Chapter 8
Arlo
Over the next few weeks, small things begin to appear. A pillow that looks new. An old bedside table with three drawers. A small reading lamp on top of the table. A couple of old paperback spy novels. An old leather jacket—worn away at the elbows and neck, but lined with fleece.
They all appear without fanfare.
With every piece, the office transforms into a sanctuary.
The dark circles under my eyes are disappearing, thanks to regular sleep and food. Mornings become easier to face, and the nights more peaceful.
Starting the day, eating breakfast with Tiernan and talking is my favorite thing.
I like that he never pries. He’ll ask questions, but if it’s something I don’t want to talk about, he never presses.
I’ve told him a little about Derek. That he’s my ex and that it was a bad breakup.
I’m pretty sure he knows there’s more to it, but I don’t want him to feel sorry for me.
Right now, he respects me because I work hard and I do my job well.
I would hate it if that changed. It feels so nice to be treated as if I matter.
Three weeks in, Tiernan offers to teach me some self-defense moves. He teaches a class on it once a week, but it’s mostly women who attend. Every time it’s on the schedule, I make sure I have things to do in the main gym. I’m sure he noticed. He notices everything.
We both agree morning is the best time for him to teach me, so he’s coming in an hour earlier tomorrow. It feels like progress. The thought of seeing Derek still makes my mouth dry, but now there’s the possibility that someday it won’t. That someday I won’t have to hide.
I’m wearing the new gym shorts and t-shirt Tiernan left on the couch yesterday.
He forgot to take off the size sticker on the leg of the shorts, so I know they’re new.
I’m making enough now to at least buy my own clothes if he is going to let me sleep at the gym.
I don’t want to be his charity case, even though he never makes me feel like one.
After getting changed, we head out to the big red mats in the main gym. Tiernan says they’re new. Not that I could tell. They all smell of floor cleaner and sweat to me, but I can ignore that if I get to learn how to defend myself.
Tiernan’s not wearing a shirt, so I take a few minutes to appreciate all his muscly goodness while he gets things set up. Between his chiseled abs and that sexy V-cut thing he’s got going on, I’m in serious trouble. Jesus, I’m going to need a towel for all my drool.
“Ready?”
Ready? Ready for what?
Stop daydreaming.
Right, self-defense.
“Let’s do some stretching first.”
We run through some easy warm-ups while I try to get my libido back under control.
“We can start with some evasive moves. You want to prioritize escape. The best way to handle a physical confrontation is to avoid it if possible.” Tiernan says in his coaching voice. It’s the same one he uses for his self-defense class.
Watching him demonstrate several techniques with the practice dummy he uses in class makes them easy to repeat. I’m able to master the palm strike fairly quickly, but we still practice until my arm aches.
The groin kick is harder. I tend to pull back. It’s only a dummy, but I know how painful a kick in the nuts can be, courtesy of Gary Johnson in the fifth grade. The memory still makes me wince.
“We should work on a few ways to escape if your attacker gets you in a hold of some kind.” Tiernan suggests. “It’s important to remember, even if someone is able to grab you, you have options.”
This is the one thing I’m most interested in learning. I never want to experience that helpless feeling of being held down again. It breaks apart your self-esteem in ways that I can’t even think about right now.
“You okay to do this, Arlo? We don’t have to work on escapes today.”
His penetrating look only hardens my resolve.
“No. This is important. I want to keep going.” He gives me one more questioning look before he sighs.
“Okay. So, I’m going to get behind you and grab you. I want you to drop your weight. It makes your body hard to maneuver, giving you a chance to escape. Particularly if they aren’t expecting it. It feels kind of like going limp, and it can catch them off guard. You ready?”
I nod my agreement, and he moves behind me, standing close but not touching me yet. My skin prickles at the back of my neck, and I can feel the heat from his body against my back. My breathing comes heavier and faster. A strange anticipation slides through me.
“You sure you’re okay, Arlo? I don’t want to scare you.” He steps closer, and his heated breath next to my ear makes my stomach flutter.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” I tell him to distract myself from the sensations his body is creating.
“You won’t.” He assures me.
“Okay, I’m ready.” I tell him, steeling myself against his next move.
The grab comes immediately, and I’m unprepared.
Arms like steel bands circle my body, and I gasp for breath.
His back against mine, his mouth next to the shell of my ear, and the smell of clean sweat and sandalwood send the completely wrong signals to my body, because it does not see Tiernan as a threat. Not even a little.
All I can focus on is the connection between our bodies and the surge of liquid fire dancing through my body, straight to my cock. It firms up in a way that’s going to be painfully obvious as soon as I turn around.
Get it together!
I can’t remember what I’m supposed to do and all I want to do is melt against him. It’s been so long since someone’s held me like this. It’s both arousing and comforting.
