AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Caleb showed him, the force of the punch making a satisfying whoosh.
“Cross,” Roman repeated, pivoting his body as he aimed the punch. Hmm, that wasn’t good. No force behind it. He tried again.
“Here, let me—” Caleb stepped in, adjusting Roman’s shoulder firmly. The touch sparked heat wherever skin met skin, a current that ran down Roman’s spine. “Twist your torso more. The power has to come from your core.”
His breath ghosted over Roman’s ear, which made it hard to concentrate. Still, his next effort was better, even though his core was buried somewhere under the extra padding he carried.
He threw an uppercut next, the gesture less about technique and more about the fire building in his gut.
“Nice. Let’s run through it again.” Caleb retreated a few steps to give Roman space.
One, two, three, the punches flowed, each hit better than the last. Roman found a rhythm, a connection to the power he wielded with every strike. Caleb’s presence urged him on, stoking the fire within.
“Jab, jab, hook,” Caleb said. “Perfect. Do it again.”
He kept throwing out sequences, and Roman did them, faltering at first but then with more confidence.
“Good. Now let’s see you hit the bag.”
Caleb stepped back, his blue eyes tracking every shift of Roman’s frame. He circled, watching Roman intently, and Roman couldn’t help but rise to the challenge.
Roman approached the bag, fists raised. He unleashed a sequence—jab, cross, hook—each strike punctuated by the grunt escaping his throat. Sweat ran in rivulets down his back, slicking his skin. This feeling of power, of losing himself to the physicality of the moment, was raw, so much more intense than Roman had realized. His muscles were screaming, those gloves weighing a hundred pounds now, but he kept at it.
“Keep your guard up.” Caleb guided Roman’s wrists, adjusting the angle of attack. “And pivot on your back foot.”
The subtle brush of Caleb’s fingers against his skin sent an unexpected jolt through Roman’s body, igniting a low thrum of arousal simmering beneath his focus. He grew half-hard, trapped in a tangle of exhilaration and desire as he shadowboxed the air.
Caleb watched him intensely, a smirk playing on those full lips. Tension crackled, a current that flowed with the rhythm of their breaths. Why Caleb was interested in him, Roman had no idea, but, man, was it intoxicating.
Roman’s fists thudded against the bag, a final barrage that left the air heavy with the scent of exertion. He stepped back, chest heaving, his sweat-drenched T-shirt clinging to him like a second skin.
“Damn.” Roman huffed out as he took off the gloves and stretched his red, raw fists. “I’m a mess.”
Caleb leaned against the wall, his eyes alight with an unmistakable spark of lust. “Don’t apologize. Men should sweat.” His tongue darted out, moistening his lips as if tasting the salt. “It’s hot as hell.”
Heat flushed through Roman, pooling in his groin. So he hadn’t imagined Caleb looking at him with want. Roman’s pulse hammered in his ears. The rules of engagement had shifted, and the unspoken invitation hung thick in the space they shared.
“Yeah?” Roman took off his shirt and flung it to the ground, then stretched, a flirtatious move he’d never attempted.
Caleb pushed himself off against the wall and came close. “You’re hard.”
“Mmm, I sure am. You wanna do something about that?”
Jesus, how did he have so much confidence all of a sudden? He was slick with sweat, still panting, yet he acted as if he was the most attractive man on the planet because, somehow, to Caleb, he was. Caleb dragged his finger down Roman’s chest. “What do you want me to do about it, Sir?”
Christ almighty. How was he supposed to resist the power of that word? Something broke free inside him. “Hands against the wall.”
Caleb’s eyes lit up, and he spun around, slapped his hands against the concrete with eagerness, and stuck his ass back. Roman didn’t move, entranced by the surrender, the offering laid bare before him. Then he grabbed Caleb’s thin running shorts with both hands and dragged them down. Oh, wow. The results of his handiwork from a few days before appeared, the red marks not fully faded.
“You like seeing your handprints on my skin, Sir?”
Caleb knew exactly what buttons he was pushing, but Roman couldn’t bring himself to be angry about it. Instead, he slapped Caleb’s right cheek, a fierce smack with his hand. “You’d better not get smart with me, boy, or I’ll show you what marks I can leave on your skin.”
They both froze. Holy shit, where had that come from? It had originated somewhere deep inside him, which scared Roman almost as much as the fact that he meant every word. What the ever-loving fuck was he doing? What had Caleb awakened inside him?
Caleb didn’t say anything, as if he’d realized it too, but watched Roman over his shoulder with concern in his eyes. Roman took a deep breath. “I’m okay,” he said softly. “I don’t know what… I’m okay.”
“That’s all that matters, Sir.”
