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“It is?”
“Yeah, no shame in being submitted by someone who is two belts above you, right?” he explains. “I’m not gonna let it happen again though.”
Now he’s the one winking, and I—of course—react like a nervous teenager, by averting my eyes and hoping to God that he doesn’t see the shades of red blossoming on my face.
“Have you always been at this dojo?” he asks, gesturing around the room. We’re not the only people left, but there are only a handful of other people around, most of them still engaged in a strenuous roll.
“I didn’t get started here, but I’ve been coming here for a while,” I tell him. “Today is your first time here?”
He nods. “Heard a lot about that Raymond guy and came here to check him out. I hear he takes on a few private clients, and I wanted to see if he’s as good as they say.”
“He’s very selective.”
That doesn’t seem to impress him at all, and he just shrugs in response. “Doubt he’d say no to me, I can pay.”
I shake my head at his arrogance. “Money isn’t all that matters.”
“It is, in my experience.”
I’m not sure whether he’s trying to impress me, but if he is, it’s not working. On the contrary, it makes me want to get up and leave. This city is full of arrogant alpha dudes like him. Guys who think they own the world and everybody in it, just because they’re sitting on a successful business or an otherwise accumulated mountain of wealth.
His eyes are latched onto me as I get back on my feet, awkwardly balancing around him.
“I have to go,” I announce. “Guess I’ll see you around?”
I’m trying to play it cool, unwilling to let him know how much his presence unravels me. But while I was able to display a level of confidence in my voice, the same doesn’t hold true for my ability to walk straight, and I almost trip when I try to pivot on my toes.
“I guess you will,” he responds, looking up at me with a poised expression.
For a moment, it looks like he wants to say something else, but he closes his mouth before the words can leave his lips.
And he doesn’t try to hold me back when I walk away.
Chapter 4
Chase
I should have said something. Right then and there, I should have stopped her and asked her out. She would have said yes—they always do—and I could have my way with her, without having any limiting rules or clothes between us.
If I’d done that, I wouldn’t be plagued with this ongoing chatter inside my head, telling me to go after the first—and last—girl to ever submit me on the mat.
I can’t stop thinking about her when I leave the training room. Her taunting smile haunts me as I shower, and her coy remarks echo inside my head while I’m getting changed. And that attitude of hers. How much fun it would be to spank that out of her…
My cock rises to attention at the thought of it, and I realize that I have to divert my thoughts to something less enthralling.
Raymond is still around when I’m ready to leave, but instead of walking up to him to ask about his private lessons like I had intended, I find myself glancing at the women’s changing room as I walk toward the front door. She may still be in there or she might be long gone. I’m hoping to see her lingering outside when I push the door open, and I can’t suppress a solemn sigh of disappointment when I don’t see her around.
I consider walking back inside to talk to Raymond as planned but decide that this conversation can wait. I’ll have to return to the dojo anyway if I want another chance with that Madison girl.
As I head toward my car, a gleaming, expensive vehicle catches my eye in the parking lot when someone opens the trunk and the evening sun is reflected on the shiny metal, piercing right into my eyes. A black Bugatti. It stands out among the other cars on this lot, as this is not the kind of neighborhood that’s inhabited by people who can afford a car like that. People like me. I’m a visitor in this neighborhood and was careful not to drive my Maybach when I came here but opted for my much more sensible BMW instead.
My steps slow and I crane my neck to see who is standing behind the car, loading something in the open trunk. I don’t have to wonder for long, as the trunk gets closed just a few moments later, revealing the driver of this magnificent vehicle.
It’s Madison.
She's a sight to behold, her lean and tall figure now wrapped in tight-fitting leggings in a blinding pink and a black off-shoulder shirt that reveals her delicate collarbone on one side.
I pause as I watch her, a mixture of admiration and intrigue dancing in my thoughts. She’s a few yards away and I would either have to call out or run over to get her attention. She’s moving to the driver’s seat with wide and bouncy steps, her long hair now cascading down her back and dancing in the breeze around her shoulders.
