Chapter 10 Lennox
LENNOX
The guests at The Three Bears Retreat were mostly middle-aged, a mix of professionals and retirees, all searching for something—peace, strength, maybe even redemption.
I knew the feeling well. I also knew better than to put them through rigorous routines that would be a liability to the retreat, clauses be damned.
I guided the group through light resistance exercises, demonstrating proper form with resistance bands and light dumbbells. “Engage your core,” I instructed, holding a plank. “Feel the burn in your triceps, your quads. It’s supposed to hurt a little—means it’s working.”
Their groans were a chorus, but I could see the determination in their faces. This was what I loved—the push, the perseverance. It was more than physical; it was mental. You had to want the change to feel it.
I moved through the rows, adjusting a posture here, correcting a grip there. The weight of a dumbbell in my hand, the strain of muscle under tension—it grounded me. Normally.
But today, nothing could keep my mind off Naima.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. Felt her.
The sweet, addictive taste of her sweet pussy on my tongue.
The way her body had opened up to me, unguarded and needy.
How her breath had hitched, her hands pulling my locs as I devoured her clit, pulling the plump into my mouth and making it cum for me.
I shifted, adjusting my stance as heat stirred, threatening to stiffen my dick. I couldn’t afford to get hard out here, surrounded by retirees and soccer moms. Fuck.
I brought the class into a cooldown, guiding them through gentle stretches. My voice stayed calm, but my mind was anything but.
When I’d left her in the kitchen last night, I’d been a mess. Hard as steel, precum dampening my pants. I’d barely made it back to my room before yanking off my clothes and stepping into the shower. I hadn’t turned the water cold. I wanted to feel everything.
Hot steam had billowed around me as I gripped my dick, soap slicking the way. I’d braced one hand against the tile, my other moving in tight, desperate strokes. The image of Naima’s pretty lips, the way she moaned my name, the wet heat of her against my tongue—it all came back to me, vivid and raw.
“Lennox...” I could still hear it, the breathy whisper, the way her thighs trembled around me.
I’d stroked myself harder, faster, the tension winding tight until I spilled hot cum into my own hand, her name a curse and a prayer on my lips.
“Mr. Gold?” A soft voice pulled me back to the present. The strain on the face of Ms. Cunnigham brought me back to reality.
“Apologies,” I said, offering a quick smile. “Let’s start some cool-down exercises.”
I finished the session with a mixture of groans and claps, the guests filtering out with gratitude and goodbyes. I grabbed my water bottle, gulping it down, but it did nothing to cool the heat still simmering beneath my skin.
As I turned to head back to my quarters, I nearly collided with Naima.
She wore a loose soft pink linen dress, the fabric brushing her curves, and a thin gold chain holding a reddish purple almost fuscia crystal pendant hung from her delicate neck.
Her thick hair was pulled up into a messy bun, a few frizzy curls escaping to frame her face.
“Hey,” she said, her voice soft but guarded.
“Hey.” I stepped back, giving her space, though every part of me wanted to close the distance.
“About last night—”
“I don’t regret it.” The words came out quicker than I intended. “I mean... I don’t want you to think I did that lightly.”
Her lips parted, but before she could respond, my phone rang. I pulled it from my pocket, my father’s name flashing across the screen. Shit.
“I have to take this,” I said, hating the way her expression fell. “I’m sorry.”
She nodded before a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes followed. “Of course. I’ll, uh, see you around.”
She slipped past me, her scent lingering—lavender and something sweeter, something purely her. I wanted to reach for her, pull her back, but the phone kept ringing, a sharp, relentless reminder of reality.
I swiped to answer. “Yeah?”
“Two weeks, Lennox.” My father’s voice was a low growl. “You should have a report by now.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Working on it? I sent you there to evaluate, not take a vacation.”
My jaw tightened. “The place needs work. The grounds are well-kept, but the equipment is outdated. They offer great experiences, but the financials might not add up.”
“Might not?” His sigh was a sharp exhale. “I need concrete answers. Are they a viable investment or not?”
I hesitated. The truth was, if my father saw the books, he’d shut this place down in a heartbeat. The Three Bears Retreat wasn’t a cash cow—it was a sanctuary. A place where people healed. Where I was healing, too.
“I need more time,” I said finally.
“Time isn’t something I give freely, son. I want answers. Soon.”
The line went dead, leaving a hollow echo in its wake but instead of worrying about my father, I knew I needed to find Naima. I needed to explain, to make her see that last night had meant something. And then I could begin to figure out what the hell I was going to do about this place.
Because the thought of watching my father tear it apart, of seeing that light dim in Naima’s eyes—it made me feel like the worst kind of asshole.