“Oh, and I like to fuck.” The words were said so casually, I knew he was trying to get a rise out me, of what variety I wasn’t sure, but a rise he did get. I felt my face flush and my thighs tighten; my core lapped up the words like I’d spent endless days drudging through the desert. Wasn’t it Freud who said, “A joke is a truth wrapped in a smile”? I didn’t doubt Joel’s words. It was very obvious he liked to fuck. He wore sex appeal like a CEO wears a well-fitted suit.

“Is that a hobby or a job of yours?”

“I guess it depends on who’s asking. I am talking to a lawyer, after all. I don’t think this conversation falls under the Attorney-Client privilege, does it?”

“Cute.”

“At least I’m house-trained.”

“That remains to be seen.”

We fell into a comfortable conversation, but with every piece of information he revealed, it felt like I was a miner digging for coal only to come back with dusty hands and nothing to show for all the work I’d put in. Somehow, the conversation turned full circle until we were back to discussing me. I should have been annoyed by his avoidance, but it was also quite endearing that he seemed so interested in me and what I did for a living. Something told me it wasn’t very often that Joel sat down to actually learn something about the women he slept with.

When our plates dwindled down to a few grains of rice, and the sound of our forks scratching the plate seemed to be the loudest sound filling the house, Joel picked up our plates and turned into the kitchen while I retired to the couch.

“It’s late. Let’s tuck my pretty bird into bed.”

“I’m not sleepy,” I said while stretching my legs out across the couch. His large hand digging into the arch of my heel gave new meaning to “fisting.” I nearly purred with the tension that broke beneath the strength of his touch.

“Who said anything about sleeping?” His hands skipped across my body like a stone skimming a lake, before he had my body up and over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold—my head cushioned by his firm butt and my hair slapping against the back of his legs. The rooms passed by in a blur of darkness as Joel whisked me into the bedroom—the one place where he didn’t seem to hold back.

Chapter Eight

With eyes closed, I stretched my body into a cobra pose, breathing deeply through my nose and exhaling from my mouth. I relaxed my mind and body before diving back into the Farrows case.

“Now, I see how you’re so limber.”

His voice was a jolt of electricity, reminding me of the power he held over my body. Just a subtle hint of his spicy masculine scent and a few brief words and my body sparked to life, reminding me of the needs I’d been neglecting for months.

He strode in, smacking my butt as he passed me on his way to the desk. He set something down and then turned to face me. I felt his eyes pass over my body slowly, like ice cream dripping down a cone on a hot, sunny day. With his tall, thick body stretched out against my desk, I did some visual devouring of my own. I traced his bare chest: the contours of his muscles, his nipples tight with the morning chill.

“Do you mind?” I said when I came to my senses. It was hard to do with a half-naked Joel, but I somehow managed.

“I don’t actually. I have an idea.”

“You get many of those?”

“From time to time. I was thinking, let’s spice up our routine today. You can show me this,” he said, waving his hand to indicate my position. “And I’ll show you some CrossFit workouts. Ever tried it?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“Great. Then it’s settled.”

He turned back around, and I caught a glimpse of the thing he held in his hand earlier. My phone. He pressed a few buttons and the top 40 filled the silence of the room. It was just low enough to still talk over, but loud enough to create background noise. Anything to mask the sound of whistling winds and roving debris that sounded like it wanted to rip the tiles right off my roof.

I stood up, knowing my session had officially ended, though I wasn’t as upset at the disruption to my routine as I ordinarily would have been.

“And what do you get out of this?” I asked with arms folded across my chest. Not that I didn’t mind watching his body contort and stretch, unlocking the mass of his muscles from rock solid to something a little closer to thick putty.

“Quality time? Girls like that, right?”

“Fine.”

I knew he was just here to goof off, but I actually liked spending time with him. Joel was smart, funny, witty, charming, with the body of a god and the mind of a 16-year-old boy.

Trouble. That’s what Joel was.

I knew it.

I could feel it.

In every loose smile and quick retort. In the way he could spin me in circles with his words, making me feel like a mere bystander in a conversation between just the two of us. And I was no country bumpkin.

As I settled Joel into the first position, guiding his arms and legs into a position that was no more complex than a simple stretch, I thought about the man from the bar. The mountain of a man who seemed out of my league, who looked like he could have been born in the suit he wore—it fit him so well. That man and this one seemed like they existed in parallel universes.

“You said you’re an only child?” I asked, holding his arm in place.

“Yeah. Why? You already trying to upgrade me?”

“Would you blame me? You’re kind of a handful.” His lips spread wide, smiling clear to his eyes, and I realized what I’d said. Did I say 16-year-old mind? I meant 13-year-old mind.

“That’s what she said.”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

His body wobbled, thrown off balance by the subtle shake of his head.

“You know, when I first met you I actually thought you were one of those fitness trainers. Wait, you never told me what your business actually does.”

“Telecommunications. Although, I’m glad you appreciate the package.”

We spent the next ten minutes rolling through a few moves, but I could tell he wasn’t really focused on yoga. It’s not like he was genuinely interested. It was probably just an excuse to be near me and have my hands all over him, not that he needed an excuse.

“Why don’t you show me that move you were doing earlier? You know the one. You looked like the Little Mermaid, except less Disney and more siren.” I suppressed a chuckle and guided him down, but when I leaned over, he pulled me down with him, suspending my body with the weight of one arm. I squealed and pleaded for him to put me down until we both collapsed onto the ground.

“Don’t do that.” I smacked at his chest playfully. His chest shook with laughter, and he pulled me over his body so my knees rested on either side of his hips and my butt sat on the other side of his freshly sprouted erection. The thick muscle held me in place, sitting snug against my backside.

“OK, now show me some of this CrossFit stuff.”

“Lift your hips a little.” I rose higher on my knees and felt his cock protesting every inch that moved me farther away. He swiveled his body until his chest was to the ground and I was now sitting with my legs just around his waist.

“You can sit now.”

“You don’t want me to get up?”

“No. You weigh nothing…how am I looking in terms of brownie points?”

I slapped his back like a jockey lashing their horse to attention. It was with all of the effort I could muster to not molest him with my hands, lingering within the groove of thick muscle that bunched together between his shoulder blades. The muscles tightened and released with every rise and fall of Joel’s arms. I counted out every push-up, impressed by his sheer strength. Strength I’d seen firsthand as he spent the last couple days tossing me around the bedroom like a hacky sack.