Cheater

11. Chloe

Friday Night

Exercise is kicking my ass. It’s been way too long. I’m in a pitiful, breathless state as I turn the incline and speed back down two notches on the treadmill, doing it painfully aware of the fact I’m nowhere near ready for anything more than a brisk pace. I’ve already spent time on the elliptical machine and on some weight and resistance training and feel like I’m about ready for some ibuprofen and a nap.

Something catches my eye as I reach for my water bottle and now I’m taking in the shocking vision of a shirtless, shiny, Derek Steele who is doing bicep curls with his eyes on me. As our gazes connect, I stumble, crash to my knees, and of course the conveyer belt sends me backwards until I wind up flat on my back, on the floor.

My eyes are closed tight, but the place is busy so I’m sure there are multiple sets of eyes on me. Could I just lie here on the floor behind the running treadmill, until everyone leaves?

Sadly, not.

Must open eyes and covertly get out of here, avoiding the urge to do it on all fours pretending no one sees me. Pretending Derek Steele didn’t just watch my treadmill fail which I will probably see later on in a compilation on TikTok or YouTube.

What are the odds of him being here tonight?

Granted, I haven’t been here in over half a year, but this isn’t the only gym in the city. This is definitely not another coincidence.

I open my eyes, expecting a view of the rafters and lord have mercy, Derek is standing over me, looking down at me, with his hand extended to help me to my feet.

I shakily accept it and one of his muscled arms goes around my waist as I get to my feet. Now we’re face-to-face and far too close.

“Hurt?” he asks, concern etched into his features.

“Just my pride,” I whisper.

His lips slowly split into that very nice smile of his as he looks me over. I look him over, too, which provides an added benefit of me not looking anywhere else to see who might be gawking slash laughing at me.

“Muscles. So many muscles.”

He’s laughing and I realize I’ve just whispered about the muscles aloud.

It’s true, though.

Gorgeous shoulders. Neck. Chest. Abs of steel. And his skin is all shiny from sweat. He’s strong. Muscled. But not steroid level. And his skin tone is a beautiful golden color. Tan. But not fake-tanned.

And he’s still holding my hand. He’s still got an arm around me.

“You done, miss?” An elderly lady with purple hair, in full makeup along with a headband around her head asks and then cracks her gum.

“Oh yeah, I think I’m beyond done. One second.” I take the opportunity to move out of his orbit, grab a sanitizing cloth, wipe down the machine and grab my stuff.

“Sure you’re all right?” Derek asks, following me.

I drop the cleaner and cloth on the ledge by the changerooms. “I’m fine,” I say, failing to hide my embarrassment. “Stuff like this happens to me all the time. I’m like a cartoon character or something. Bye.” I escape into the locker room out of his view.

When I’m done showering and changing, I’m unsurprised to see him sitting in the lobby on a bench, eyes on me as soon as I emerge. Of course he’s waiting for me.

“Fancy meeting you again,” I say with sarcasm. “If I didn’t know better I might think you’re stalking me.”

“And you know better, do you?” he asks, a wicked gleam in his eyes that is not only a little dangerous, it’s also a lot hot.

“How long have you been a member of this gym?” I ask, a hand propped on my waist. I know my stance oozes accusation.

“Just joined,” he says, shamelessly smirking.

I tilt my head. “Coincidence? I just re-joined last night after leaving the soup place.”

He continues smiling.

My eyebrows go up. Of course he knows that somehow. Did he follow me?

“Confession?” he asks.

I wait, braced.

“I’m gonna be making Columbus home base for a while. Saw you walk over here from the soup joint last night and… lightbulb went off.”

“Uh huh,” I nod sagely, “So, Derek… I don’t typically like to make assumptions, but I’m thinking my assumption here about you is probably not far off.”

“Probably not,” he returns, then casually sips from the water bottle in his hand. I watch him twist the cap back on and then he volleys with, “Just like my assumption probably ain’t wrong either. That you ducked out of the coffee shop pretending something came up because you were uncomfortable with the chemistry between us.”

“I’m engaged,” I state. “Though I know I’ve made this fact clear to you directly more than once as well as to someone else in front of you another time, so…” I give him a pointed look.

“How’s the book so far?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t dug in.”

“Have a drink with me, Chloe.”

I blink, taken back. “A drink?”

He rises and takes a step forward, putting us toe to toe. I look up at his face. He’s so close I can smell his soap on his freshly showered skin. So close he’s all I see.

