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He stalks after me around a blind corner in the gym and all of a sudden, it’s quieter. There’s no one around us. He backs me up to a wall and leans over me. “If I really believed that, I’d leave you alone. But I don’t.”
“You should,” I whisper weakly, tingling in all kinds of places that I don’t think I should. My body leans towards him automatically, until I jerk myself back into the wall.
His golden-brown eyes, fierce like a damn tiger, glare at me. Running up and down my face like he’s trying to see inside my head. “I don’t think even you believe that. I can see desire in your pretty brown eyes.”
I scoff. “You don’t know me that well.”
He leans into me and I can feel the heat from his body and I melt backwards into the wall. It’s either that or melt into him and there’s no way in hell I’m doing that.
There’s something about Raymond that terrifies me. He’s too big, too good-looking, too overbearing and overwhelming for me to process. I want a gentle man. A man who can understand when I’m feeling out of sorts and need my own space. Raymond would just push his way in and take over, insisting that all I need is him. He’ll make me feel better.Ha!
I learned early on after my parents died and I ended up in foster care, bouncing from house to house…you can’t count on anyone but yourself.
Which is why the man that I decide is worth my time needs to understand that I need my own space, my own time and my own identity. I’m not ever letting anyone dictate what I’m going to do and think.
Foster care wasn’t abusive per se. But what it was was the complete erasure of my whole identity. Every time I moved in with a new family it was‘I bet you’d like this if you tried it’ or‘if you tried harder at something it would really help the way you fit in in our family.’I was never good enough as I was and I was never able to decide for myself what made me happy.
I’m done with that.Iam the only one who gets to make my life’s goals. Decide who and what I am.
I push him off of me and stalk away, throwing over my stiff shoulder, “I do not want you or need you, Raymond. All I need from you is for you to move on. Find another woman to mess with. I’m not interested.”
CHAPTER2
Raymond Fairchild
There’s just something about Allie Benson. I don’t know what it is really although she’s beautiful. Sexy curves that have me salivating to touch them. A gorgeous face with sparkling brown eyes and a smile that could light up the darkest night. Long, golden-brown hair that looks soft and tempting and would look fantastic wrapped around my fist or spread across my pillow.
And to top it all off, a smart mouth that’s painted a soft rosy brown. She’s dressed today in a leotard that’s color-blocked teal and black and a pair of teal leg warmers at the bottom of her long, muscular legs. She’s about five foot five but she’s still about a foot shorter than me and to me…she’s perfect.
I sigh and walk over to a weight bench, racking up about 150 lbs. and then sitting down to lie back and push the weights over my head. Grunting, I press and pull over and over but my attention stays on her. I see her smiling at another patron, laughing and hugging her as she most likely shares a success story from her workouts.
Allie is incredibly popular with everybody in the gym. The big, open space should make you feel smaller but I don’t think anything in the world could dent her armor. She always stands tall and watches everyone around her. She’s always in control and if there’s an emergency, she’s always first in line to help.
Last week, one of the members was running on a treadmill and then all of a sudden, they stopped moving and dropped to the ground. It turned out he’d had a heart attack. Allie jumped up and took control. She got the AED and had it prepped and the man ready in literally minutes. Thanks to her quick response, that man lived. As far as everyone here, including me is concerned, she’s a damn hero.
But she just brushed it off as part of her job. She doesn’t want the notoriety of being special. She just wants to live her life and enjoy the job she loves.
They tried to give her an article in the newspaper, get her to go on the news but she just ignored it all, laughed it off uncomfortably as not necessary.
That’s how she is. She’s good at her job, sweet, smart and yet so damn resistant to anyone giving her the attention that I think she’s due.
She’s just damn perfect. For me, that is.
I stand and stretch out my muscles, feeling them tense up again when I see another man stop beside her and laugh at something she says. He moves in closer and even manages to touch her shoulder and I can’t stop the growl from coming up through my chest.
Who the fuck is that guy and why does he think he’s allowed to touch my girl?
I can see that Allie’s not comfortable with it though. She’s backed away from him and she’s still smiling but it’s nothing like her usual, sparkling smile. It’s obviously forced and I’m two seconds from storming over there and telling the guy to get the hell away from her when she solves the problem for me. She waves at another instructor and gracefully extricates herself from the awkward situation.
I take a deep breath and thank heaven that she did that. I’m no hothead but that guy was about to get a beat-down.
I sigh and finish my workout in peace since Allie is now working out of sight somewhere. I think she’s leading the dance class. I’ve got her schedule memorized and unless they’ve changed it, that’s where she’s at.
Yeah, so I’m a stalker. Oh well. I’m an idiot for this woman.
I head back to the locker room to take a shower and change out of my red and white tank top and matching track shorts into my suit and badge. Standing in the shower under the steaming-hot spray, I can’t help but picture Allie in the women’s locker room doing the same. She’s probably running a soapy hand down her body and spreading her thighs…
I groan and jerk myself back to the present. Surreptitiously, I look around, thankful I’m alone since now my dick is hard as a fucking rock.
