The Stranger at the Gym Part 2

The water is nice on my skin - a little too cold for my liking, but I need it to be if I'm going to make it through the day without relieving whatever has me wound tighter than a damn jack-in-the-box.

After I dry off, I slip into a black pair of lacy underwear, zip myself into my tight, black dress, and slip on a matching pair of black stilettos. Then, I gather my things and make my way over to the foggy mirrors. I stare at my reflection. Even after the cool shower, my cheeks are still flushed.

I rub on my foundation to lessen the pinkish hue, apply some subtle eye make-up, and pull my long, damp hair into a makeshift bun. It's messy, but at least it looks deliberate. Then, I swap out my makeup for my cell phone and carry my bag on one shoulder. When I switch on my phone, I'm bombarded with text messages and voicemails from Blade, Mom, and my best friend, Selena.

TEXT FROM: SELENA 12:00 A.M.

Why is Blade calling me non-stop?

Please tell me it's for real and

You dumped his arrogant ass?

TEXT FROM: SELENA 12:15 A.M.

Answer me! I don't know if I should

open this champagne or not. The suspense

is killing me!

TEXT FROM: SELENA 12:30 A.M.

I opened it anyway.

I laugh under my breath and reply.

TO: SELENA 8:15 A.M.

It's over between us.

The bastard left -

"Unf," I grunt as I slam into a hard body and stumble backward. My phone slips from my hands and hits the floor with an anxiety-inducing

crack. "Oh, no."

I bend down and scoop up my phone.

"I'm so sorry," I say to the stranger. "I wasn't watching where I was go - " My gaze settles on a pair of men's white sneakers and I freeze, my hand tightening convulsively around my cellphone. "Going."

No. I lift my attention a little higher, to the black fabric that swallows up the mouth of the sneakers. No. I drag my stare further up his impossibly perfect body, fluttering over his Adonis belt and the cursive tattoo on his hip.

No, no, no, no.

The six-pack.

God, let it be anyone but him.

The hard chest, sculpted pecs, and intricate tattoos.

Crap.

My knees tremble as I peer shyly into his chocolate irises through my long, dark lashes. Seth's gaze flares, enlivening the little golden rivers of honey that branch throughout, and I swallow hard. His intense, curious stare is painfully intimate and incredibly inappropriate from this angle. I should be ashamed of the surge of excitement that spills through me, but I'm not. I'm unbelievably turned on.

Seth Marc extends a long-fingered hand and I stare into the center of his large palm. I've never seen hands so big. Clearing my throat, I nervously slip my hand into his. Our palms touch and he grips me tight. Electrical currents zip from his palm and infiltrate my bones and I try not to think about it as I grip him back.

"Did I get you wet?" he asks in a voice that is so sinfully deep it sends a violent shiver down my spine.

I lift my eyebrows as warmth bursts in my cheeks. "What?"

His full lips quirk, his eyes dancing with devilish excitement. He helps me to my feet and keeps his hot, damp, and claiming hold on me long after I've straightened myself.

"Did I get you wet?" he repeats slower this time, emphasizing each word. "I'm dripping with sweat."

"Oh, right." I glance down at my dress, at two damp patches that are darker than the rest, but it's nothing too gross. I don't think the word gross can be used in the same sentence as this man. "N-no. You're good."

"Good," he repeats, trying the word out on his tongue.

He draws my hand to his mouth and I'm unsuccessful at tearing my eyes away from his as he places his soft lips on my knuckles. My lips part to let out a rush of air as pure, white-hot lust tears through my body, spilling over every organ and every bone, before settling between my thighs. Is this happening? Or did I slip in the shower and hit my head? Seth tugs on me and I gasp as he pulls me in close. My free hand flies up and I rest it against his hard chest to stop myself from fully pressing against him.

"Wow. You're firm," I said on exhale. "And damp."

Seth's mouth molds into a breathtaking smile and if he weren't holding my hand, it would've knocked me on my ass. Perfect lips, perfect teeth, perfect smile lines that carve their way through his face. I should hate him for being so beautiful. I stare into his dark eyes completely disarmed and confused as heat radiates from his body, undoing everything my cold shower did for me.

"What's your name?" he asks, his eyes flickering over my face, settling on my lips.

"O-Olivia."

"Olivia." The corner of Seth's lips twitch and our gazes lock. I'm scared of what I see in his dark depths - his wicked intentions, and his naughty, silent promises. "Olivia is a beautiful name."

A telltale blush springs to my cheeks and I open my mouth to thank him only to be cut off by someone clearing their throat. "Seth?"

The feminine tenor hits me like a bucket of ice water, and I wince. Blowing an impatient air out of his nose, Seth peers over his shoulder. I crane my neck around his large frame and follow his line of sight to the beautiful brunette in the purple tube dress. Oh. I can't believe I forgot about her. I can't believe he'd touch me knowing she was still here. I snatch my hand back, step away from Seth, and pin him with a disgusted glare as I smooth my hands down the front of my dress and adjust the backpack hanging off my shoulder.

"Excuse me," I say, stepping around him, purposely avoiding eye contact with the brunette. "I'm going to be late for work."

Seth watches me, highly amused, and I can't stand it. I make it to the front doors before she barks at him about how disrespectful he is being. The low, dangerous rumble of his voice is all I hear as I flee the gym without a glance over my shoulder.