This feels dangerous. Wrong. And yet … something else. Something I’m not sure I have the capacity to acknowledge fully.

“I’m not sure I’m in a state to be seen outside a gym,” I say self-consciously instead of doing what I should do. Walk away without responding.

My hair is wet, I have no makeup on my face. I’m in jeans and a plain tee.

He smiles. “I disagree.” He touches a tendril of hair that’s hanging over my ear. “But we don’t have to be in public if you’re not comfortable with it. We can have a drink at my place instead.”

I blink a couple times and then I shake my head. “I can’t. I… I’m-”

“Engaged. I know.”

“You know but you just don’t care?” I ask.

“There’s something here.” He gestures between us. “I think we both know it. And I want to explore it.”

“Meaning?” I ask.

“Meaning, come for a drink with me, Chloe,” he says, dark eyes searching mine.

I’m against the wall beside the locker room door and he’s close enough to kiss, if I get up on my tippy toes and lean forward just an inch.

“Not your place. Somewhere public,” I amend.

He smiles wider. “One of my clubs isn’t far. You know The Fifth?”

I nod.

“I’ll follow you there,” he tells me.

I nod again.

“Yeah?” he checks, like he doesn’t quite believe I’m agreeing.

“One drink. No promises of anything beyond that.”

He jerks his head toward the exit, so I move in that direction.

He gets to the door first and holds it open, gesturing for me to go ahead.

Heart pounding hard in my chest, I walk ahead of him. After I hit the button to get my car unlocked, he gets ahead of me to open the driver’s door. I climb inside. He looks dead into my eyes and something… that something he spoke of that’s between us, it pulses. Throbs. My heart is racing.

Derek skims his bottom lip with his front teeth and shuts my door.

I pull into a spot outside The Fifth; I’ve been here before. Twice, I think. I remember it as fairly dim, with plenty of high-backed booths. Should be a safer bet for discretion, though that’s never a guarantee in public.

Derek pulls up beside my six-year-old Jeep Cherokee with his swanky new-looking Mercedes SUV. He crooks his finger and then drives past me, so I follow him around to the opposite side of the parking lot. He stops in a reserved spot outside an entrance to the office building part of this location. This is another office building with a nightclub on the ground floor like last Friday’s spot.

I pull into the reserved spot beside him. By the time I turn my car off, he’s outside my door, opening it for me.

I’m not dressed for a club like The Fifth, being make-up free, damp-haired, and in jeans and a basic T-shirt with slip-on sneakers.

Despite this, it’s obvious by the carnal look on Derek’s face that he’s attracted to me anyway.

He’d look attractive if he, too, looked like he just came from the gym. But he doesn’t. While his dark hair is damp, he still looks amazing. He’s clean-shaven, in nice jeans, the same leather jacket he had on last night, and a snug wine-colored Henley hoodie that I’m sure will show off his defined upper body under that jacket. He takes my hand and pulls it to his mouth, touching his lips to my knuckles. “The club’s that way.” He points across the parking lot, still holding my hand. “My place is this way.” He points to the door in front of us. “Which way are we going, Chloe?”

I’m taken aback by the kiss on my hand, by the way my hand feels in his. By his eyes on my face. By all of it.

While holding my breath, my feet move us toward the closest door. The door to his place.

His free hand moves to the small of my back the way it did in his nightclub a week ago, and then he lets go to reach ahead to touch a door sensor with his thumb. I hear it unlock, and then he opens and holds it for me. When I’m over the threshold, his hand lands on my lower back again. And I can’t stop my mind from focusing on the feel of his hand on the back of my jacket, wondering what it would feel like to have his hand on my bare skin again.

He grabs my hand again as we move down the long, swanky cream-colored marble-walled shiny-floored hallway toward an elevator. This entrance is obviously private. There were no other cars in any of the reserved spots that bordered the entrance, so I take it this is the building his father is re-purposing, and that Derek’s siblings are currently absent. The elevator is waiting, so Derek walks us in and presses the PH button on the panel. We take an express ride up with our hands still clasped together. And my heart is pounding hard.

Am I really about to do this? Am I really about to use the hall pass? It feels illicit. It feels like I’m a cheater. But Adam has been encouraging this.

Should I tell this insanely hot man why I’m doing this despite the diamond on my finger?

He’s a rich, insanely attractive man. But I don’t know the protocol for this sort of situation. Do I bring it up? Do I assume it’s understood?

