The Beauty Within (14 page)

such a fast learner. She was becoming increasingly proficient with his equip-

ment, and her form improved every single time she did weights or ran on the

treadmill. She wasn’t giving him many opportunities to touch her, either, and

Gunnar had a sneaking suspicion it was because she also couldn’t handle it.

He felt a little better about that.

“How are the sessions goin’?”

Gunnar nodded as Damon took a seat opposite the desk. Gunnar was

going over the expense reports before he taught his kickboxing class at the top

of the next hour.

“Good. She’s improving. I’m thinking about upping the intensity for next

week.”

“She’ll be able to handle it. Tyler’s a trooper.”

“Yes…”

It was awkward for Gunnar to talk about Tyler, even if nothing had really

been going on between them. Outside of the kiss, they hadn’t done anything to

breach the student-teacher/friendship relationship they had decided to pursue.

The Beauty Within

75

No, not they.
She
.

“You seem unhappy about that.”

Gunnar closed his eyes briefly and tried to ignore Damon. “Not unhappy.”

“Frustrated, then?”

“Damon…”

The other man chuckled. “Contrary to popular belief, black women don’t

give it up with a two-for-one coupon. You gotta
earn
the panty drop!”

“It’s not even about that—”

“Isn’t it? I know you’re physically attracted to her—”

“It’s not
just
that, either,” Gunnar insisted, throwing down his pen. “She

won’t even give me a chance!”

“A chance to do what?”

Gunnar sputtered, trying to find the true answer. He meant it when he

said it was more than physical; there was just
something
about Tyler he couldn’t

explain. She was an enigma he wanted to explore and discover, an intrigue

who demanded more of his attention than any other woman ever had.

“When you first met Wendy…what was your immediate thought?” Gunnar

asked, hoping to glean something that would be of use to him.

Damon smiled, a faraway look in his eyes. “That she was fine as hell.”

“And?”

“‘And’? ‘And’ what? That was the immediate thought.”

Gunnar rolled his eyes. “How long did you have that thought?”

“Until she asked me if she could help me because I was staring at her too

hard. I almost ended things before they began, because I had
wanted
to say ‘all

night long’, but if you hadn’t noticed, Carver women don’t appreciate being

sexualized.”

“Or any woman,” Gunnar murmured.

“True…but still…something about those Carver women—”

“
Exactly
,” Gunnar said, nodding agreement. “Exactly.”

Damon nodded as well. “I get you. I get you.”

At least someone got something, because as Gunnar walked into the bar-

bershop that Wednesday, spotting Tyler eating something he
knew
wasn’t on

her meal plan, he was no closer to figuring her out than he’d been the moment

he’d first met her.

She hadn’t noticed him yet, but from the way she closed her eyes as she bit

into the deep-fried piece of meat, he knew she was in culinary heaven. She

wiped away juice and grease that had dribbled down her chin, and the low

moan of approval had the consequential effect of making him tighten in his

jeans.

“You’re being very naughty.”

Tyler started, but to her credit and his burgeoning arousal, merely

stretched her mouth into a slow smile and took another large bite of her fried

chicken. “
Mmm
…”

76

Savannah J. Frierson

He allowed a corner of his mouth to curve as he stalked towards her,

shrugging out his jacket and throwing it aimlessly to the waiting chairs against

the wall. He stood behind her right shoulder and looked into the Styrofoam

tray: two fried chicken thighs, fries with honey mustard sauce, coleslaw,

biscuit. Next to the tray the
pièce de résistance
: a large paper cup of sweet tea. He

knew because she didn’t drink anything else.

“And how many crunches, wall push-ups, and miles on the treadmill are

you willing to do to counteract all of this?”

“That would be a grand total of zero, Bob,” she said in a mockery of a game

show announcer’s voice, picking up two fries completely covered in sauce.

“You want some?”

“I like my arteries clog-free, thank you.”

