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Theglass door to the gym swung inward as I pushed my way inside. I wore a pair of army green workout shorts, black sneakers, and a black tank top with a silver stripe across the chest. The walk from the car was quick and brisk, goose bumps forming along the back of my arms and up my neck. Inside, I stepped up to a laminated counter with neon tubing stretching across the front in shades of electric yellow and cherry red. A petite young woman with silvery lavender hair greeted me with a smile.
I craned my neck to look to the left in the direction that led to the gym proper. I scanned the crowd, the space about half full. Bennett swung from around a corner at a light jog. He wore black camo leggings under black shorts and a gray sleeveless shirt. Sweat glistened his brow. His arms were massive and my hands flexed as if they squeezed his biceps. He wore a set of white, wireless earbuds, the right one he double-tapped with his index finger.
“He’s with me. Guest pass for the day.” The woman nodded and punched something into her computer. Bennett stuck his hands on his hips as his chest rose and fell in heaves. “Was sprinting. Saw your car pull up. You gotta slow down,” he teased, playfulness twinkling in his eyes. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His hair was slick with sweat, the natural blond now a shade of brown.
This is a mistake,I thought. I could already feel the blood rushing south.This is ahugemistake. Not only had I not been laid in almost a year, I was about to embark in physical activity with the pinnacle of my sexual desire.
I swallowed and forced my eyes not to linger anywhere but on Bennett’s face, especially those arms. “Sorry to stop you. You can finish? I usually row for fifteen before I start my workout.”
Bennett rolled his lips together. He, however,didlet his eyes wander, specifically targeting my chest, trimmed, dark hair fanning above the cut of my tank top. The blood marching south became a full-on invasion. My libido had the cavalry galloping toward victory.
“Yeah, that’s fine. Did you… wanna work out together?” he asked.
No. Yes. No and yes. “I don’t want to intrude. I feel like I’m already messing up your day.”
He nodded. No blinking. His body emitted a faint exuberance; the way he rocked foot to foot, the constant movement of his lips even when he didn’t speak. The endorphins from his sprint must have given him confidence. I would have enjoyed the departure from this morning’s coldness if I hadn’t thrown my focus at not tenting my shorts in front of him.
“It’ll be fine. I haven’t had a workout partner in a while,” he said.
We both stared at each other and stayed silent for a moment. In the periphery of my vision, I saw the attendant squint in confusion as she looked back and forth between us. A show of awkwardness.
“Hey,” she said, breaking the moment. “Aren’t you that guy fromCode of Justice? Harlan Mercer. ‘Special agent,’” she said and used air quotes with wide, googly eyes. “Yeah, you’re Agent Mercer.”
I looked over at her and gave a polite smile. I hadn’t been on the show in two years, but the earlier seasons saw plenty of rewatches on syndication and streaming services. The residuals fromCode of Justicealone kept my finances afloat. “That’s me, yep.”
“Cool.”
Silence again.
Bennett backstepped and shot me with two finger guns. “Fifteen minutes, yeah?”
I nodded. “Fifteen. Come find me when you’re done.” He double tapped his earbud and jogged up to the second floor, a cardio mezzanine overlooking the first.
Rowing was the worst choice possible. I should have gone for a run. The rhythmic back and forth, pushing and pulling, allowed my increasingly hardening dick to rub my too-tight boxer-briefs along my thigh. With each rep, I grew stiffer, as if I were jerking myself off right there in the gym.
This is not good. This is definitely not good. Concentrate on something else, Con.
I had a lovely view of the parking lot courtesy of the glass wall. Not distracting enough. The rower had a small television mounted over the LCD screen. I turned on the television, found a religious network, and focused on a trio of octogenarians sitting around a table discussing the importance of donating to their church. Lizard Connor had slithered back into my head when I saw Bennett wearing that outfit, but now, the power of prayer and shady tithing beat him into submission.
My erection didn’t completely subside by the time the fifteen minutes were up, but it did become manageable. Bennett came into view right at the fifteen minutes mark. Sweat stains formed around the collar of his shirt.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Absolutely. What’s first?” I stood from the rower and rolled my neck. “I’m open to anything.”
He extended both hands as if he carried the next big deal. “Squats?”
“Squats.”
I followed him to the rear of the gym along a wall of mirrors and half a dozen Smith machines. Bennett grabbed the farthest to the left, a secluded spot in the corner where the cardio equipment from the mezzanine couldn’t see us. He popped out his earbuds and stuffed them into the pocket of his shorts.
I called upon Rita, Reggie, and Paul from my new favorite religious talk show to help me through the next twenty minutes. Bennett could squat more than me, something that didn’t surprise me given his bulky build. No—that wasn’t the issue. My ego could take a hit any day of the week. It was hisass. His first rep had me praying and looking away. His leggings didn’t help the matter, giving me little room for imagination on what he’d look like naked in my bed. I wanted to dive in. Pull him open and fill him, use him, pleasure him.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. My shorts tented. We had only gone through two sets each.
“Wow, your leg,” Bennett said.