My eyes are fixed on the elevator lights showing our ascent above the door, but I’m pretty sure his are on me.

Shit. Does he have condoms? Of course he’d have condoms. He’s a rich, attractive man.

Does he have a girlfriend? A fiancée? A wife?

Why didn’t I do a quick internet search on him?

I know why I didn’t. Because despite the fact that he’s crossed my mind plenty in the past week, I never expected this to happen so there was no point looking him up. I also didn’t want to become fixated on the idea of hooking up with him so of course I pushed him out of my mind every time I thought of him, which was more often than I’d care to admit. Except that time when I was in the shower and indulged a fantasy while I took care of my… ahem…needs.

The elevator halts and when the door opens, something ignites in my veins. His too, I think, because now he’s powerwalking and I’m jogging to keep up until we get to the second-to-last door on the left side of the elevator in a hallway that looks the same as the one on the ground floor. He puts his thumb to another sensor on this door and when I hear the click of the door it feels as ominous to me as the sound of a gun being cocked. Not that I’ve ever heard one of those in real life.

And another thought surfaces, too. The fact that it doesn’t matter if I go home tonight or not. Adam is spending the weekend at his brother’s place. I know he’s done it on purpose. He did kiss me before he left at four o’clock this afternoon, kissed me the same way he kissed me in front of everyone last Sunday, which probably wasn’t supposed to feel like being stabbed in the heart, but it did because he did it in front of his brother. I didn’t even fake a smile as Paul wheeled him out the front door toward his van.

I decide here and now that I won’t be thinking about Adam at all for the rest of whatever time I’m here in Derek’s penthouse apartment. I’m only here because Adam pushed this. And if I’m honest with myself, maybe I do want this, too. Because this man right here is the ultimate Hall Pass type. If I’m going to actually do this, why shouldn’t it be with an insanely attractive man who has put effort into pursuing me?

He opens the door and gestures for me to go ahead.

I take four or five steps into the dim, large, open-concept space that feels like a swanky hotel suite. There’s a great view from up here and the full-length windows show off that the sky is dappled with city lights. There’s a lamp lit in the corner beside a white leather sectional couch. I take in a large wall-mounted television, some monochrome art on the walls, the modern, spotless kitchen done in black, white, and chrome. There’s a glass dining table for four with tall black and silver chairs. The only splash of color in the space beyond the jewel-toned kitchen backsplash is a vase of colorful flowers in the middle of the table.

I hear the door click shut behind me, so I look over my shoulder. Derek is leaning against the door, hand still on the knob, eyes on me, and he’s sucking on his bottom lip.

As he releases his lip, he releases the doorknob too before reaching out and grabbing my hand. He tugs, pulling me to his body.

My eyes bulge as I absorb his body heat.

“Give me permission to make your fantasies come true,” he requests gruffly, looking down into my eyes.

I blink twice. “Fantasies?”

His hand slides across my jaw, his thumb grazing my cheekbone. “You could tell me what you want tonight or…” He pauses both in motion and in talking and smiles, “you can leave it to me and fulfill my fantasies instead. Choice is yours. Tell me which way you want it.”

My stunned silence lasts what feels like a long minute before his other hand snakes down and he grips my behind as he pulls me tight to his body, his erection pressing against my stomach.

“Maybe we oughta talk. I should tell you that I don’t usually–”

His hand on my jaw moves to cup my mouth, stopping me from speaking.

And while my heart skips three beats, my panties are flooded.

“Do you feel how much I want you?” he asks, placing my hand on his erection.

My eyes take in his face, the dark and carnal expression in his eyes. And with where my hand is, what I feel there, the thrill racing through me is something new, something potent.

I feel strange. Foreign. Alive. I haven’t felt this level of alive before. Because it’s supposed to be forbidden, maybe? I shove that thought away. Because I have an actual license to do this tonight.

“Your fantasies or mine?” the gorgeous man who wants me asks, keeping one hand firmly on mine while flexing his hips. “That’s all we need to discuss right now. Be in this moment with me Chloe. Here. Now. Everything else can wait. What do you want? What you want or what I want? Whose fantasies? The choice is yours.”

He moves his hand away from my mouth.

I swallow and say something I’ve never dreamed I’d ever get to actually say out loud.

“Do I get a safe word if I pick your fantasies?”

His eyes light up and he grabs my jaw with both hands, mouth descending on mine.

Electricity races through my veins as he kisses me hungrily. And I show my hunger, too. Starving. Fucking starving like he would not believe.