“Don’t judge me,” Tyler muttered before eating the fries. She moaned again

and licked her fingers. “So good…”

“So bad for you, Tyler,” Gunnar said, shaking his head. He picked up the

drink. “So many calories you don’t need—”

“You’re killin’ my buzz,” Tyler mumbled, wiping her hands on a napkin

before taking the cup from him. She took a long drag from the straw, her

eyelids fluttering closed and another moan sounding from deep in her throat.

Gunnar knew she was putting on a show, but damn if he weren’t enjoying it.

He wanted to feel that moan vibrate on the column of his throat or elsewhere,

feel those soft, wet lips dance along his chest and abdomen, feel those fingers

smooth against his back and lower…

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he almost whined. He hated sounding so

childish, but it really wasn’t fair she enticed him so much.

“Man, I’ve been cravin’ this
all day
! A coworker brought it in for all of us at

lunch and I didn’t decide to eat it until
just now
! So I’m eating reheated fries and

biscuits and chicken—all of which taste better
immediately
from the stove and

oven, and you’re bein’ a killjoy! Leave me alone!”

“I can’t—”

“You
won’t
,” Tyler corrected, glaring at him.

Gunnar had no idea if they were still teasing each other or not, but as she

took another bite of fries, Gunnar knew he’d been teased enough. When she

reached for her tray again, Gunnar grabbed her wrist and brought her flush

against him. Her eyes went wide with indignation.

“Gunnar! What are you—?”

His tongue tangled with hers, effectively cutting off her speech. He tasted

grease, salt, sugar, and her own personal flavor, and he wanted more.

He began walking backwards slowly, keeping Tyler close and his mouth

attached to hers. Her hands gripped his biceps, but Gunnar knew her brain

hadn’t quite caught up to the fact he was kissing her and she was enjoying it.

The backs of his calves found a chair and he sat down, grasping Tyler’s bum

The Beauty Within

and bringing her to straddle his lap. Groaning, he bucked, pressing his hard-

ness against her heat, and she whimpered in response.

“Gunnar,” she gasped as she broke away briefly, looking at him with wild,

confused eyes.

“Tyler.”

His hand cupped her cheek and he kissed her harder. The look of pure baf-

flement in her eyes bothered Gunnar more than he wanted to admit, and he

vowed he would make his feelings for her explicitly clear from now on.

He wanted her. Badly. Completely.

He smiled a little when her hands timidly drifted from his biceps to his

shoulders, and her mouth became more insistent against his. His hands moved

back down to her waist and he brought her ever closer, pressing her down into

his lap so she could feel him again.

“
Elskling
,” he mumbled, moving his mouth from her lips to her cheek and

neck. His fingers walked up her torso until they found the generous mound of

one breast. Unable to resist, he curled his fingers around it, moaning at how

soft and full it was.

“Gunnar!”

“Baby,” he whispered, kissing her mouth again as his other hand cupped

the remaining breast. He wanted to know every contour and shape of them,

and when he felt the stiff points of her nipples against his palms, he thrust up

his hips and bit her bottom lip in reaction.

“You like this,” he murmured against her lips. He slowly opened his eyes,

yet hers remained closed. Her eyelids fluttered, and her breath came out in

spurts against his nose. He could smell her dinner on her breath, but instead of

being repulsed, he was turned on even more.

He bit her bottom lip gently. “Admit it,
elskling
, you like this. My hands on

you, my lips. You want me just as much as I want you—”

“No!”

Everything crashed to a standstill, and she began scrambling to get off him.

Gunnar was breathing as heavily as she was, and he moved his hands to her

waist to make sure she didn’t fall in her mad dash to leave.

“Tyler—”

“If you’re not here for a cut, you gotta go,” she said, refusing to meet his

gaze.

Gunnar clenched his jaw and helped her stand, but he remained seated,

watching her go back to her tray of food. She stared at it, biting her bottom lip,

then closed the lid. There was still plenty of food, but if Tyler felt even the

slightest of what he did, that wasn’t the hunger needing the most satisfaction

right then.

