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I chuckle. That’s more of what I’m used to with her.
“The first one was better. I like it when you’re nice to me.”
I set my water bottle back on the floor and then head back towards her, eating up the distance between us to meet her back by the full-length mirrors.
“Are you ready to try the twist lift again?” she asks.
“I still have a few minutes before the guys get here to work out. Let’s give it a go.”
“Let's just start with a single twist,” she says, walking over to me and giving me her back.
I put my hand around her waist, relishing the heat of her body against my fingertips, my eyes glued to her perky ass only a few inches from my cock and then I remember that I need to focus. I can’t let her get hurt during this stunt.
She places her hands over mine.
“On the count of three, I’m going to jump as high as I can. Use my momentum to toss me up into a twist.”
“Got it.”
“Are you ready?” she asks, listening over her shoulder for my response.
“Ready.”
She starts counting, bending at her knees with each count, my hands following along with her hips.
“One. Two. Three.”
She jumps, and I hoist her up into a twist, but when she comes down, it’s at an awkward angle.
I reach out to pull her against me but she’s further out front than I realize, and I grab onto whatever I’m able to stop her momentum from hitting the floor.
It’s not pretty as I grab onto her waist and a wrist. As we fall, my left arm pulls her tight to me, and my right braces us since Penelope is going to hit the ground first.
This time, I can’t twist her on top of me like I did on the ice.
We're going to hit the padded ground but it’s not soft enough to make it pleasant.
My right hand connects with the ground first, and I hear a pop from my shoulder. Pain immediately radiates through my shoulder and down my arm.
We crash against the gym floor mats, though my outstretched arm slowed us down.
“Oh my God, Slade, are you ok?” she asks with me lying on her. “I heard a pop.”
“I’m fine,” I grimace as I pull the arm that took the hit back from under her. That’s going to fucking hurt tomorrow, but nothing's broken or dislocated, so an ice pack overnight and seeing the physical therapist during office hours across from the locker room is on my immediate agenda for tonight.
She reaches for my shoulder and soothes her hand over it gently.
“Are you sure? That didn’t sound good. Should we take you to the hospital to get it checked out?” she asks, her eyes glossy with concern.
The pain in my shoulder is worth the way she’s looking at me right now.
“It’ll be fine, I promise. I’ve suffered a hell of a lot worse,” I tell her honestly.
“You could have broken your arm falling on it like that. You should have let me fall.”
I stare back at those eyes full of concern for my well-being, something I don’t think she would have felt for me even two days ago. If she only knew how many times I’d break her fall if she just kept looking at me like that.
“Penelope, I would break every bone in my body before I’d let you get a scratch. And if you don’t believe me, ask me to prove it again.”