Months of pent-up sexual frustration are unbridled. Maybe even years of it. While he’s kissing me, I pull his leather jacket off and toss it, then my hands dive under the back of his soft Henley and the feel of his muscular, hot back nearly undoes me. I might come before he even gets me undressed.

The shirt goes up over his head with both of our help and he tosses it as I reach for his belt, getting it undone as he kicks off his shoes. He’s lifting me at my waist. My legs wrap around him and we’re going right, down a hall with a few closed doors, through the open one that’s got a light on. Our eyes are locked the entire short journey until I’m put down on the black, white, and silver comforter.

We lose eye contact as he pulls my slip-on sneakers off and then his eyes are locked with mine again as he climbs up to hover over me. As soon as he’s within reach, I’m grabbing for his jaw with both hands, so that he’ll kiss me again, so that I can kiss him back while feeling his weight on top of me, pressing me to his bed.

A hundred thoughts flutter through my mind. None of them are stop signs or red lights. Everything is green. Everything in me says yes. No, shouts it. Yes!

This sexy man wants me. This incredibly attractive man is a hundred per cent focused on me right now. And it feels exhilarating.

“Mine? My fantasies? Wanna ask you once more. Be sure.” He asks this against my lips while undoing my fly with his right hand.

My fantasies or his? I’m beyond interested in knowing what his are. And maybe that’s dangerous given that I don’t know him, but I’m in the moment.

“Yes, your fantasies, Derek,” I say while nodding enthusiastically.

He groans with what looks like supreme pleasure. “I was hoping you’d pick this option.”

“Do I need a safe word?” I ask again.

He caresses my face gently, with what feels like affection in his expression. “No, my little bunny rabbit. I’ll keep you safe at all costs.” He drops a kiss on my mouth, then adds, “Guess what?”

“What?” I whisper breathlessly. My chest heaves up and down like I’ve run a marathon. My panties are drenched. I’m about ready to come out of my skin, I’m that turned on.

And the look in his eyes excites me. Because not only is it carnal, it’s also playful.

“My fantasies about you are wide and varied and include giving you the hottest night of your life tonight. Ready?”

“You have no idea how ready I am,” I say. “But Derek–”

“We can talk later,” he cuts me off. “I know what you want to talk about but I’m asking you to table it for now. Okay?”

I hesitantly nod because his eyes seem full of understanding, somehow.

He continues. “I’m clean and healthy. Tested three days ago and got results already. Haven’t been with anyone in a few months. And you’ll be safe. I won’t harm you. Okay?”

Relief floods my veins. I believe him.

“I’m clean, too. And I’m on birth control,” I say.

“That’s all we gotta talk about this minute. Yeah?”

I nod hesitantly.

“Nervous? I’ll take good care of you, Chloe. I promise. You want to message a friend and tell them where you are? Or have you already done that?”

The offer gives me a reality check that I hadn’t even thought about. I should have done that on the way here. I’m smarter than this. I need to remember that. Despite how insanely hot this man is, I can’t let it make me stupid.

I nod, ignoring the little voice telling me to decline his offer so we can get to the good part sooner, because it’s an offer I should absolutely take.

“Right back,” he says.

I stare at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath, hoping he gets back here before common sense returns. Or guilt. Without looking at it, I slip my engagement ring off my finger.

He’s back with my purse. I sit up and covertly drop it in there as I pull out my phone.

I send a text to Alannah.

Safety check-in. Hall Pass getting cashed in - in T minus 1 minute. Derek Steele. Don’t swoon but I’m at his penthouse condo in the building the 5th nightclub is in right now. Message you later. Don’t make my phone beep for the next 2 hours at least. Love you. Xoxo

The message zooms through cyberspace and instantly I see that it’s been delivered, so I slip my phone back into my bag and put the bag on the bench at the end of the bed.

“You need a drink?” he asks.

I swallow and shake my head. I don’t need a drink. What I need right now is this man’s tongue in my mouth, his hands on my body, and for his penis to pound me into this very comfortable mattress.

At that thought of being filled after so much emptiness for so long, everything south of my waist reacts. And my breasts feel heavy. If I weren’t on birth control, I’m sure I’d drop an egg.

He climbs up from the bottom of the bed again as I recline. As I’m seeing is the norm with Derek, our eyes are again locked. Eye contact during sex is rare in my experience. And I feel like it should be a requirement, because it is sizzling hot.

