Two machines over was the kind in which you lie on a bench and lift a barbell up. I’d seen people do that in movies plenty of times. As long as I didn’t put too much weight on the barbell, it seemed like I couldn’t mess that up too badly.
However, like everything else, it was easier said than done. For one thing, the bench was a bit too high, and once I lay down on it only the tips of my toes touched the ground. The barbell was centered above my neck, held suspended by two supports on either side, and I had to lift my shoulders to reach it. Either I was doing it wrong or these machines weren’t designed with females in mind.
Straining upward, I succeeded in lifting the bar off of the rack, but then it swayed from side to side. Great. The woman up front would probably laugh her tiny ass off if I managed to knock myself out. With great effort, I got the bar under control and then lowered it, my elbows sticking out to the sides. When the bar was all but resting on my breasts, I pushed it up, trying to keep it from wobbling from side to side, until my arms were full extended. I let out the breath I’d been holding, and I lowered it again.
“Stop.”
A musky sandalwood scent hit my nose at the same time a tall figure appeared over me—directly over me. The man above me swung a long, tan leg over and straddled me. He plucked the bar out of my grasp and put it back up on the rack.
“Hey, Austin.” I tried to sound normal, as if I was used to having a gorgeous man appear out of nowhere and climb on top of me.
“Most people have trouble telling us apart, you know.” His initial smile turned into a frown. “You should’ve let us know you were here.”
“Yeah, I should have.” I decided not to mention the snooty but perfect feminine specimen up at the front desk. For all I knew, Austin was dating her or something, and then I’d have to strangle her with her bouncy ponytail.
“I never figured you for the gym type.”
That was a bit insulting. True, but insulting. “I’m not, really, but you know… new town, new life. Time to make some positive changes.” My gaze was drawn to one of his powerful thighs. It was too disconcerting to stare directly into his eyes when he was so close to me.
“That’s the right attitude. And speaking of changes, let’s get you situated.” He stepped back, swinging his leg back over me, and then disappeared from view. A few seconds later, I yelped as I felt a firm hand grasp my ankle and lift. A moment later, he placed my foot back down on some kind of block or something a few inches off the ground. He did the same to the other side, and the strain in my lower back eased. Then he grabbed the insides of my shoes and pushed, spreading my legs wider. That caused an entirely different body part to wake up and start throbbing as a direct result of his touch.
Then he came back into sight, adjusting the weights on either side of the barbell. Lastly, he straddled me again and leaned forward, his head within kissing range. He grasped my sides just below my breasts and pushed me up the bench, positioning me differently.
“That better?” he asked while straightening up. I nodded, still sneaking peeks at his powerful thighs on either side of my waist. And the shiny black shorts that couldn’t quite disguise the bulge underneath. Then there was the tight tank top that clung to his abs and pecs. And above all that, those piercing whiskey-colored eyes in that handsome face.
“That’s perfect,” I breathed.
He smirked and then ran his eyes up and down me. “Keep your feet flat on the blocks. And lower your shoulders. Lower—like you’re trying to stick your tits out. Got it?”
I managed to nod even though my blood was racing. This demigod of a man was standing over me and calmly discussing my breasts. It was enough to make a girl melt. Then, to make things worse—or better?—he reached down and grabbed my hands, bringing them up to the bar. “Keep your arms wide. The goal is to really open up your chest.”
He could open any part of me he wanted.
Wait, maybe that wasn’t what I was supposed to be thinking—at least not right now, and definitely not in public.
Austin grasped the bar in the middle between my hands and pulled it off the supports. “Balance it over your chest and hold it steady. Yeah, like that. Now brace your abs—tighten them, I mean,” he elaborated at my look of confusion. Then he let go of the bar. “Great. Now lower it steadily. Breathe in when you lower it. Good. No, keep both ends level and the bar centered over you.”