CHAPTER FIVE

WALKER

This is either the dumbest thing I’ve ever done or the smartest. I’m not even sure if it’s my dick that’s leading me here or my gut. Definitely not my heart. I spent one night with the woman. My heart wasn’t something I shared or planned on sharing.

Another night like the one we had a few weeks ago is all I’m after.

I push open the door to Boston Strong and am immediately impressed with the welcoming feel. It doesn’t carry the typical smell of sweat and rubber mats like the gyms I’m used to.

To the right, racks of dumbbells, a Smith machine, and various other pieces of gym equipment are nicely spread out across a decently sized space. I’m impressed with the square footage Riley was able to acquire in the city. From the outside, it doesn’t look this big.

To the left is a small check-in desk, and beyond, I can see the green of indoor turf. In the middle is a wide staircase leading to what appears to be offices or possibly private rooms for physical therapy patients.

“Hi. Can I help you?” a woman from the desk asks.

I take one more quick glance around the gym and frown when I don’t see Riley among the nine people working out. I lower the bill of my hat on my forehead and head over to the desk.

“Hi. I’m looking for Riley...” Shit. I can’t believe I don’t even know her full name. “Is she available?”

“What’s your name? Do you have an appointment with her?” The woman taps on the keyboard and glances at me. I’ll give her credit. She does a decent job of hiding the way she’s checking me out and keeping it professional.

“Uh, Walker. And I don’t.”

“Oh. Are you here for a tour of the facility before joining? We offer a three-day pass. I can sign you up if you’d like.”

I scratch the back of my neck and glance around the facility again. “Maybe. I, uh, is Riley here today? If not, I can come back another time.”

The woman folds her hands in front of her and looks over my shoulder. “Hang on a minute. I’ll be right back.”

I watch her walk toward the space with the green turf, and when I see the blonde ponytail and the most perfect ass encased in tight, black leggings, I bite back my groan. Nope. My imagination hadn’t over-exaggerated any of my fantasies the past few weeks while I had to pleasure myself with my hand.

The vision of Riley I’ve had tattooed in my brain was one hundred fucking percent spot on. I can still feel her strong thighs wrapped around my hips as I thrust into her. Not needing to sport wood in my jeans, I shake off the memory and watch as the front desk lady talks animatedly, her arms flailing, and fans her face with her hand.

Riley shakes her head until I see my name form on the other woman’s lips. Riley’s eyes grow wide and she clutches her clipboard to her chest the same time she flicks her gaze in my direction.

I tip my chin in greeting, and, even with the distance between us, I can see her cheeks bloom to a deep pink that matches the color of her nipples. Fuck, but those tits are God’s gift. I tuck my thumbs in the front pockets of my jeans and do my best to appear cool, calm, and collected as she makes her way to me.

“Walker?”

The receptionist lady stands by her side and doesn’t hide her interest in whatever there is between Riley and me.

“Hey. Long time no see,” I say, hoping I sound as chill as I’m pretending to be.

It’s been a hot minute since a woman had me stumbling over myself to spend time with her. Not since I was sixteen and tucked away at prep school in northern New York and Holly Jones showed me her tits.

She attended an all-girls academy a few miles from my Hell. Holly was a walking wet dream, and I had my fair share before she let me cop a feel. She was a tease but well worth the wait. I’m ashamed at how far I went to chase her down around town.

Once I got a taste of her though and realized she thrived on stringing as many guys along as she could, I lost interest. Quick.

Riley, however, is in a league of her own. A natural beauty. Sweet and sexy. Shy but aggressive when she’s about to climax. Fucking perfection. And not a clinger. Bonus points for that.

For the past decade, I’ve had to weed out decent women from the jersey chasers. Riley having no idea who I am is an added bonus. Granted, my intel on her is just as limited. And I’m okay with that.

She avoids making eye contact with me and glances to her left. “Thanks, Julie. I’ve got it from here.”

Julie doesn’t even pretend to hide her grin as she looks back and forth between Riley and me. “No problem. I’ll let you know when your next client arrives.”

When she’s back behind her desk and not within hearing distance, Riley’s death grip on her clipboard becomes even more apparent. Finally, her gaze meets mine.

“Walker.” She licks her lips, out of nerves I’m sure, but my dick thinks otherwise. “I...what are you doing here? I mean, how did you know I worked here?”

Even if I was worried about her being a clinger, she just doused those fears with a bucket of ice-cold water.

“You told me about Boston Strong the night we met.”

Those gorgeous chocolate eyes grow big and round. “You remembered that?”

“Of course I did.”

I remembered every fucking thing she told me. Every curve of her body. Every sound she made when I was kissing, sucking, licking, fucking her. I can’t tell her how she’s infiltrated every square centimeter of space in my head or I’ll freak her the fuck out. Hell, I’m freaked the fuck out by how much I’ve obsessed over her.

