29. Dalton
TWENTY-NINE
DALTON
HIP THRUST ME, DADDY
The clang of metal plates reverberated through the gym as I stepped inside. The sharp tang of rubber mats and chalk hit me immediately, grounding me in the familiar space.
It didn’t take long to find her.
Ari was at the squat rack, a barbell loaded with what looked like twice her body weight resting across her shoulders. Her form was perfect, her legs steady as she lowered herself into a deep squat, the muscles in her thighs and glutes flexing with the movement. My mouth went dry. She stood, her back to me, completely focused on her set.
She hadn’t noticed me yet, which gave me a moment to take her in.
She wore those damn leggings again. The ones that should’ve been illegal for how well they fit her, paired with a sports bra that showed off the curve of her shoulders and the definition in her arms.
I had no right to be staring, but fuck if I could stop. Watching her in her element, strong and unshakable, did things to me.
“You were supposed to meet me in the garage.” My voice echoed in the mostly empty gym, making her freeze mid-rep.
She racked the barbell with a clang, then turned, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. “I needed to blow off some steam,” she said, her voice breathless but steady.
I raised a brow, crossing my arms as I leaned against the nearest machine. “So, you ditched me for squats?”
“I didn’t ditch you. I just prioritized my mental health. Squats pair well with therapy.”
There was a thread of something vulnerable beneath the teasing tone, and I wanted to know what it was that was bothering her. But that would require a careful approach.
“Fine,” I said, pushing off the machine and moving closer. “But if you’re going to make me wait, at least make it worth my while. Show me what you’ve got.”
“Careful what you ask for.” She gestured toward the bench and the loaded barbell nearby. “I was about to do hip thrusts.”
Of course she was.
As if I hadn’t already been struggling to keep my thoughts from going south.
“You’re trying to kill me.”
Her grin widened as she slid to the floor. “You’re the one who wanted to watch. Don’t blame me if you can’t handle it.”
I couldn’t even respond. My brain short-circuited as she rolled the bar toward her, positioning it across her hips. Her movements were precise and deliberate. Fuck, she was fully aware of how much power she held in every inch of her body. With her feet braced, she drove her hips upward, the barbell rising with her as her glutes contracted at the top.
My jaw clenched as I tried to tamp down how my body reacted to seeing her. Because as much as I enjoyed the view, I knew something was on her mind, and my cock tenting in my tiny shorts didn’t help relay the message that I wanted to be there for her.
“You okay?” I asked, leaning against the rack as she set the bar down after another handful of reps.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, avoiding my gaze.
“Bullshit.” Her head snapped up, mouth parted in shock that I’d called her out. “When I’m blowing off steam this hard, something’s usually up.”
“Well, we’re not the same person,” she threw back, but there wasn’t much heat on the words.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
She hesitated, her fingers tightening slightly on the bar. “Your dad stopped by earlier,” she finally admitted. “To introduce himself.”
My brows knit together. That wasn’t totally unusual. He was the team owner, and they were bound to meet eventually, but there was something in her voice that I couldn’t quite place. “How did it go?”
She broke eye contact, staring at her white Chuck Taylors. “Fine. He said he’s looking forward to Media Day. ”
I was smart enough to know that ‘fine’ was not-so-secret code for not fucking good. “What else did he say?” I pressed, pushing off the rack to move closer.
She shrugged, but the movement was stiff. “Nothing too surprising. Mostly that he’s excited to see how we handle ourselves for the cameras.” She hesitated before adding, “He also told me how great Emma was. How well-loved you two were by the public eye.”
Her words hit like a gut punch, and my jaw tightened. “He said that to you?”
“And I quote, ‘She was perfect for him.’”
A bitter laugh escaped me. “Like he was even around enough to know,” I muttered, the resentment bubbling to the surface. His praise of Emma was another reminder of how little he truly understood me.
Ari shifted, her gaze flicking to mine. “Sorry I’ll never sit in the stands and wear your jersey. I’m sure that bothers you. I mean, you even tried to make it one of our rules?—”
“Stop.” I crouched in front of her, one hand bracing on the bench while the other tipped her chin to face me. Her eyes widened slightly, and I softened my tone.
“I’m sorry he did that to you. But listen to me.” I cupped her face, needing to touch her. “Emma wasn’t perfect for me. Not even close. She didn’t support me. She supported the idea of what being with me gave her. The money, the attention, the title of being a WAG.” I slid my thumb across her cheek, the roughness of the pad contrasting against her soft skin. “You don’t give a shit about any of that. You’re there for me in ways that actually matter. You push me to be better, you call me out when I need it, and…” Swallowing hard, I forced myself to say it. “I know you like me for me. Not the player, not the paycheck. Just me. He was right. You’re nothing like her, and that’s my favorite part. Understand?”
Her lips parted slightly, her expression faltering as she nodded her head.
“I’ve met Emma, and there’s no way I feel the need to try and compete with her.”
I smirked, recognizing her tactic to avoid talking about emotions, but deciding to let her have it—for now. “Good. Because if anyone should be trying to live up to someone, it’s the other way around.”
I stood, offering her a hand. She let me pull her to her feet.
