He threw a fake jab toward the side of her head. She grabbed on with both arms, lowering him farther. One feminine leg latched around the back of his neck, pressing his cheek to the soft skin of her inner thigh while sliding his forearm straight up the warmth of her mound. Two tempting thighs clamped tightly around his face. She had him locked in.
He expected her to immediately release him. Instead, she tugged the back of his head down a little farther, bringing him closer still to a forbidden area. And he realized she knew more about this hold than she’d let on. He hadn’t told her about holding his head down, which helped keep the opponent immobile. Though he was nowhere close to being in danger of losing consciousness—she didn’t have the strength to do that—he was in all kinds of danger of losing coherent thought.
His face was just inches from her mound. The skin of her thighs burned into his cheeks. And he had the insane urge to break the weak hold and bury his face where she was damn near begging him to go. Then she suddenly released him, and a stuttered exhale shot from his mouth as he leaned back and closed his eyes.
Fuck. He wasn’t going to be able to handle much more of this. He didn’t want this attraction to Gayle. He just wanted the fucking friendship. Why couldn’t he just have the friendship?
“How was that?”
“What?” He opened his eyes. Damn woman was still on her back with her legs spread wide before him. He could strangle her. He shoved to his feet and put some distance between them. “Not bad.”
“My turn.”
“For what?”
“I want to know what it feels like to be in the lock. So wrap those legs around my head, handsome.”
The image of Gayle’s face posed inches above his cock as he put her in the hold had lust slamming through his body and the aforementioned body part twitching in response. Trying to dislodge the alarming image to rid his body of its even more alarming reaction, he shook his head violently. That didn’t work. Fuck. He needed something more physical. He drove a fist into a bag, sending it spinning into the air. That helped—some.
In his peripheral vision, Gayle propped up on her elbows, head tilted at an angle, studying him intently. As though she was seeing more than he wanted her to see. It was unnerving.
“I’m not going to ask,” she said softly. “If or when you want to talk about it is up to you, but I’m a good listener, Mac…if you ever need an ear.”
The use of his name and not the endearment she’d tagged him with had him shooting a glance at her. Sincerity was etched clearly on her face. She’d seen he’d freaked out and instead of some crazy innuendo, she’d offered him a friend.
There was more to Gayle Matthews than a shocking mouth and a good time.
“Lance hasn’t told you about me?” he asked quietly.
“I make it a point not to pry.” She pushed to her feet. “I figure when a person is ready to share their darkest secrets, they will. All I know from Lance is you’re his friend and you fight. The rest needs to come from you. And when you’re ready, I’m willing to listen.” She looked down at her body, then started for the door. “I don’t know about you, but I stink. I need a shower.”
Wow. Not only had she backed off, but she was giving him space and letting him save face. Lance was right. She was awesome.
“Hey, Gayle?”
She peered over her shoulder, brow arched.
“Thanks. Not many people would do what you just did.”
A soft smile curved her lips. “Nothing to thank. I’m very familiar with the look you get on your face. I don’t know what circumstances put yours there, but even crazy Gayle knows when to back off.”
She was familiar with the look? How?
As she started for the door again, he couldn’t stop himself from calling her name once more.
Why couldn’t he just let her leave?
And then he realized he didn’t want her to go.
He ran his hands through his hair, unsure how to deal with the sudden insight.
He did need space, but he also needed to know he’d see her again. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
She turned, and again her gaze felt like it was seeing deep into his soul. “I have a race.”
Disappointment hit him. A telling emotion of how Gayle affected him, how much he liked being around her.
“Want to come?” Gayle added.
Did he? He studied the woman before him. Her gaze soft. Patient. Kind. “Don’t you need to pre-register for those things?”
“I happen to be good friends with the coordinator. I think I can pull a few strings.”
He wanted to snatch the offer she gave him without thought. That dangerous reaction pushed him to say, “Let me get back to you on that, okay?
He needed to think things through first.
“Sounds good. I’ll see you later, Mac.”
He actually missed her endearment for him and hoped he hadn’t scared her away from using it. Once the door closed behind her, he sat down on a workout bench, braced his elbows on his knees, and hung his head. It’d been a very long time since he’d actually craved being around someone. He preferred to be alone. Alone meant no one depended on him. That was safe. No risk of failing someone else. He didn’t want to invite that back into his life. He’d done it once with tragic consequences.