Layers Deep (20 page)

“Hey,
Freddie.” Tristan returned the gesture as he was lowered.

“It’s about
time you called. I wanted to thank you for what you’ve done for
this place. The boys will piss with joy when they see the new ring
next week.”

“Freddie lets
a group of teens from the community use the boxing ring. Freddie,
meet Allie Green. Allie, this is Freddie. He’s like family.”
Tristan glowed with pride.

“And Tristan
funded the makeover you see.” Freddie raised his chin.

“It’s a
pleasure to meet you.” I extended my hand when he did and instead
found myself in the arms of this man who seemed to like hugging an
awful lot. He placed a big wet smooch on my cheek, saying, “She’s a
pretty one, Tristan. And well built. You wanna get your ass kicked,
boy, bring a woman with these muscles in here.” Freddie set me down
and winked with a flirtatious grin.

“Yeah, I’m
expecting to,” Tristan laughed.

I liked
Freddie a lot.

He reached
into his pocket and handed Tristan a set of keys. “All yours.”

“Thanks, I owe
you.”

“You owe me a
coffee, nothing more. I missed my morning run to open up early for
you.” He gripped Tristan over the shoulder, “Don’t let him overwork
you, Allie. This man likes to pin women underneath him.”

“Yeah, I may
have had the pleasure already,” I said, remembering our morning at
the gym before Tristan offered me the job and that one thought of
one of our first close contacts reminded my loins how good Tristan
felt against me.

“I’ll buy you
that coffee if you stop spreading your dirty lies,” Tristan shot
back. He threw the keys onto a desk, saying, “We’ve got a lot of
work to do.”

“And I’ll take
that as ‘Get the hell out of here, old man.’ Take care, Allie.”
Freddie kissed me on the cheek, winked, and left.

“Why did you
make him go? I liked him.”

“That’s
exactly why he needed to leave. You like older men or something?”
he teased.

But I had a
feeling Tristan didn’t like other men ogling me no matter what
their age.

“Some
competition is always good for the soul,” I said.

“You need to
concentrate this week, Allie. And Freddie would be flirting with
you all day long until you had a coffee with him.”

That was the
lamest excuse I’d ever heard. “You’re going to train me?” I bit my
lip.

“Why is that
funny?” He unzipped my jacket for me and removed it. Perhaps having
him so close to me this early in the morning when he smelled better
than a fresh croissant wasn’t a good idea. I would have had an
easier time concentrating with Freddie around.

“I’m not
laughing. I just thought I’d get a professional or something.”

“If I saw
another man on top of you, he’d need to worry about me wringing his
neck.”

I liked the
hint of jealousy I’d heard in his voice. But I did have a job to
do, and from what Tristan had said, I’d better learn whatever he
wanted to teach me. Today, I’d need to control the usual urges I
felt around Tristan. I couldn’t let sex derail our training;
although that seemed almost impossible. The mere thought of
smelling his sweat near me revived a desperate tingle between my
legs.

Stop it,
Allie!

“First, they’d
have to be able to get on top of me. Now let’s get to work, Cross.”
I punched him on the arm a tad harder than intended. “What
first?”

Instead of
using the brand new equipment like I’d expected, Tristan handed me
a jump rope.

“For the warm
up.” He turned on the music. Bon Jovi sang
Because We Can
.
The music blasted through the gym and I imagined myself in that
boxing ring with Tristan, allowing him to teach me the tricks I
didn’t know. Yeah, I didn’t think I’d mention that I’d boxed
before. It had been a while, after all, and I didn’t train for
long. But it did help to learn how to interpret the opponent’s body
language and foresee their next move.

I smiled,
hoping I’d get an opportunity to show Tristan the one skill that
wasn’t in the thick file he had on me, saying, “Yes, Rocky.” I
gripped the rope’s handles and swung it around my body slowly,
building up my tempo.

Tristan jumped
facing me. I hadn’t expected him to join me in the work out. Ten
minutes passed and I began to feel the effect in my pinching lungs
and dripping sweat. But I wouldn’t stop until he did. I wondered
how long he was planning on simply skipping. Weren’t we supposed to
practice more technical moves? And why had the scar on his lip
lifted by a fraction? Did he know it made him that much sexier? The
way his feet just hovered above the ground to let the rope pass
under reminded me of Fred Flintstone. Except Tristan was much
better looking in those sweats. Gosh, how did he manage to keep so
buff? No part of his body shook when he jumped.