“Do you really want a tour?”

“I’d love to see the center, yeah.”

She loosens her grip on her clipboard and lets out a soft breath. “Okay, well, over here is obviously the weight room portion of the center. It gets busy in the afternoons when the kids get out of school. It’s trickier scheduling time for them and our paying clients in the summer.”

It was the curve of her hips and her doe eyes that lured me across the dance floor in Rhode Island. Then it was her sense of humor, shyness, and sexy as fuck mouth that held me captive. But learning about the program she developed for underprivileged kids sealed the deal on my obsession with her.

“Do your paying clients ever give you a hard time about having so many teenagers around?”

Not that there are any right now at ten o’clock in the morning on a Wednesday.

“If they do, then Boston Strong isn’t the right place for them. We’re up front before we take on any clients that our mission is to raise money and support kids who can’t afford PT or extra conditioning and coaching they may want or need. And we let the kids know that their scholarship can be taken away if we ever catch them using illegal substances or if they mess around in the center.”

“That’s admirable.” I follow her to the green turf at the back of the facility where therapists are working with patients. “Do you get a lot of professional athletes here with Boston being a hub for hockey, basketball, baseball, and football?”

“If they’re playing professionally, I’m sure they have their own trainers. I’d rather support those in need than millionaires who can afford their own private trainers, but if they want to support any of our fundraisers, I’ll gladly accept their money.”

“Have you reached out to any of the professional teams?”

“It’s on my list of things to do. I’ve been running a skeleton crew doing most of the business end of things myself. Once I’m—” She bites down on her lower lip and spins away from me.

“Once you’re...?”

Riley rolls her shoulders back and stands up straighter, as if feigning confidence. “Once I’m more ahead with...everything I’ll have more time to reach out.”

“What kind of fundraising have you done?”

“In early October, we host a Halloween costume themed 5K which has brought in some decent funds the past few years. I have more ideas but, again, time.”

We walk around the perimeter of the facility and stop at the stairs. “What’s up there?”

“Offices. PT rooms. A space we use for gentle yoga and Pilates.”

I follow her up the stairs and poke my head in the open doors. At the end of the hall, we enter what I assume is her office. It has a wall of windows that look down over the turf area where four patients are working with trainers.

“Nice view.” I move behind her desk and peer down at the bottom level. When I turn around, Riley is still standing in the center of the room, arms crossed and the clipboard missing.

“So, what, um, brings you to Boston?”

I lean against the windows and stick my thumbs in my front pockets. It’s either that or reach for her and cup her ass until she’s flush against my chest.

“Business. I flew in last night.”

“Are you here for a while?”

Not long enough to do all the things I want to do to you.

“Not really. I have a meeting this afternoon that will turn into a business dinner, and more of the same tomorrow. I fly back Friday morning.”

“Oh.”

I could be mistaken, but I think that was a disappointed, Oh. Since time isn’t on my side, I push off from the wall and take three long strides until I’m toe-to-toe with Riley. She drops her arms and tilts her head up.

“Have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

“Dinner?”

“Yes. Dinner.” I stroke the back of my fingers along her jawline. “The meal you have before bed.”

“I like to have a snack before I go to bed.” Her cheeks bloom nipple-pink again.

“We can do that too.”

She nibbles on her bottom lip for a moment before she speaks. “The snack or bed?”

“Whatever you want, Riley. If it’s just dinner, I’ll take it. If you want to have a snack later, I’m game. If you want me to join you in bed? All you have to do is ask. There’s no way in Hell I could turn you down.”

Riley snaps out of whatever trance she’s in and takes a step back. “Dinner would be nice.”

I study her for a moment, wanting to press about the other, but I can see I’ve rattled her. We were supposed to have a one-night stand. Showing up at her work three weeks later wasn’t on the table or agenda. While I’ve had time to think about and plan our encounter, she hasn’t had time to process. I’ll give her the day, but I’m not letting her go.

I reach for her leg and slide my hand into the pocket in her leggings and pull out her phone.

“What are you doing?”

I hold her phone to her face to unlock it, then turn it to me and send myself a text. “Putting my number in your phone.” I save myself as a contact and slip the phone back in her pocket.

Do I let my hand linger on the outside of her thigh? Hell yeah, I do. When she shivers and I see the obvious effect my touch has on her, I step back.

“Until tomorrow night.” I lean down and brush a kiss on her cheek and walk out of her office before my dick takes over and I bend her over her desk and fuck her to oblivion.

She agreed to dinner. By the way her cheeks turned pink and her nipples tightened, poking arrows through her shirt, I’m confident dinner will turn into a snack.

And by snack, I mean Riley’s pussy.