His eyelids lower as his mouth gets to mine. Mine close, too, and I’m avidly participating in the kiss. It’s an eager kiss that’s deep and passionate, with his hands roaming my face, my jaw, my shoulders. And then he’s got the hem of my shirt and it’s being peeled up and off. He’s down to unbuttoned jeans and I’m down to my bra and jeans when his focus goes back to my fly.

The floor lamp in the corner seems to be staying on. I find I’m okay with that, with seeing what’s about to happen in addition to feeling it.

He stands beside the bed and my jeans are shimmied off and my socks are gone before he’s moving between my parted thighs, dropping a kiss on my knee. I jerk with surprise and excitement. His eyes light with amusement as his hand glides up my torso, stopping to caress my throat and then resumes the journey as fingers glide through my hair. It feels great. His eyes on my skin feel amazing. Suddenly he’s over me, but moving back down, kissing his way down my shoulder, then his lips land on the top of my left breast.

The cup of my pink lace bra is savagely ripped down so he can take a pull on my nipple. I hear the fabric strain and am surprised it hasn’t ripped. I let out a breathy sound as my back arches.

Derek works his way down my body, lips pressing to the skin of my ribs, then my stomach as his fingers hook into the waistband of my underwear. My heart picks up pace yet again as the black Spandex slides down my legs.

I feel a little spinny with arousal, so I pull in a deep breath and close my eyes, exhaling slowly while absorbing the way Derek’s mouth feels as it touches down between my legs in a gentle kiss. My legs are lifted and thrown over his broad shoulders a little roughly and I squeak in surprise.

I’m glad I just took a shower. I’m also glad I didn’t give up on lady-scaping like I was tempted to do with lack of attention to my nude body lately. Many baby unicorns have sadly vanished as they do when a woman goes to the trouble of lady-scaping and then getting zero action. Or so me and my friends say. Not today. Today, thanks to this hot man, baby unicorns get to thrive.

He thrusts his tongue into me while suckling my clit and yes - good Lord, I’m in heaven. It feels amazing, and I’m dying to watch, so I get up on my elbows and it looks like he’s devouring his favorite meal. It’s insanely hot to watch a man give you head and see that he’s enjoying what he’s doing.

I should feel shy, apprehensive about this perfect stranger having his perfectly sinful mouth between my legs, but instead, this feels like the most exciting thing to happen to me… maybe ever.

Derek’s gaze moves back up to mine and he winks. I smile and reach down, my fingers weaving into his dark, thick, still slightly damp hair. He takes a hard pull on my clit and then rams what feels like more than one finger into me and crooks it, hitting my g-spot. I jolt.

He does it again, applying suction to my clit and it makes me cry out.

I cover my mouth.

Hot damn, he knows what he’s doing.

Derek looks up and says, “Let it fly, baby. Don’t muffle your sounds. I’m earning those right now and believe me when I tell you I wanna hear them.”

Okay, but this is about to be embarrassing. Because I’m going to come in about thirty more seconds if he keeps this up.

He’s fingering me like a pro while working my clit with his mouth and then his free hand snakes up and pinches my nipple to the point of pain. But because of everything happening to me right now, I don’t complain, instead I detonate, crying out “Omigod!” as my head slams back onto the pillow. It’s the only part of my body touching the bed as Derek has the rest of me in the air, my trembling legs still draped over his shoulders. This feels so incredible, I could fly straight into the sun or the sea without a care in the world.

While I’m still lost in sensation, spiraling upwards to some heavenly plane, crying out shamelessly, filled with his expert tongue and fingers, at least some of his attention turns to a hole that has not ever gotten attention from anybody. A digit – his thumb, I think – slips in the back door just a little. And I fly to a sitting position, grabbing his shoulders. He freezes and looks at me. His thumb is still in there and I think he’s assessing my expression to see if I want him to stop.

I don’t.

His mouth crashes into mine, his thumb vacates anyway, but I can’t complain because he’s falling on top of me, so my legs instinctively wrap tight around his thighs to help guide a hard and impressive part of him inside me. But he adds strength to it and slams his hips forward to hit the end of me before I’m entirely prone.

God, yes.

And it feels incredible. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed this so much. He’s well-endowed and he knows how to move. Not just that, there’s still eye contact. It’s like he’s not just fucking some random chick. Derek is fucking me. Me. He’s looking at me like he’s got every intention of making all of my fantasies come true.

This is good sex. This is great sex. This absolutely is the hottest night of my life.