mind.

“You’re singing again, man,” Armando said.

Grant hadn’t even noticed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me, but you gotta give me details. I thought you were going to break something last night and now you look like—well, I mean, shit, you’re singing.”

They walked inside and joined the line at the juice bar so Armando could order this gross beet-celery shit he swore by.

“I don’t know what to say, man.”

“Is it working out the way you wanted it to? Clearly it is, but the way she was talking, no respect for you at all. Sure she fits in the D/s file?”

“She’s destroying the D/s file.” Grant laughed. “She’s never subbed before, but she’s a natural at it, when she’s not yelling at me.”

“You spank her yet?”

“No. She’ll like it too much and she hasn’t earned that reward yet.”

“You are so screwed.”

“Why? Because I’m taking it slow with her?”

“’Cause she has you wrapped around her whole fist. Just look at yourself. You’re smiling like a dope and you’ve only been messing with her for a week.”

Immediately Grant wanted to defend their relationship. Instead he told Mando to go grab them a table while he picked out his own lunch. He didn’t feel like he and Violet were messing around. Things were casual, in a sense. He hadn’t tied her up, gagged her, spanked her, made her kneel in various submissive poses to his satisfaction. She only followed his instructions fifty percent of the time and, fuckin’ hell, she couldn’t keep from talking back to him. They weren’t up all night talking on the phone. She wasn’t blowing his cell up with non-stop texts, but there was something there, a connection that extended way beyond their agreement as client and trainer. More than the simple verbal pact they’d made as completely unprepared Dom and shit-talking sub.