After that, it was like my hand took on a mind of its own, directing the brush across the canvas in broad strokes, my mind emptying as I focused everything I had on the work in front of me. Everything else fell away, drifting to the sides of my consciousness as I painted out a clumsy nature scene.
But now that same mindful approach won’t come to me, my thoughts are too busy becoming a battleground of Ryker and the showdown in the gym.
I laugh softly at the word.
Showdown.
My eyes roam over my bedroom, the single bed in the corner, well-made, with neat framed prints on the walls. Sadie once said my bedroom seems bare, probably because hers is a wild land of mayhem with her clothes strewn everywhere, paperbacks stacked next to her bed.
But for me, the neatness helps to bring some sort of order into my mind, helping me to feel like I have some control over my life.
It’s been hours since I left the gym, and yet when I close my eyes I feel like I’m still there, Ryker eyes searing into me as I sweat and panted on the machines.
My whole body starts to tingle when I remember the way his eyes seemed to flit up and down my body. But there’s no freaking way that actually happened, no freaking way I’m not imagining it.
Is there?
My body starts to buzz and tingle as my mind does crazy things, throwing up fantasies of Ryker grabbing my hips and dragging me off the exercise bike. I can feel his body against mine in a phantom impossibility, his rock hard chest pushed against mine, his hands digging firm and possessively into my hips, my ass, my legs, my everything.
My hand slides down my body, almost shyly, as though wanting to sneak down between my legs and greet the pleasure surely waiting there.
I let out a whimper as I push down on my sex, over my pants, trying to summon…
But it’s nothing compared to what Ryker would really feel like, his dominating hand, rubbing forcefully as he drives me closer and closer to the edge.
Knock-knock.
I almost let out a gasp at the sound of knocking at my door but instead, I laugh quietly. I really need to freaking get myself under control.
“Yes?” I call.
“It’s me,” Sadie says. “Dinner’s ready.”
“Oh, thanks,” I reply. “I’ll be right down.”
I hop down off my stool and place my paintbrush down, shaking my head as though I can dislodge thoughts of Ryker.
But I know I can’t. I know it’s downright freaking impossible.
Sadie’s question bounces around my mind, the one she asked me right after the gym session.
Can I truly wait another week before I see him?
Chapter Seven
Ryker
I never knew a week could feel so long.
I never knew seven simple days could become a whole universe of waiting, of white knuckling my self-restraint as I try to resist the urge to find her.
I go through my usual life – personal fitness sessions, leading classes at the gym, making business calls – as though I’m a sleepwalker. All I can think about is the way my woman looked and sounded and smelled in the gym, with her gorgeous curves and her cascading hair.
Whenever I wake in the middle of the night, which is most nights since I laid eyes on her, it’s with my manhood as stiff as a board. My helm pushing against my underwear and my balls like they’re filled with metal, so damn heavy and demanding, roaring at me to find a release.
But I can’t bring myself to stroke my hand up and down my length, to ply the release from myself. Because nothing can compare with how hot and tight her young perfect pussy would feel.
Nothing can compare with how perfectly her body will shape itself against mine, how sweet she’ll feel as she pushes against me, her nipples pebbled and ultrasensitive, her breath warm against my skin.
So I wait. And wait. And wait.
And soon the waiting becomes like a form of torture, visions of Rosie whispering from the edges of each moment. She hovers in the light slanting through windows, taking form in the shadows of my dreams.
She haunts me…
No, that’s not right, because haunting implies I don’t want her here.
As I get ready for today’s session, walking around the gym, making sure everything’s clean and functional, I know one thing without a single doubt.
I want her in my mind, always. She belongs to me.
Maybe I thought that was crazy before, this instant attraction, this sudden need.
But as the days have collapsed together, I find myself growing tired with that narrative. I don’t care if it should seem impossible. If I should be questioning this. If I shouldn’t be allowing myself to sink so freely into my obsession.
All I know is I have to have her, make her mine.