“Huh. Maybe this isn’t the day to practice escapes,” Ternan says, his voice rougher than normal. His arms loosen their hold. I almost whimper when he removes them completely, barely stopping myself from chasing after his warmth.
“Let’s take a break.” Tiernan says, voice strained as he steps away from me. I don’t turn around at first; the situation in my shorts is improving, but we aren’t there yet.
It takes a minute, but when I do turn, I see that Tiernan’s also facing the other way.
He does a quick adjustment to his shorts before he turns around to face me, face impassive.
His eyes tell a completely different story, and I’m taken aback.
I wasn’t the only one whose body responded. That’s something I wasn’t expecting.
He reaches for my water bottle, passing it over with his signature stare. I take a drink without protest. He gestures, and we both take a seat on the mat.
“Remember, if someone is trying to hurt you, you don’t owe them anything. Not consideration or compassion. They made their choice, and now you have to make yours.”
“I know.” My heart doesn’t, though, and it’s what got me into the whole “Derek” situation. The damn traitor.
“Sometimes you’ve only got one chance, Arlo. You need to make it count.”
He’s looking at me as if I matter.
Me.
I don’t believe it.
But I really want to.
When I head to the shower once we’re done, there’s a sense of satisfaction. The kind you feel when you know you’ve worked hard and earned it. It’s been years since I’ve felt anything even close.
I strip down, anticipating the delicious feel of hot water. Sliding the curtain aside, I turn the faucet all the way to the left. I’ve had a semi for the last half of the lesson, and it’s all I can think about. Who knew there’d be so much touching involved in a self-defense class. So much touching.
I palm my cock as I step under the spray. No way do I want to go through the day with a boner. I can take care of it quickly. No one’s here yet and Tier’s in his office.
I grab some of my body wash. This won’t take long with as worked up as I’ve been.
I lather up, working my hand down my chest, and by the time I reach my dick, my eyes gently close, and all I see is Tiernan—shirtless, sweaty, touching me. I wrap my hand around myself with one tight squeeze, and I can’t help but let out a small moan.
I imagine sinking to my knees in front of him and taking him into my mouth. The heavy weight of his cock on my tongue. The salty tang of pre-cum. His loud groans as I suck him down into my throat.
I lean back against the tiled shower wall, and it cools my heated skin.
Oh, fuck, this feels good.
I swallow my moan as my hand picks up speed.
“How about tomorrow we--”
I turn and Tiernan halts just inside the doorway.
His eyes widen as we both freeze. We hold each other’s gaze, as if we’re locked in place.
Breath quickening, my hand still clutching my dick, unable to move.
I can see the vein on his neck pulsing as his heart speeds up.
Mine keeps pace as if we’re connected by more than a look.
But I don’t stop stroking myself.
The room is thick with tension, heavy and hungry, but underneath it all lies the promise of something more. His eyes darken as they trace a path down my body, slow and deliberate.
I shiver with the weight of it.
But I don’t ask him to stop.
I don’t cover myself.
I’m exposed. On display for him.
Why is that so fucking hot?
I want him to watch.
His gaze finds my cock, hard and aching, a bead of pre-cum gathering at the tip.
The tension builds until it’s too much, and I slowly stroke myself, just to relieve the pressure.
My thumb slides over my tip, gathering up the moisture for my next downward stroke, and his breath catches, a shudder passing through his body despite his rigid stance.
“So beautiful.” It’s a whisper, barely audible, but I hear it.
My skin is fever-hot from his words and the feel of his eyes.
I don’t hold back my moans this time. They echo through the room, louder than I’d like.
He gasps, his breathing shallow and loud, eyes never moving from my hand around my shaft.
Gripping myself more firmly, I continue to stroke from base to tip, pre-cum smoothing the way for my hand.
His gaze is electric, locking onto my movement instantly, watching each pull with single-minded intensity.
He makes no attempt to hide the obvious, growing bulge of his arousal. Knowing I caused it makes every nerve in my body come alive. I’m burning from the inside out, every hitched breath as he takes me in, pushing me higher.
I want it to last, but it’s all too much. His eyes. His need.
It doesn’t take long.
My balls tighten, and a wave of pleasure almost forces me to my knees. I come so hard I see stars.
“Fuuuuck, Tier!”
Ropes of cum splatter the tile, thick and hot. He can’t look away. His pupils dilate, and his mouth is open. His breath is coming in loud, harsh pants.
We both struggle to get our lungs under control, overwhelmed by everything that happened and everything that didn’t.
His breathing slows, and I see the moment he realizes what’s happened. His face hardens, his fists clench at his sides.
“Arlo… I…I” Tiernan stumbles over his words.
Then he turns abruptly and leaves without a single word.
What the fuck did I just do?
Jerked off in front of my boss. Fuck my life, I’m so screwed.
Why am I like this? What the actual fuck was I thinking?
You were thinking it was hot as hell.
Not helpful!
It takes me a long time to get dressed and leave the locker room.