He must be
wearing briefs to keep his package nice and tight in there,
I
thought.
Concentrate on the work out, Allie!
This is your
job.

“So, what’s
after skipping, twinkle-toes?”

“I’m
debating.”

That scar
lifted even higher; his voice sounded more primitive than earlier.
What was he debating? Tristan’s focus shifted from my eyes to my
cleavage. Was he watching my boobs bounce?

“I think I’ve
been caught,” Tristan said with a grin.

I stopped
jumping. “You perv! We’re supposed to be exercising.” I threw the
jump rope aside.

“Believe me,
my heart gets a better work out when I look at you.” He set his
down, his chest heaving.

I scowled at
him with my hands on my hips but couldn’t deny the smell of his and
my sweat blending together was beginning to work itself into my
core.

“Can you blame
a guy?” he shrugged.

No, I
couldn’t, because resisting a better look at the thickness in his
pants had been more difficult than saying no to chocolate cake. It
took all my strength not to give in.

“Come on, this
is important, Tristan.”

“I’m sorry.
You’re right. I’m a pig.”

“I didn’t say
that, but if the shoe fits... Now what’s next? You gotta do better
than skipping.”

He strolled
over to the side and I followed. Picking up a medicine ball, he
threw it at me without any warning.

The chest to
ball impact felt more like chest to stone, but I caught it. Bending
at the knees, I braced my feet and extended my arms, pushing with
everything I had so that the ball would make it back to
Tristan.

It did. And he
was surprised.

We passed it
back and forth a dozen times. My arms ached and legs began to burn,
and I finally said, “I don’t think they’ll be throwing medicine
balls at the auction, Tristan.”

“Fine, put
these on and come inside the ring.” He pointed to the boxing gloves
and helmet with a face guard.

“Sure.” I was
actually looking forward to seeing his attempt to train me.

Tristan
stepped inside wearing only the gloves.

“Cross, don’t
underestimate me and put on your helmet.”

He raised an
inquisitive brow, “You’ve been in the ring before?”

“Maybe.”

“Then I better
suit up.”

Once inside, I
stepped from one foot to another, my bulky hands protecting my
face.

“Hit me,” he
said.

I didn’t
hesitate and threw a punch he wasn’t expecting right at his
ribs.

“Wow, I guess
you’re not playing.”

“Hit me,” I
challenged.

He threw a
straight punch, which I blocked.

“Hit me as if
I’m one of the bastards from the auction.”

Tristan tried
again, but I blocked that as well.

“Try again.
Think about the fucker who has Kendra.”

This time the
hook came from the bottom up, but I stopped that punch as well.
Tristan was simply not trying hard enough. He didn’t want to hurt
me.

“Think about
one of them touching me.”

A harder knock
came from his left. I saw the move in his eyes, and he didn’t
connect again.

“And then
fucking my brains out like...”

I didn’t
finish the sentence. The knockout came with a piercing ring in my
ear and I dropped to the floor. The room spun for a moment, and
Tristan’s voice called me from a distance. When I came around, his
equipment was off and I was in his arms, against his chest, as he
repeated, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine,
Tristan.” I grazed my palm along his worried cheek. “It wasn’t that
hard.”

“I hit you.
You fell down.”

“I was caught
off guard. That was the point.”

“You’re not
hurt?”

“No, I
promise. Let’s try this again.”

“You’re the
one doing the hitting this time, otherwise this stops, now.” He
scanned me from bottom up. His eyes glossed over with worry.

“Fine. Are we
playing by the rules?”

After a moment
of thought, he said, “No rules, but you should probably avoid this
area” – he pointed to his crotch – “otherwise I may have a tough
time doing what I want to do to you later.”

Was he
actually thinking I’d knock him below the belt? And risk his
wonderfully skilled cock not functioning for me? Not that I’d say
that out loud. Instead I shrugged. “All’s fair in a game with no
rules.”

