After a quick bite to eat, we’re ready to go into the ring to try out some of Britt’s modifications. Gabriel stands to one side while I torque my body into each requested position.
“Okay, see here?” Britt taps the inside of my left knee. “You need to be like this.” Her small hand wraps around my thigh to manipulate my leg where she wants it. Electricity from her touch burns from my leg up and over my entire body, scorching me from the inside out. I say a prayer of thanks for my athletic cup. Without it, my cock would be jutting right into Britt’s face since she’s on her knees in front of me.
It’s near impossible to concentrate without my brain going to thoughts of those thick lips wrapping around my dick, but years of exerting near obsessive control over my body helps to mask the urge. Helps, but doesn’t stop it completely. Britt is my weakness, my kryptonite. If I’m not careful, she’ll burrow under my skin, break down my meticulously crafted defenses, and reduce me to a weak, emotional mess.
Britt releases my leg and stands up, her face flushed. Is it possible she feels it too? This thread between us? One that keeps tugging me in as I fight to get free. Even if she feels it, I doubt Britt is feeling the same level of desire as me. It’s as if before we met I was suffocating, and now, when I’m near her, my lungs are filled with precious oxygen, allowing me to breathe easy for the first time in a decade.
“Try a few kicks,” Gabriel says, stepping aside so the camera can catch my new form. I execute a few downward roundhouse kicks, slamming my foot into Gabriel’s padded hands. “Well?” They both wait for me to say something.
What the hell do they want me to say?
I shrug. “It’s good.”
Britt smiles, her full lips pulling back to reveal brilliant white teeth. Her bright blue eyes and sweet face send another bolt of lightning to my blackened heart, this sweet, innocent angel trying to resuscitate a soul that died a long time ago. I don’t do angelic. I don’t do sweet. And I sure as fuck don’t do innocent. I can’t ruin her. And if I touched her, that’s what would happen. She’d be ruined. Dragged down into the blackness of my life, to never be the same.
I turn away from Britt’s smile, unable to continue looking at something I can’t ever have.
As we’re packing up at the end of the day, I catch that asswipe Max out of the corner of my eye. He’s lingering by the front desk all creepy as fuck. Britt locks up her office and heads toward the door where the two of them exchange a few words. I grind my teeth in aggravation as I watch. The urge to hit something is nearly overwhelming when Britt follows Max out to the parking lot where she climbs into his car.
Son of a bitch!
I’m not a good guy, not by any stretch of the imagination, and I don’t deserve a woman like Britt, but I’m positive Max might be the worst thing for the naive sports therapist, even when compared to me.
4
Britt
After dodging Max’s offers to drive me home the last few days, he traps me by the front desk. “Britt, you headed out?” His smile is forced, likely a result of my recent avoidance tactics. He’s been acting strange lately, especially around K, and it has me on edge. More so than usual. Work is my sanctuary and Max is ruining it with his bizarre behavior.
“Yes,” I respond as cheerily as I can manage seeing as I’m going to my parents’ house for dinner tonight. It’s hung over me all day. I’m dreading dinner more than a trip to the dentist’s chair.
“I’m about to leave myself. It’s pretty hot out so I figured you wouldn’t want to walk.”
It’s hot every damn day from May through October, I think. Instead of voicing my sarcastic response, I accept his offer, unable to come up with a reason to decline except the fact that Max makes me nervous lately.
“Sure. Thanks, Max.”
He grins, the smile more natural now that I agreed to the ride, which allows me to relax a little.
Max cranks up the A/C, letting the blazing hot car cool off a little before pulling out of the parking lot. “So,” he begins, his eyes never leaving the congested streets. “What’s up with the new guy?”
“Who?” I play dumb, knowing exactly who Max is asking about.
I catch Max rolling his eyes. “Killer. What a stupid name.”
Although I agree on the name thing, I’m not going to give Max the satisfaction of knowing he’s right. Plus, the way he’s always putting down K makes me defensive for some reason.
“He’s doing well. Once he hits the circuit, he’ll be unstoppable.”
Why I want to rub K’s success in Max’s face is a mystery. I guess it’s the fact that no one else here bothers to look past the tough exterior K projects. No one else sees or understands the similarities we share and hide from the world. Despite his attempt to cover it up, I see him. Inside, he’s damaged. Like me. And that makes him even more attractive in my eyes.
Max scowls. “We’ll see about that.”
“We will,” I agree.