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Chapter Eight
Rhenn
I worked for a few hours this morning with a big-ass smile on my face. Hell, it’s the same smile I wore last night when I got back from the gym and fell into bed. I was alone, of course, and my thoughts were on only one woman: Marissa.
Surprisingly, I didn’t see her this morning at the house. I thought for sure she’d be there, working in the guest rooms, but she never showed. I even thought about walking back to her little house and knocking on the door to make sure everything was all right. I didn’t, though. Instead, I recalled the way she looked last night, her eyes sparkling like emeralds, when I suggested we work on a few karate moves this morning.
I have a few moves for her and none of them are related to karate.
It’s almost ten o’clock and I’m walking to the gym after just checking out of the bed and breakfast I was staying at. Meghan had sent me a text a few minutes ago to let me know she’s on her way, and Nick called to tell me he was just finishing his pre-sail check and ready to head out. It’ll take him just a little longer to get here than his wife, but he definitely didn’t draw the short straw. I’d take sailing over riding in a vehicle any day.
The air changes the moment I step through the door. Weights clank and treadmills hum. It’s a pretty nice gym, honestly, and if I were in the market for one in the future, this would probably be the one I’d pick. But, I’m not in the market. I have my own small gym in the back of my dojo that I use daily, and in just a few short weeks, I’ll be back to my usual life, away from Rockland Falls.
Away from Marissa.
That thought settles like a lead balloon in my stomach.
Before I can glance around the small atrium of the gym, I know she’s already here. I can sense her presence, smell her sweet fragrance. Marissa looks nervous as she approaches, a cup of coffee in one hand and her cell phone in the other. “Hi,” she says, coming up alongside me.
“Hey,” I respond, happy she’s here. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if she’d make it to our little impromptu lesson. She’s wearing tight bicycle shorts that leave absolutely nothing to my dirty imagination and a loose-fitting tank top. My mouth starts to water and my cock starts to stir in my shorts.
I’m not so sure this is a great idea anymore.
We head toward the matted room without saying anything, tension along for the tour. (Sexual tension, if you were wondering.) I hold open the door and wave her in, following behind as we step inside so I can check out her ass in those shorts. Hey, I’m a guy. Marissa stops short and I have to stifle the groan that threatens to fly from my mouth when I spy the reason. Staci is there, sitting on a bench with her legs spread, stretching from side to side.
Okay, let’s talk for a moment.
Typically, the guy brain attached to my cock would have noticed. Hell, old Rhenn would probably already be fucking her on that very bench she sits on. But right now, all I want is for her to disappear so I can have an hour with Marissa to demonstrate a few self-defense moves.
Disturbing thought, considering just a few weeks ago, I let my little head make all of my decisions. Right now, little head is definitely hoping to sneak a few peeks of whatever bra Marissa is wearing underneath that tank top or maybe even brush against her ass as I hold her against my body to show her how to escape a perpetrator.
Nowhere in all of my daydreams is Staci present. Old Rhenn, hell yes! Threesome? Sign him up! But new Rhenn? This weird guy who entertains thoughts of a (whispers…relationship), well, he just wants to enjoy a little time with the woman who has piqued his interest and invaded his dreams.
“Staci, I wasn’t expecting you to be here,” I say casually, yet feeling anything but.
“Well, I thought that since you were offering private workouts, I’d see if you had time for one more,” she replies, batting those eyelashes and arching her chest forward. It’s not cold in here, but her nipples strain against the sports bra she’s wearing.
Running my hand over the top of my head, I try to figure out how in the hell to get myself out of this situation. Never have I led Staci to think I was interested in any one-on-one anything, but here I am, dumbfounded for probably the first time in my adult life, and trying to figure out how to get myself out of an awkward and unwanted situation.
“Actually, Staci, now isn’t really a good time. I only had budgeted a little time with Marissa, and then I have friends coming in later. Maybe another time,” I offer, though wish I wouldn’t have. Especially when I see her eyes light up in anticipation and feel Marissa tense beside me.
Fuck. I’m jacking this up good.
“Sure thing, Rhenny,” Staci replies, her bright white teeth a contrast to the dark red on her lips. I cringe when the familiar nickname spills from her lips. I hate that damn nickname. Ninety-eight percent of the women I’ve screwed have called me by that fucking name, like turning it into some cutesy baby name is somehow appropriate. Most of the time I haven’t minded, especially because I wasn’t with them for their ability to use adult words.
Feeling like an utter ass, I hold completely still as Staci comes over and places her hands on my chest. I stop breathing when she moves in, her expensive perfume wrapping around me entire body and squeezing it to death, as she places her lips on my cheek. It feels familiar, but unwanted. There’s only one set of lips I want on my body, and it’s not Staci’s.
She pulls back and gives me a wink before flitting away, a wide swing to her hourglass hips. I don’t intentionally watch her go, at least not for the reason you may think. It’s more of that shell-shocked, completely beside myself, what the fuck am I supposed to do now? kinda reasons.
When the door closes behind her, I risk a glance at Marissa.
And I wish I hadn’t.
Her eyes are cast downward, but I can feel the sadness and resolution settle between us. I’ve never thought Marissa to be weak. She doesn’t appear to be a woman who will roll over and let someone walk over her. I’ve seen that spunky side, with her sassy comebacks and her quick wit. But I don’t see any of that now. I see a woman who finds herself second-best – and probably not for the first time either. Someone who has been compared to someone else and found lacking.
And that instantly pisses me off.
Because Marissa Grayson is the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met. This I can tell after only knowing her mere days – a week. She’s beautiful, inside and out, and has the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. Shit, I’ve never cared to see past the big hair and fake tits before, but here I am, craving to get to know someone better, to catch glimpses of the person she hides deep down from the rest of the world.
