Chapter 32
Chapter thirty-two
Ivan
I love the New Year’s Eve bodybuilding event at Harley’s. It’s the only competition I truly enjoy. The place is always bursting with positivity and pride. The athletes are full of excitement for the upcoming contest as well as merriment due to the time of year.
After the prizes are awarded, we let loose and everyone hits the dance floor, then drinks their body weight in beer. All dieting rules are off for one night only.
Amy and I walk into the competition suite together. She drops my hand as we enter the reception area. A small sting hits my chest at the loss of contact, an empty patch of skin cooling where her fingers were.
“There’s Trey,” she says as she points to our mutual friend standing beside the stage.
He looks up, his face breaking into a huge grin when he sees Amy. Then his eyes move to me, and he frowns like he’s assessing the situation. His jaw tightens. He’s putting the pieces together, and I’m going to get some shit for this. I know it.
“Let’s go catch up with him,” Amy suggests.
I follow behind her like a lapdog as she skips between the seating toward him. He wraps her in his arms and pops a kiss on her forehead. My shoulders tense; my fingers curling into fists.
He’s touching her, and I don’t like it. Which is ridiculous considering he’s married and gay. But my reaction doesn’t give a shit about logic. My blood heats, a low, irrational burn forming in my gut. Amy Corrigan is mine, whether she knows it or not.
“Hi, Ivan,” Trey says, then stretches out one hand to take mine. “Have you had a good festive season?”
“Yes, it’s been enjoyable,” I reply too smoothly. He gives me a look that says he knows I’m being vague.
“Is this guy hassling you?” he says to Amy with a wink. “Be warned. He’s a leech. He’s stuck to me before too. You’d be best to shake him off quick.”
Amy giggles. My face contorts. Twat.
“No, no,” Amy says, glancing between us. “We came together.”
“Together?” Trey splutters. “As in, you came in the same car?”
“We’ve been spending some time together over the holidays,” she confirms, squaring her shoulders, ready for an argument. Trey’s focus comes to me, eyelids narrowing to slits. He’s not happy, and I know why.
“As long as you’ve been having a nice time,” he says, but his forced smile is tighter than posing trunks. “You better go get ready, Amz. Your class is first up again. Someone really needs to speak to the organizers about their shitty timetable.”
She laughs and then bounces off in the direction of the changing room. We both watch her leave. I track her swinging hips until she disappears from view, my chest tightening with each step she makes.
“Does she know?” Trey asks.
I shake my head.
“What the fuck, Ivan? What did I tell you about getting involved with her?”
“It wasn’t deliberate,” I snap. “It kind of just happened. We’re having a bit of fun. She told me there’s no mileage in this. A few weeks of fooling around, and it will be over.” As my excuse passes my lips, I want to snap my mouth shut. It’s not true. I don’t even believe it. This is different.
“Fucking great,” he snarls. “The way she looks at you totally says otherwise.”
“You can’t fucking tell how she feels by looking at her looking at me for the whole of ten seconds. Don’t be such a dickhead.”
“Maybe not, but I know my friend, and she doesn’t fool around. How much time have you been spending together?”
“A few days, a few nights.” I clear my throat, trying to find air. Every night this week. “She helped me out with some Christmas shopping, then we bumped into a woman who wants to jump my bones. Amy pretended to be my girlfriend.”
He raises his eyebrows and signals for me to continue with his hand.
“Then she came with me to a country club ball as my fake date.”
“You took her to the country club?” he repeats, and I nod. “You don’t take women to the country club, do you?”
I shrug. “And she came to my family Christmas Eve dinner.”
“Why? Why the fuck would you do that? We both know that you wouldn’t take a woman anywhere if you didn’t want to. This fake date excuse is a load of shit. It was a way for you to get her on her back. And it bloody worked.”
“Believe what you want,” I mutter. “We’re both adults, and it’s fuck all to do with you.”
“Perhaps, but when you break her heart, it will become my business. I warned you to stay away from her. You don’t have many friends, Ivan, and, fucking hell, you know how to screw them over.”
“I have no intention of screwing anyone over,” I whisper angrily.
My pulse thuds in my neck, hot and raw. “Or breaking anyone’s heart.
” His eyes widen in surprise at my words.
“It’s not just fucking. I like her. A lot.
It’s her who said she thinks it’s just a bit of fun. I haven’t corrected her yet.”
