Chapter 8 LEENA
LEENA
My heart fights against my ribcage, trying to break free and run back to meet Grant. I lean against my door, shutting my eyes tightly as I try to get my body under control.
“Oh my God. Oh my God!” I release a gust of air after each word. “What did I just do?” We had been so close to kissing.
Who am I kidding? I was ready to fuck that man.
The second his skin made contact with mine, I knew it was over for me. Every single time he's been close, it's been a battle to keep myself together.
Grant is absolutely sexy, and I get why anyone would want to be with him. He carries himself with so much authority that I can't help but want so much more.
That touch. I shudder just thinking about his hand on my body. I wanted it to travel. I wanted his fingers to roam every inch of me, inside and outside. The only way to fight the feeling he has stirred up is by flat-out running away.
I hear Grant's unmistakable footsteps stopping outside my door. He's close to it—probably contemplating if it's a good idea to come in.
There's a tense moment where neither of us moves. If he opens the door, then it's over for me. I'm going to kiss him then and there. The air freezes as we wait.
The footsteps suddenly walk away, and I bite my lips in disappointment before sliding down the door. What am I doing?
This damn wolf side. It has to be what's causing these feelings to stir inside me. It hasn't been the same with any alpha or shifter I've met, but maybe Grant is just different.
“I'm going to run mad, I just know it.”
My body slowly begins the journey of adjusting back to normal. It doesn't go all the way, though, and I still feel a lingering sensation.
My legs still shake a little from so much longing, and my nipples are probably going to tear through my shirt soon.
I force myself onto the bed and lie face down, pressing my face against the pillow. My intrusive thoughts kick in, making me scream into the pillow. It's a muffled sound, but I'm pretty sure anyone can hear me.
I've never been a fan of physical affection. It's not the sort of thing I grew up with, nor is it something I've searched for.
Grant’s thanking me kick-started how I felt, and his touch sealed it for me. It was scary that anyone had the power to make me feel the things I just did—with just nearness and a touch.
I'm too restless to stay in bed for long. After about half an hour of lying here, I gather my thoughts before getting up.
Grant still isn't back, which is a good thing. It means he didn't try to hop back into work after eating, or he's probably still in the process of downing what I made for him.
I go next door to his office and try the handle. It opens without any resistance. I'm also anxious about this until I remember my job title, then all the weirdness disappears.
“I'm his assistant,” I remind myself. “I'm allowed to be here.”
The first thing I notice is his scent. Grant has been here for so long that his scent is the most prominent thing in the room. It also isn't a bad thing that the alpha smells amazing.
I find myself taking deep breaths, sucking all the air in the room and storing it in my lungs.
Everything that happened stopped me from getting a good look at the office before. The room looks cozy enough to work in, but too uncomfortable to sleep in.
I'm assuming this is by design, because Grant will likely crash here if he gets the chance.
It's also surprisingly clean, especially considering how much time the alpha spends locked up in here.
Grant is clearly no slouch, but the scattered papers on the desk are the only thing out of place. There are also some arranged in a pile on the floor.
“What sort of pack uses this much paperwork?” The answer to my question flies into my head the second the words leave my lips. “Shit, he runs a law firm.”
I'm a bit upset that Grant hasn't tried to give me any orientation when it comes to his work.
It's easy to forget that the man is busy for a reason, particularly when he cuts me out. I like making his meals and reminding him to eat them, but that's not all my job is.
I sit down in his chair and quickly scan the documents on the desk. I glance at the computer, but that feels like an invasion of privacy, so I stick to the papers instead.
It takes me all of five minutes to neatly sort them. The papers in the corner are a little trickier, but I find my way around this, too.
“Awesome. Now I feel like I'm actually useful.” I linger a little longer, not sure I'm ready to give up Grant's scent yet. After a few minutes of doing absolutely nothing, I leave the office, closing the door behind me.
I haven't seen Grant all day. The last time he was nearby was when he had stopped at my door the day before.
I felt him there. But then, I heard Molly calling him downstairs for breakfast. Thankfully, he went down to eat without knocking. I'm not sure if he tried to check in this morning or not.
I go down to the kitchen and find it empty. My nose may not be as powerful as the other shifters yet, but even I know that Grant isn't currently in the house. It doesn't seem like he's close by at all.
I leave the kitchen and head for the living room. All that space is occupied by just one person—the handyman.
