24. Between a Rock and Hard Muscle
Between a Rock and Hard Muscle
KYRA
I’ve faced death more times than I have fingers and toes. Teetered on the precipice of fear and faith. Trespassed into a realm of belief and wrestled insanity. But dare I say, nothing has rendered me more speechless than what I’m witnessing now.
The embodiment of desire. Stimulating…Irresistible…Nirvanic.
Alex drops the final layer of his clothing, leaving only black briefs.
Divots in his back define every cut of muscle, guiding my stare to the ‘V’ dipping beneath the thin fabric.
I gasp, trying to look away, but he turns, facing me.
If one more inch was stuffed behind the fitted material, without a doubt, those seams would rip.
Blinking becomes a required thought, same as breathing, and he folds his arms awaiting my turn.
“Is there a problem?” Alex inquires, tilting his head.
I search the furthest regions of my mind to respond. Yet, what manifests will remain inside a steel box, wrapped in chains and smothered in cement. It looks so damn fulfilling–I mean he looks fulfilling.
Noticing the thickened vein going along his…
“Kyra?” He raises a brow, adding an extra jolt to my already thudding heart.
My attention snaps to his face, and I exhale a steady stream of air.
“W–Why are you getting naked? I assumed we were training, not…this.” I stutter a response as my eyes work overtime.
Let’s be honest, I’m not above indulging in a bit of sin when there is a literal work of art standing before me.
But a piece of meat he is not, and I shouldn’t gawk as though I’m famished.
“You misunderstand; we are training,” he announces. Noticing me fidgeting with the strings of my hoodie, Alex tightens his jaw, and I catch the confusion of his squinting leer. “You assume I brought you here to expose myself?”
“Well, if you were me, what would you think? Bringing you to an isolated location and removing my clothes.” I’m nervous as he sweeps over my body. This hoodie becomes an oven, skyrocketing my internal temperature to a sweltering degree.
“This technique helps you understand your magic on a more personal level. Feeling it. I didn’t bring you here with hopes of seducing or sleeping with you. Training does not equate to sexual desires.” Wrinkles form across his forehead as a frown covers his smooth skin.
“And being naked is a requirement? That’s normal here?”
“Yes. Fays enjoy their bodies, flaunting them with pride. But Kyra, I never stated you were getting naked in full. Listen to my words and ask questions accordingly. I’ll always grant you time to ponder before answering. So long as your thoughts are about my statements and nothing more.”
Great, he had to tack that last bit on, didn’t he? It’s bad enough I’ve embarrassed myself assuming his motives are of the typical mindset. Getting laid. I don’t need to be scolded for ensuring they aren’t.
Facing away to hide my expression, I purse my lips, nose scrunching. I know not every guy thinks I’m attractive, nor am I conceited, but somewhere beneath the underlying scum of my past, this fay has me hoping he does. Despite my contradictory behavior in not knowing how to handle this situation.
“Kyra?” His voice has a velvet tone.
“Yeah?”
I fight every emotion trying to escape by not turning. After all, I’ve heard the whispers of females praising his name. Though I try keeping my mind from indulging, here and now feeds into those intrusive thoughts.
“Can you turn around?”
“See, the thing is, this might not be a good idea.”
There are mirrors placed upon each wall of this oversized training room. I ignore the pulsating urge of his command, since in fact, I’m viewing everything he has to offer. But damn it if I’m not tempted to turn since he removed his clothes under his own volition.
Shoeless, his feet patter against the marble floor, and each step closer raises my pulse. Alex places a hand on my shoulder, and I twitch from the touch.
“Do you not trust me?” he asks.
“Define ‘trust.’ This seems like a hell of a lot more than that.”
I fight against my past of being touched unannounced or without permission. Traces of their venom still lingers as I fight to change my thoughts toward this man who has shown nothing but compassion. I’ve since gotten over my past, but I refuse to relive it.
My veins burn from my heated blood, allowing the memories to live rent free in my thoughts, and Alex removes his hand.
“Do you think I’d harm you, or cause anything other than for you to feel okay?”
“I…don’t know.” Closing my eyes, I try grounding myself.
He retracts an exaggerated step. “Face me and voice your concerns. Your troubles. If this is too much, we can try a different method. Though it won’t be as effective, it’s better than nothing.”
A deep breath follows a slow rotation toward his magnetic tone, striking a lick of courage from within. Eyes open, I keep my gaze above his shoulders, and I’m confronted by Alex’s worrisome take .