He stares at me, assessing my expression. “Yet? Well, you better work out how you’re going to explain how you’ve ended up owning her fucking gym then.”
I balk. My stomach drops like I’ve missed a step on the stairs. And the fear I’ve been filing away at the back of my mind plummets into my ribs. I know this is going to be a problem.
“She won’t be so bloody keen to suck your dick once she finds out you used someone to buy it from her without her knowing.”
I really wish I hadn’t offered him the position of managing the revamped gym, but that was before anything had happened with Amy. I had no loyalty to her then, but now I do.
“None of this was planned,” I say, rubbing at my forehead. “Buying the gym was a business decision.”
“There are hundreds of empty properties. You bought that gym because she told you no. It was a challenge for you. You need to tell her. That place was her dream. She’s devastated she lost it.
If she finds out you have it and didn’t tell her.
..” His words disappear into a huff. “I actually don’t know what she’ll do.
I just know it will hurt her that you weren’t honest.”
“I’ll tell her once we get back from Thailand.”
“Thailand?” he snaps. “You’re taking her to Thailand?”
“It’s probably best you don’t ask,” I tell him, then turn and walk off in the direction of my office, my festive mood shriveling like it’s been dropped in ice water.
I’ve had plenty of opportunities to tell Amy I bought Bex’s New You―she’s spoken about it often enough―but I’ve always lost my bottle. Every conversation about the place ends with her crying about how she let her sister down and how she hopes it won’t reopen as a gym.
It’s too late. The contract is signed, and it opens at the end of January. Staff have been appointed and we’re putting in the finishing touches before opening. Every upgrade I sign off on feels like another betrayal.
“Ivan,” Trey calls behind me, “when do you leave?”
“The fourth,” I answer over my shoulder, but keep walking.
“Tell her when you get back. The last thing I want to do is ruin her fucking holiday. You’ll do a good enough job of that in a few weeks.”
I keep my eyes focused on my destination.
“And I’ll be here to pick up the pieces.”
Later, Amy stands clutching her second-place trophy in my office. “Did you see me?” she says, her voice shrill with excitement.
“You looked incredible,” I tell her. I’m pretending to concentrate on a spreadsheet. The truth is, I didn’t watch her, unsettled after my conversation with Trey. Shame stabs at my collar, blazing under my shirt.
She wanders over and presses her lips against mine.
“Maybe we should give the party a miss,” she whispers. “Let’s go back to your place and bring in the bells in bed.” She spins my chair to face her, pulling herself up onto my lap. “Can I convince you to leave your post, Mr. Harley? You have other duties to attend to.”
***
Last night was incredible. We snuck out of the rear door of the gym into the night. Amy had never been to my apartment before. I was nervous about her seeing it.
Very rarely do I take women home. Normally my relationships―if you can call them that―take place in hotels or over my office desk. I like the anonymity that arrangement gives me, the power. I have never had to evict a screaming woman from my home. It’s my safe space.
But having Amy there is different. Her laugh echoing off the kitchen tiles, her shoes dumped beside mine—it all felt wrong and right at the same time. The feeling was both calming and confusing.
We had the most perfect night together. Every touch, kiss, and sensation was more gratifying than the last. I’d acquainted myself with every part of her body. Sure, we’d had sex before, but this was more. It was like having an out-of-body experience.
My ecstasy came not only from my own pleasure but from hers.
The way she closed her eyes and moaned when she peaked.
The hiss she made when I took her nipple between my teeth.
How her fingers played with my hair when I was focused between her legs.
The taste of her on my tongue, my own addictive cocktail.
Her pleasure is my ultimate aphrodisiac.
Now, we’re lying in bed as the early morning sunshine peeks through a crack in the curtains.
Amy is still sleeping, her head on my chest with one arm draped across my torso.
She’s snoring softly, her gentle breath on my skin as my hand runs up and down her spine.
On instinct, I lower my mouth to her hair and kiss the top of her head.
She stirs, and I freeze, not wanting to wake her, but her wriggling continues. After a few minutes, beautiful brown eyes look at me beneath dark lashes.
“Morning,” she purrs. “We definitely made the right decision coming back here last night. I don’t think I’ve ever had a more explosive New Year.”
I chuckle. “There were certainly plenty of fireworks,” I agree. “Shall we get some breakfast?”
“Do we have to get up?” she moans. “Can we not just stay in bed all day?”