“Why are you running?” Gunnar asked quietly.

She refused to look at him, grabbing a paper towel from her station and

wiping down the space where she’d eaten.

78

Savannah J. Frierson

“Tyler—”

“Do you want this haircut or not?”

Gunnar could see her trembling. She was really freaked out, and while part

of him felt bad, the majority of him was frustrated. It was obvious they were

attracted to each other, and the times they had kissed told Gunnar they would

be explosive together, so why was she so damn shy and skittish about it? He

wouldn’t hurt her…

“You can’t make a promise like that.”

The words were soft, sad, and though Gunnar hadn’t been aware he’d spo-

ken out loud, Tyler’s dejected response made him stand.

“You won’t even let me try.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because—”

The bell to her shop sounded, and both looked up to see a tall black man

wearing a sharp brown trench coat and matching fedora enter. He took off the

hat and smiled in a way that made Gunnar want to stand closer to Tyler in a

show of possession.

“Can I get a cut?”

Tyler’s eyes went wide, and then they narrowed. “Can’t you read? It’s clo-

sin’ time!”

He ducked his head in acknowledgment and his eyes slid to Gunnar. “Hel-

lo.”

“Hi.”

Both greetings were clipped, as if doing it more for the benefit of Tyler

than any genuine motivation of propriety.

The man came closer, easily dismissing Gunnar and focusing solely on Ty-

ler. “Come on. It won’t take long. Besides, I have a hot date tonight and I want

to look my best.”

Tyler scoffed, her hand tightening around the damp paper towel. “Right…”

The man grinned, reaching out and dragging his knuckles against her

cheek. “Ty. It’s
you
, baby. I wanna take you out tonight. You’re not busy, are

you?”

Throughout this entire exchange, Gunnar’s attention had been on Tyler,

watching how she seemed to tense and draw inward the closer this other man

came. She also didn’t look him in the eye or even in his general direction, her

eyes darting everywhere but where the man stood. It didn’t take a genius to

realize they had history beyond a barber and a client, and more to the point, an

intense one. It also didn’t help Gunnar wanted to punch the man when he

called Tyler “baby.”

He had no right.

“Tyler,” Gunnar intoned softly.

The Beauty Within

Her brown eyes met his and Gunnar wanted to make the fear and mistrust

he saw in them disappear. He held back, however, not wanting to make this

anymore difficult or awkward for her. “How much for the cut?”

“What?”

“The haircut,” Gunnar said. “How much? Fifteen?”

“Um…”

He held out a twenty and nodded. “Keep the change.” She frowned and

took it. Gunnar wanted to close his fingers around hers, but didn’t.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Reluctantly, slowly, Gunnar grabbed his jacket and put it on, watching the

man watch Tyler and Tyler ignore both of them. Whatever progress that had

been made between them had all been unraveled tonight, he could feel it, and

he knew this man would only make the regression worse.

With a final nod to Tyler, who had looked up upon the door’s bell ringing,

Gunnar left the shop, his mind whirring with solutions on how to fix the rip in

their relationship.

“I didn’t know white men came way out here for a cut.”

“Coworker of Damon’s,” Tyler said absently, noting how the comment had

mirrored hers to Gunnar when he’d first entered the shop. The contempt she’d

felt for Gunnar, however, didn’t compare to the contempt she felt now.

“Ty—”

“Why are you here?”

He blew out a breath. “It’s gonna be like that?”

“Yes.”

“Tyler—”

“I’d like for you to leave, please.”

“I didn’t even get a cut!”

“It’s after closing—”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“Things were different then.”

He dropped his head and gave her a sheepish look. “No thanks to me, huh?”

Damn him!
Even now, six years later, that look made her belly clench and

tremble. From the first time she’d met Quincy Lucas, she’d had such a powerful