Page 46 of Gym Junkie


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Simon never went to the bathroom in front of me in nine years. These two men are like chalk and cheese.

“You can come in and hold it for me if you want?” Brock calls out.

“No. I’m good thanks.” I smirk.

Idiot.

I hear the tap turn on as he washes his hands, and then he reappears, wearing only his black briefs. I have to concentrate not to stare.

“We have to call in at my place to get some clothes,” he says as he rubs his eyes.

He really is a beautiful looking man.

“Okay.”

I sit on the sofa and watch as he grabs his jeans and steps into them. He slowly slides the zipper up. It’s hard not to jump up and drag his jeans back off with my teeth.

He then throws his T-shirt over his head, picks up the blankets, and carefully places the cushions back onto the sofa.

“I wish I could say I had a hard night in a good way,” he says dryly.

I smirk.

“But I had a hard night in the worst possible way.” He pretends to kick my sofa. “You piece of shit,” he says to it.

I laugh.

“You ready?” he asks.

I throw my towel and sunscreen into my beach bag. “Yep. I’ll just grab my book.”

“You won’t be needing that. I’m very entertaining. Let’s go.”

We walk out into the hall and he takes my hand in his. I look up at him in question.

“I did my time out.” He eyes me as he strides forward confidently.

I smile and squeeze his hand in mine. “Like a good boy.”

“Don’t push it.” He squeezes my hand back. “Or I’ll show you how good of a boy I’m actually not.”

We get downstairs and walk out across the road. “Where’s your car?” I ask.

“Around the corner.”

We turn the corner and I see his large black Range Rover. Lights flash as he opens it.

“Nice car.” I smile as I get in.

“Yeah, it’s just a car.” He starts the engine. “Where are we going for breakfast?”

“There’s a little café a few blocks from here. Where is your house?” I ask.

“Surry Hills.”

“Oh, that’s close. Just a few blocks away.”

“Yeah, I know. I moved here when I found out where you lived so I could watch you round the clock.”

I frown at him, and he smiles cheekily, flashing me a wink.

“See, the creepy thing is, I have no idea if you are joking or not.”

He picks up my hand and kisses the back of it. “I’ve lived here for two years.”

“Oh.” I feel embarrassed that I just said that out loud.

He casually puts my hand back down to rest on his thigh. I can feel his tight thigh muscle through his jeans, and my arousal awakens. I blow out a breath as I concentrate on not trailing my hand up to his crotch and back over his heavenly, thick thighs.

Cut it out, you sex-craved animal.

We drive for a few minutes and then pull up out the front of a row of swanky terrace houses. “You live here?” I ask.

“Uh-huh.” He parks the car and gets out.

I frown as I stare at the terrace house in front of me. It’s painted a dark charcoal colour with contrasting white shutters. There’s a beautifully kept garden with brass numbers on the gate.

It looks like something out of a home magazine. It’s not where I would expect a bad tempered stripper to live.

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Wow. I didn’t expect this.

He opens the large, timber door, and my mouth drops open. Holy shit, it’s gorgeous. “This is really your house?” I whisper, suddenly feeling embarrassed about the shitty sofa I made him sleep on last night.

“Yeah, I bought it about two years ago. I’ve been renovating ever since.”

He holds his hand out for me to take, and I do. The living room is large, the floors all dark timber and polished. There is a stone fireplace with a big antique rug in front of it, running against the wall. We walk through the living room to a bright, sunny, all-glass style kitchen and dining room.

“Holy shit, Brock, this is amazing.”

“Come upstairs, I’ll show you the rest.”

I smile as I see his pride shine through.

We walk up to the second level and it opens to a large living room with another blue stone open fireplace. Big cushions decorate the floor, with a big leather comfy-looking sofa sitting in the middle. There’s a huge television, too, and I get the feeling this is where he spends a lot of time. He takes me up another set of stairs where the whole top floor is his bedroom.

The walls look like recycled brickwork that have bits of white paint on them. The bed is a king-size, with black velvet coverings. The carpet and furnishings up here are luxurious.

“I just put a bathroom in.” He opens the door to show me a beautiful beige marble tile bathroom with a huge stone bath sitting in the centre.

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