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“Who?” I bark in return, my heart racing. It’d be nice if he could get to the fucking point.
“The doctor!” he shrieks again, throwing his hands in the air, as if I’m the idiot here.
“What doctor?” He is not making any sense. I clench my fits, waiting to jump into action, still thinking I’ll need to take somebody down.
“YOUR DOCTOR!” Benji yells, looking exasperated, and then it clicks.
My eyes widen as I stare at him, and I try and get my head around this information. My doctor. Catherine Wakeford. Is here? In my gym?
“She is here?” I ask tentatively. There is no way anyone as classy as Catherine Wakeford would be in my gym.
“Yes, she is here for the self-defense class,” he breaths out, now finally able to chill out.
“Fuck.” My heart is now pumping out of my chest as I walk to the window in my office that overlooks the entire gym. Sure enough, I spot her immediately. Looking so sexy, it is dangerous, in matching yoga pants and a crop top, her shiny, thick brown hair pulled back in a bouncy ponytail. She is chatting animatedly to a woman next to her who is dressed in a similar fashion.
They look like they belong in a fucking sports commercial. They are gorgeous. My gaze stays on Catherine, taking her in from top to toe. Her body is as tight and curvy as I have been dreaming about. I’m itching to grab that tiny waist, or that glorious, round and perky ass. Then I get to her smile, and I know I’m fucked. She is beautiful, too fucking beautiful for my gym, that is for sure.
Nico comes up next to me and peers out the window. “Your doctor, huh?” he asks, digging for information that he is not going to get. “I met her in New York a few times. Annie and Dante love her. I’m glad she could help you out the other night.”
I grunt in reply as I watch her, and she must sense it because her eyes rise and catch mine. But I don’t flinch, staring at her openly, drinking her in, tasting her with my eyes, really wishing I was fucking her with my tongue. She looks away when her friend pulls her arm to get ready for the class. Thank fuck I don’t teach the self-defense classes because my dick is so hard right now, I don’t think I could even manage a pose on my own, let alone run a full class.
The new classes are a real hit, and it makes me fucking sad that so many women need protection. But growing up with a mother who had the shit beaten out of her on more than one occasion, it was something I pushed Benji to offer once the gym opened.
Seeing Doc here has my mind racing. It is a popular class, sure, but our members are mostly from disadvantaged backgrounds, those who are in danger of violence at home and an abusive partner. They are not aimed at a sexy as fuck, rich, spoiled doctor, who has every resource at their fingertips and probably doesn’t even need self-defense training because they live in a perfect bubble, surrounded by perfect things and a perfect family.
I stand unmoving at my office windows, my arms crossed across my chest. Nico continues to discuss our plans for the week, as Benji goes back downstairs to look after the gym. Whilst I am listening to Nico, my mind and eyes are on Catherine, and how good her ass looks in those tight fucking pants.
“Are you even fucking listening to me?” Nico barks, and I turn my head and look at him. He is my friend. One of my closest, but on the pecking order, he is much lower than me and he knows it. A fantastic soldier, Sebastian picked him up in Sicily a while ago, and he has settled in well in New York and loves to come and help me with my fights. But speaking to me like that, it’s not how I operate. Sebastian and Dante are the only people on this earth who get away with that behavior, and as I look at Nico, flames coming from my eyes, I see the way his face changes as it dawns on him that he needs to rein in his commentary.
“It’s the doctor, isn't it?” he prods, walking on very fucking thin ice. I squint my eyes at him, waiting for him to dig a whole big enough to not escape from.
“Fine,” he sighs, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m teasing you.” He has the nerve to roll his eyes. “But if you fuck her, you need to tell Dante, because she is still Annie’s doctor and he will not compromise Annie’s health for your sex life.”
“I am not fucking her, and who I fuck is none of your or Dante’s business,” I grit out, furious that he is even talking about Catherine in this way. Why I am so protective of her, I have no fucking idea.
“Fine, but get your head in the game, then. We need you in New York, and you have your fight to concentrate on while you’re down here. You can’t go looking at pretty ladies, who are waaaaay out of your league, getting distracted. That’s how you die.”
10
Catherine
I feel so out of place.
Maggie booked us into this class tonight because I have a few days off, and her husband Brian was available to watch the kids. Walking in, I saw Benji at the front desk, and immediately, my stomach dropped. I just knew that meant Carter had to be close by. Benji didn’t say anything to me as he checked us in. In fact, he looked like he had seen a ghost as I smiled and said hello. But soon after, I watched as he sprinted up some stairs into what looks like an office.
I don’t have to think too hard about who might be up there.
My heart is racing, and my body is sweating, and I haven’t even started the class yet.
“Maggie, I’m not sure…” I start to say to her as we walk farther into the gym.
“Stop. We have been through this. You need to know how to defend yourself and this gym is apparently the best place to come for self-defense training,” she whisper-yells.
“But I think this—” I try to say again, to tell her that I think Carter is here, and maybe a gym owned by the mob is not the best place for us to train. But she doesn’t let me finish.
“Cat.” She stops and stands in front of me. “We are doing this. We are doing this to protect you, to protect Ivy,” she says firmly, determination on her face, and it is like she sucker punched me in the gut. She knows using Ivy in her argument will get me every time.
Taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves. I feel on edge, but I’m willing to make the most of this. As I turn to set my drink bottle on a seat, my skin bristles… it’s him.