Jackson turns in my direction as soon as I walk in. He offers me an easy smile that I quickly return. “Hey,” he greets. “I haven't seen you around much. Although that's probably my fault. I've been pretty busy for the past few days.”
I wish I had a chance to be busy. I'm dangerously close to being bored.
“What's got you so busy?”
Jackson adjusts his sleeves before answering me. “I work as a handyman in town too, and let's just say, there's an epidemic involving some bad bolts that need replacing.”
“Sounds serious,” I chuckle.
“Yes, ma'am, but not serious enough for me to miss a good workout.”
My ears perk up. “Workout?”
Jackson nods. “Yeah, the gym here is the best one around. If Grant ever opened it up to people in town, I tell ya, we'll have this house full all the time. It's like a hidden treasure.”
Hidden treasure is right. Why didn't he ever tell me about having a gym here?
“Uh, can you lead me to this treasure? I'd love to take a look at it.”
“Of course, right this way.”
We move along the ground floor, and I realize just how much I didn't see on my initial tour.
There are a couple of bedrooms downstairs, which make sense considering the size of the house. However, at the end of the hall, Jackson opens a door that reveals heaven on earth to me.
The gym is fully decked out with all sorts of equipment. The surprising thing is just how much space there is.
If the equipment was moved to the side, a boxing ring could fit into the room. Still, I'm more than happy to settle for one of the two punching bags that are present.
I'm going to live here.
Jackson stretches out his hand like a TV show host. “There you have it,” he says. “It's open all day, every day. What sort of workouts do you like?”
“I love boxing,” I admit. “I don't do a lot of exercise other than that, but boxing is something I enjoyed even before I got turned.”
“Really?”
“Yup,” I nod. “I haven't been able to get into it because I'm afraid I'll hurt someone.”
“I don't box,” he sighs, but I'm pretty sure you can find someone around here willing to spar with you. In the meantime, those punching bags can handle a lot of punishment, so feel free to unleash all your fury on them.”
I chill in response. “You have no idea. Thank you.”
“Sure, I'll leave you to it.”
Jackson walks away, leaving me to explore the gym by myself. My smile is so wide that it's starting to hurt from all this delight.
I picked the perfect day for yoga pants and a tank top.
I walk to one of the exercise mats and lie down on it, still unable to keep the happiness off my face. I give myself a good stretch, testing the limits of my flexibility.
I run through all the poses I know, holding them one after the other. Once this is done, I move to the main attraction: the punching bag.
It's larger than a regular punching bag, which makes sense because shifters are much stronger. These bags are also in reinforced structures and are even attached to the ground by a chain. I pick up some gloves lying around and get to work.
I land a solid right jab on the bag to test it out. It remains sturdy, absorbing the force of my strike well.
“Excellent.”
I do a left-right combo, hearing the rattling of the chains holding the punching bag in place, but that's about all the damage that happens.
I let out a long laugh, feeling free for the first time in a long time. Boxing is something I love, and it feels so good to be able to do it again. It would be great if it were an actual person, but the punching bag is more than enough.
Working up a sweat is pretty easy with how hard I'm hitting. I go hard at a constant pace until I tire myself out. Even then, I still try to get in a few more punches like I'm never going to come to the gym again.
I return to the exercise mats, realizing I didn't carry a towel to help with the sweat. I'm not drenched or anything, but it would be nice to at least wipe the perspiration from my forehead.
I go back to stretching, holding my poses again to loosen up my limbs. This workout session has been very successful. After stretching, I sit with my legs folded and straighten my back before closing my eyes.
Just breathe. In… and out. In… and out.
I try to guide my mind during this meditation, but it travels in no time. I imagine that I'm not alone in the gym. My mind conjures Grant in front of me, concentrating on my movements and giving me pointers.
We go from this to him helping me stretch. His eyes look deep into mine as his body presses against mine, moving my limbs to his will as he stretches me.
His hands slide over me and his sweaty frame fuses with mine as we work up even more sweat together. A moan escapes me. I force myself to snap out of this trance immediately.
When I open my eyes, it feels like I'm still in a trance. I see Grant leaning against the door. The shock makes my heart quicken and it doesn't stop as he walks inside. Everything I had felt a second ago multiplies by a thousand.
I see the lust in his eyes, the longing for me. He scans my body and I smell how much he wants me. Unlike last time, it's clear that neither of us is going to back down.
As the alpha approaches, I brace myself for what's about to be the best time I've had in a very long while.