Page 65 of Gym Junkie


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He crosses his arms and glares at me.

“What?” I snap. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t do the jealousy thing, Brock.”

“I do.” He growls. “Get fucking used to it.” He storms out of the bathroom and I hear him go downstairs.

I close my eyes as my heart beats hard in my chest. Simon was never jealous.

Not once. God, Brock’s like another species of man entirely, one I’m not used to.

I take my time to shower, and then I put his robe on and head downstairs. I find him lying on the sofa pretending to watch television. I know that Simon is in the air flying to London, so I’m going to let him think that he won.

“Fine, I’ll call him now,” I say.

Brock snaps as his eyes stay glued to the television.

I bite my bottom lip to hide my smile and I dial the number. I hate to admit it but having a guy getting jealous over me feels kind of hot. The phone rings.

Oh shit, what if he actually answers?

You have reached Simon Austin.

Your call is important to me.

Leave a message after the beep.

Have a nice day.

I smile as I hear the message. His voice is such a contrast to the aggressive message on Brock’s machine. I wait for the beep.

“Hi, Simon, it’s Tully. I really need to talk to you. I’ll call you back tomorrow night.” I glance over at Brock, and he raises his chin in satisfaction, thinking he’s won that argument.

Little does he know I’ll be calling Simon tomorrow when he’s not around.

There is no way I’m having this conversation in front of Brock.

I hang up. “Are you happy now?” I ask.

He pats his lap, and I smile and crawl over to him, curling up in a ball when he kisses my forehead. “Don’t fuck me around with him, Tully. I won’t stand for it.”

I snuggle into his chest and I can feel him begin to relax. “I’m not going to, Brock. There is no need to be jealous. I’m a one-man kind of girl and I’m with you now.” I kiss his chest.

He puts his pointer finger under my chin and lifts my face to meet his. “I don’t do things in halves,” he whispers. “If I’m in, I’m all in.”

“I know.” I smile softly, and I have to wonder if this is the reason he has never gone down the girlfriend path before. Maybe all in has always been too much for him to take. “How about you put that big dick all in?” I whisper as I widen my eyes to lighten the mood.

He smirks and then pulls me over his lap to straddle him. he looks up at me as I brush his dark hair back from his face. We fall silent and just stare at each other.

“I really like you.” I smile softly.

“You’d better.”

I wake to the feeling of a large erection in my back. Brock is nestled against me.

“Good morning, Tully Pocket.” His lips drop to my neck.

I reach back and cup his face. “Good morning.” I smile. “Is that thing always hard?”

“Only when it’s around you.”

“Hmm.” I smile sleepily. “Smart dick.”

He kisses my shoulder. “Genius, actually.”

I giggle as I roll onto my back. “And what does your genius dick have to tell me this morning, Mr. Marx?”

He looks down at me with his big brown eyes, his face alight with mischief. He looks so playful. I run my fingers through his thick hair, and then down over the dark stubble on his face. “He just wanted to check on your girls.”

“My girls?” I frown.

“Yeah. You know? Your party girls.”

He cups my breast and then runs his hand from my knee up to my thigh where his fingers find that spot between my legs. He circles at just the right pressure. He pats my sex, as if I am supposed to know what that means.

My brows rise and I giggle. “My vagina is my party girl?”

He nods slowly with a naughty grin. “One of them.”

“What’s her name?” I smirk.

He narrows his eyes. “Princess Pussy Porridge.”

“What the hell?” I burst out laughing. “Porridge? What the hell is porridge.”

He chuckles as he bends and takes my nipple into his mouth before moving on to trail kisses down my stomach. “The breakfast of champions, that’s what it is.”

I smile goofily as he pulls my legs back to the mattress and sucks hard.

My breath catches instantly and I’m rendered speechless.

“Feed me, wench.” He growls as he bites me, and I laugh, resting my hands on the back of his head.

God, this man is simply delicious.

I tap my pen on my desk and stare straight ahead. I’ve gone over the conversation I’m about to have at least a hundred times in my head this morning.

Simon, my beautiful Simon. The man I swore to love for all of eternity, only to develop feelings for another man just eight months later.

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