“You spoke about trust. Meaning you have every intent of proving you’re worthy to receive it?”
“Correct.” I can see his sincerity.
*Sigh* “I don’t know you, but my past wasn’t a kind one. Being unexpectedly touched has a high success rate for triggering a former version of me. Mix this with being asked to remove my clothes…well, you can understand my hesitation.”
My leg shakes, and I find the ceiling more comforting to stare at. Inside this uni-pocket of my hoodie, I can’t contain the build of sweat over my palms nor the tears swelling in my eyes.
“Please, look at me.” An inviting suggestion, but if I do, these tears may fall, so I shake my head, no. “Okay, how about this.” He clears his throat. “You and I share a similar response to being touched. So much so, I’m forced to change my garments after the contact.”
So that’s what happened in Rebecca’s office. He changed his shirt in the hallway after I brushed against him. I knew I wasn’t losing my mind.
“Your past is yours to protect or divulge.” Alex continues. “I’ll never force it from you, despite me wanting to rip any and everyone who had a hand in hurting you, apart.”
Those words are like a gentle hand caressing my cheek and guiding my head down. And I see him through my blurring vision. “Thank you.” My voice is vacant, but he understands the sentiment.
“I touched you against your permission, regardless of my intent, removing you from a sound mind. It’s only fair you’re allowed the same opportunity.”
“Wait what? No, you don’t…”
“Nonsense.” He steps closer, leaving an arm’s length between us. Alex isn’t completely nude, but he might as well be. Those briefs do nothing to hide his blessing. Not to mention how his skin glistens beneath the light as though he moisturizes every minute.
“I-I can’t do that. I’m sorry.” I tumble my thumbs along my knuckles whilst shaking an anxious leg .
“Give me your hand.”
He reaches out, and for a second, I hesitate. Okay, maybe a few seconds, but Alex stands firm against his conviction. So I oblige, and my world turns on its axes from the graze of his fingers against my palms. Prickles of warmth spread like wildfire blazing through a dehydrated forest.
“Your pulse is elevated, matching mine. This is a bit intense. Here, feel it.” Taking a step closer, he maneuvers my hand against his chest. *Thud-thud* *Thud-thud* His heart is a quick and steady beat.
“I’ll make you a deal–a verbal contract.
Anytime you lose sense of who you are, a soul floating away, find me, and I’ll keep you grounded.
We’re both battling our past of relentless demons. I could use some help.”
My lips part, but only a breath passes. Our pulses are in perfect sync, and a heat, much greater than I’ve experienced, ignites a fierce tornado within, knowing he offers me this, not for my aid, but to offer his. Exactly like Rosie.
“Why are you willing to do this for someone you barely know?”
“At this moment, I cannot say.” He releases my hand.
“But, Kyra, I’ve known of you far longer than you of me.
” And with that, I’ve gained a new grounding rod and a puzzle piece.
Not knowing where it fits, it leaves me confused in more ways than one.
“Are you ready to train? We’ll try another method, okay?
” With the tears gone and clarity reinstated, I nod. “Good. Just watch me, then you go.”
Thank you, Rosie, for guiding him my way. You knew I needed this.
Retreating a few paces, he rotates a hand and mumbles what I think is Latin. He is engulfed by a voided sparkle, but it dissipates, and I cough and splutter.
No longer bare, he wears a pair of jeans, ripped at the knees, fitted tee, and combat boots—finished with a pair of fitted, leather gloves. All onyx. A polarity against his waxen skin tone, tinted by a light golden, maple hue.
His midnight hair is out of its confined form, slung over both shoulders, framing those frost gray eyes and sharp cheekbones. Beautiful .
I’m left in disbelief. “Did you just create this?” I gesture up and down. “I thought I alone had creation magic?”
“Not created…summoned. This was already in my closet; I simply brought it here and exchanged it with my surrounding magic. Which was the reason for removing my clothes. It’s a bit hard to feel when I’m already wearing garments.
Though, not impossible after practicing.
” He rubs his hands down the front of his flawlessly fitted shirt.
No matter what he wears, this man is fine. Mix this with his lightless magic, him being understanding, patient, and attentive…well you have a ‘Black Mocktail.’ A drink known for its taste and mysterious nature. The hair and fit body–an added cherry.
“Can I summon things as well, or just create them?”