“We could, but I may end up taking a bite out of you. I’m ravenous. You worked me hard last night, you filthy girl. Your pussy and I are now the best of friends.”
She smiles against my skin and drops her eyes away, embarrassed. Her cheeks warm against my ribs; the soft slide of her hair on my stomach tightens everything lower down.
“I’ll make us something to eat, then we can come back to bed. How does that sound?”
“Perfect,” she says and kisses my chest.
Amy sits at the breakfast bar on a high stool. She’s wearing my navy silk robe with nothing underneath, one of her long, shapely legs crossed over the other, and her platinum hair is piled on top of her head. Every time she shifts, the robe parts just enough to tease a little more.
Her voice fills the room as she chats away about yesterday’s competition and how excited she is about going to Thailand. My chest tightens slightly. I really should tell her about the gym before we go, but I don’t want to risk her not coming. So, I stay quiet.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been abroad,” she says. “Terry and I never really had the money to go away somewhere exotic.” She flushes slightly when she mentions her ex-husband’s name. “Sorry,” she adds.
“What for?” I ask, confused.
“For talking about my past relationship.”
“Why? You were married for a long time. There are always going to be memories or past experiences that include him. Don’t be embarrassed about mentioning his name.”
“It just feels weird,” she mumbles.
We face each other across the counter while I juice various fruits for a smoothie. I turn off the machine and walk around to her. She peeks up at me, redness spreading up her neck.
I place my hands on her lower thighs, then slowly move them upward, sliding them under the silk fabric. My fingers find her bare waist and pause. Her thighs soften around my legs. I drop my lips to her neck.
“Amy,” I whisper, “you’re here with me. That’s all that matters.
Not your past or who you’ve been with. Neither of us are kids; we both have history.
” I nip her neck and move my hands lower, so my thumbs sit on her inner thighs.
She rests her head on my shoulder and snakes her arms around my neck.
“Let’s just enjoy the incredible sex and worry about the specifics later. ”
“You’re so…” she says before trails off. I peek at her, willing her to say what she wanted to.
“I’m so what?”
“Confident.”
“And is that a bad thing?”
“No, it’s just not something I’m used to in a man. Terry always needed me until he didn’t.” She sighs softly. “But I never doubted his feelings for me.”
“Do you doubt mine?”
We stare at each other for a moment. This is one of those relationship conversations I always avoid, never having allowed things to get to this stage, where I actually care about the person I’m sleeping with.
“I don’t know how you feel about me, Ivan,” she says with a shrug. “This all started because you needed a decoy, and I was convenient.”
I wince slightly at that comment, pathetically true. My grip on her thighs loosens. The shame is instant and sharp.
“For whatever reason, you wanted to continue the charade, then we discovered we have amazing sex.”
“And is that all this is? Sex?” I ask her. My voice steady but weighted. This matters. Her answer matters.
My heart beats harder as I wait for her answer. In years gone by, a woman who only wanted me for sexual pleasure would have been my dream, the ultimate goal. A pussy on tap and no commitment. With this woman, I want our liaison to mean more.
“I hated you before,” she says. “How can’t it be only about the sex? This…” Her hand circles the air. “Doesn’t make any sense. How can two people who couldn’t stand each other be together?”
“I found you attractive from the first day I met you,” I tell her.
“But you didn’t like me,” she points out.
“I was under the impression you had poached Trey. I was pissed off. So, yes, I had preconceived ideas.”
This conversation is becoming more serious by the second, and I’m not sure I like it. There are certain topics I don’t want to broach now. Every instinct tells me to pull away, to make a joke, but she deserves better.
“I was wrong. Trey set me straight a few months later. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so rude at our first meeting.”
“Apology accepted,” she says with a smile that speaks directly to my cock, which begins to stir.
“Look, I like you. A lot. We don’t need to decide right now. Let’s go to Thailand, have fun, then see what happens when we come home. Nothing is set in stone.”
She nods and leans forward, placing her lips on mine. I pull back, and she blinks.
“Please let me eat, then I’ll take you to bed and we can stay there until we need to leave for the airport. I’ll get my housekeeper to pass food under the door.”
“You have a housekeeper?”
“I’m a busy man. I need help around the house. And now that I have a woman to keep satisfied, I’m going to be run off my feet.”
After one more quick kiss, I return to making our breakfast, the future pressing on the edge of my thoughts like a lie I’m not ready to face.