“Thanks, Dalton,” she said, her eyes saying more than her lips were. Now I was the one running from the emotions hanging in the air. I pulled my gaze away. “Alright, now it’s my turn to work off some steam,” I said, dropping to the floor and moving to where she’d just vacated. Because even though I was smiling at her, I was fucking pissed to hear my dad had cornered her in her office and decided to talk about how great my ex supposedly was.
“You going to just stand there or load more weight on the bar?” I taunted, drinking her in from where she stood above me.
God, she was mesmerizing. Sweat glistened on her well-muscled body. She’d put in years of discipline, and it showed, but the sexiest part wasn't how she looked. It was what she could do with that damn body. How strong and resilient she was, both mentally and physically .
She was as much of an athlete as I was.
“You want more, Dalt?” Her voice broke me from my drool session over her toned hamstrings.
As a response, I hip thrust a rep with my hands behind my head. “Give it to me, Sunshine.”
My dick hardened at her tongue swiping along her full bottom lip.
That’s going to feel great against the metal bar.
Instead of walking toward the rack of bumper plates, she moved in closer. I forgot how to breathe when she swung her leg over, positioning herself so she was straddling my body, ass sitting on the padded part of the bar—right above my cock.
Calloused hands landed on my shoulder, coconut invading my senses. She would manage to smell delicious even while working out.
“There’s some more weight on the bar for you. Think you can hip thrust me?”
I reached up and turned my hat around because there was no way my mouth wouldn’t find its way to her body. I’d been dreaming about it since that night in Betty, and then sleeping across the hall from her had been torture, but I hadn’t wanted to push too far. I’d be damned if my hat was going to cock block me now that all the walls were coming down.
“How many thrusts do you want, Coach?” I asked already moving.
The top of the movement put her chest in perfect alignment with my mouth, and the sweat running in the valley of her breasts called to me like a siren’s song. I was moving before I could think better of it. Saltiness coated my tongue as I licked up her chest, starting slightly below where her sports bra covered.
The gasp of surprise, followed by a breathy drop of my name, only fueled me. She was going to leave marks with how tightly she gripped my shoulders, but I didn’t give a shit. Every rep I licked and kissed at a new section of her body, too far gone to put the breaks on the runaway train that was my libido.
Eight reps came and went too quickly, but I didn’t care. I was ready to burn my fucking legs out just to keep tasting her.
“You’ve gotta stop, Dalton. You’re going to injure yourself,” she pleaded, sounding as disappointed as I felt.
I set her and the bar down, before pulling her into my lap.
“Look how wild you drive me, Sunshine,” I breathed, pushing her down on the obvious bulge. Living for the moan she let out as her eyelids fluttered closed.
So much for not scaring her away, but I was too worked up not to show her the truth.
My hand slid to her waist, gripping her like she might disappear if I let go. Her long locks grazed my legs as she tipped her head back, letting out a soft “fuck.” The sight of her pulse pounding in her throat made me lose my mind.
Every curve of her body fit against mine like she was made for me.
“Dalton,” she whispered, her voice laced with want. “I?—”
The sound of the gym door slamming open shattered the moment. We were being edged by the Universe.
“Hey, Cap,” Jimenez’s booming voice echoed through the room, followed by the distinctive shuffle of feet on the rubber flooring. “You left your keys in—oh, shit.”
Ari and I sprang apart, scrambling to stand. Her face turned crimson, her hand flying to smooth her hair, like that would erase the evidence of what had almost happened. I took a step back, trying to get my breathing under control while sending my best friend a death glare, promising a beat-down on the ice next practice.
Jimenez froze mid-step, keys dangling from his hand and his mouth agape as he looked between us.
“Whoa. Didn’t mean to interrupt…whatever y’all were doing.”
“Yeah, no shit,” I growled. “What the hell? Don’t you knock?”
“In a gym?” he shot back, clearly trying not to laugh. “Sorry, didn’t realize this was a private session.”
Ari groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Oh my god. I need to leave. Immediately.”
“No one’s leaving,” I said firmly, pointing a finger at Jimenez. “Except him.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender, his grin unapologetic. “Relax, man. I was just dropping off your keys. But hey, good for you, Coach. Didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Out,” I barked.
He winked at Ari on his way out, earning him another murderous glare from me. “Later, lovebirds.”
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the two of us in awkward silence. I turned to Ari, who was now pacing in a small circle, her face still bright red. I desperately wanted to pick up from where we’d left off, but I could see by her panic that the moment had passed. Again.
“I can’t believe that just happened,” she said, her voice muffled by her hands. “I’m going to die. Right here. Please bury me under the squat rack.”
“Darlin’,” I said gently, stepping in front of her and prying her hands away from her face. “Hey, it’s fine. Jimenez is an idiot, but he’s harmless.”
Her eyes met mine, still wide with embarrassment. “He’s never going to let this go, is he?”
A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Not a fucking chance. But I will kill him if he says anything to anyone.”
That earned me a small laugh, and I felt some of the tension ease. “Can I help?”
“Of course.” I tapped on her temple. “We’re going to need all that murder show knowledge you’ve got up there.”
She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth were tipped up in a smile. “You’re lucky you’re cute. Otherwise, I’d be halfway out of here by now.”
I chuckled, relieved to see her mood lifting. “You’re not going anywhere but into the passenger seat of my car.”
Picking up our bags, I led her out of the gym, my hand at the small of her back, as I tried like hell to ignore the worst fucking case of blue balls I’d ever experienced.