For a split
second he actually looked nervous. After a few rounds, I managed to
get through some of Tristan’s blocks. His training here had
definitely paid off.

“You look too
fucking sexy like this.” He stopped and dropped his gloves to the
side. The gray shirt clung to his body, and I noted a definite
strain under his sweats. His three steps toward me were like a
caveman’s as he grasped my shoulders.

“What are you
doing?” I asked rhetorically. Tristan’s intention was pretty
obvious from his deepened voice and confidant hands.

“Stripping
you,” he stated, removing my helmet and my gloves. My top flew off
next and I was left in my sports bra. That ache I’d had since this
morning radiated out of my belly.

“Tat for tat.”
I yanked the shirt over his head, finally getting a good luck at
that chiseled torso, bathing in his heat.

We stood there
facing each other, in mutual admiration, neither of us too sure
where to start. My mind, lost in a maze of his muscles, didn’t know
which part of his body to touch first. Tristan was like an all you
can eat buffet, except I could never get enough of him. My hunger
for this man would return within minutes of climax.

Was that
thunder outside, or my heart begging to be closer to Tristan? I
could hear it pounding in my ears. It seemed like minutes passed,
but I wasn’t sure. And when Tristan crushed into me, enveloping me
in his arms, I was glad I no longer had to decide what to do. Our
bodies writhed together as he dominated my mouth, keeping my face
firmly between his hands. Tristan pressed against me. Every curve
of his excitement stung my arousal. My frantic hands wandered up
and down his bulging arms, in between us, along his chest and abs,
which rippled under my touch. And finally they wandered down the
happy trail to the elastic of his pants.

I slid my hand
inside, gripping his hard flesh, wanting his length inside me. As
if hearing my plea, Tristan lowered my pants and panties at the
same time, inhaling more deeply as he knelt. A loud growl escaped
his throat. The moment he let go of my mouth allowed me to catch a
much needed breath, but I was sure the room wouldn’t stop spinning
for a while now. On the way up he removed my sports bra, forcing me
to wriggle out of the tight fabric. The pressure of thick ring
ropes against my back, ass, and knees restricted my movement
backward. For me, there was only one thing left to do: I tugged on
his pants, taking them down off his hips, right along with the
briefs.

Tall and
proud, Tristan’s cock freed from the constraint of his sweats, had
a drip of pre-cum on its tip. His fingers slipped between my heated
folds, suavely spreading my damp desire around my swollen opening.
His mouth found my neck and he latched on. Lifting my leg to rest
on the bottom rope I opened up for him. Lowering his own body to
position his cock underneath me, Tristan prodded my entrance. And
with one last look into my eyes, he drove himself into me.

Spreading my
arms out to the sides, I gripped the top rope and let him take
over. His mouth grazed my chin and my lower lip, biting gently as
he moved in and out of my slick opening. The stretch of his width
and depth of his advance was exactly what I needed. I closed my
eyes, wanting him to rule my body. Tristan’s hands grasped my
breasts and his mouth overpowered mine. Once again I wasn’t sure
what to focus on: his desperate mouth stealing my every shaken
breath; his full palms moulding my engorged breasts, thumbs grazing
over my hardened nipples; or the ruthless penetration between my
legs. I’d be bruised by morning, but I didn’t care. So I just hung
onto the rope as if I was holding onto my life, resisting the
oncoming climax, wanting this moment to last forever.

But the speed
of his hips and friction of his full naked front against me,
feeling his skin everywhere, was unbearable, and soon I found my
focus. The sensation grew in my pussy. Right there in the middle it
built in pressure with each thrust. It turned from a velvety glow
to a raw force that had been swirling inside me for decades,
wanting to leave my body out of each and every pore. And I let go
as it took over my limbs. I didn’t know when I began trembling. The
orgasm engulfed me like flames of an inferno, and my whole body
quivered in Tristan’s arms. I heard a loud scream that wasn’t my
own leave my mouth. Sometime during my shudders, Tristan stilled as
well, tightening his full arms around me, letting his release take
him over as well.

We both
collapsed to the floor. Spent, I snuggled against his sticky body,
listening to his heart. A while passed before I could speak.