With that command, I eagerly take him in, feeling the heat and weight of him as I move, my lips wrapping around him. He gasps, his hands tangling in my hair, guiding me as he thrusts deeper, the tension building between us. Just as I feel him reaching his peak, he lets out a low growl, his release spilling into my mouth completely.
As we collapse together, our breaths mingling once more, I can’t help but smile against his chest, feeling utterly consumed—and utterly satisfied—by the incredible connection we’ve just shared. In this moment, nothing else matters.
This feels like we’ve crossed some line, but I wouldn’t change a thing.
Any repercussions are forweekday Elenato deal with.
Chapter Fifteen
ELENA
Late afternoon Tuesday, The gym is crowded again.
The vibe is different today. Meaning, no quiet morning intimacy, no lingering glances, no accidental kisses between reps.
Just fluorescent lights, clanking weights, and Colt pretending he didn’t spend an entire weekend turning my bones to jelly.
He’s calm today. Focused and professional seeming, which would be great…
If I were any of those things.
But I’m distracted.Extremelydistracted.
There’s his voice. The feel of his hands adjusting my form.
Plus his smile that only hits one side first.
And, of course fact that I’ve seen him without a shirt now—or shorts—and will probably never recover.
We’re finishing our cool-down stretching when someone clears his throat loudly behind us.
Colt and I look up at the same time to see him.
Damien.
He’s got his hands on hips, and his jaw clenched with an expression like he just smelled gym socks from 2009.
But he’s staring atme.
“Elena,” he says, too brightly. “Do you have a second?”
Colt turns to stone.
I blink. “Uh… sure?”
Damien gestures toward a semi-private nook near the smoothie bar. Colt shoots me a panicked look like I’m walking toward a firing squad.
I shrug at him and follow Damien.
He stops, faces me, then clasps his hands.
And with all the seriousness of a man issuing a subpoena, he says:
“I need to ask you something…quite sensitive.”
My eyebrows shoot up.
“Are you dying?” I whisper dramatically.
