Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Chapter 12
Storee
I couldn’t quite make out the sound I was hearing as I walked down the stairs in the morning.
Whipping?
Leather hitting something?
It was coming from the back room, which I knew to be Locke’s gym.
“Locke?” I called out, not sure if I was interrupting something.
Oh, god, please don’t have me walk in on him having sex with someone?
“Locke?” I called out again. “I need to get home, but I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”
I approached the door to the back room and hesitated for a moment. The sounds I was hearing could be sexual, and I didn’t want to intrude on Locke’s private life. But then again, he had invited me to stay the night, and I had a feeling that he would be angry if I simply left without saying goodbye first.
I pushed open the door and was immediately hit with the scent of sweat and… Locke’s bare—very muscular—chest. My eyes took a few moments to adjust to the dim lighting, but when they did, I was fully greeted with a sight that made my heart race.
Locke was in the center of the room, shirtless, wearing gray sweats, and covered in a sheen of sweat. His muscular chest was heaving, and his eyes were closed in concentration as he jumped rope in front of a full mirror.
The whipping sound was the rapid speed of the rope hitting the floor as the sexiest man I had ever seen was working out with headphones in his ears and oblivious that I stood with my mouth agape and my body frozen in place. His movements were fluid and graceful, as if he and the rope were one entity moving in perfect unison. I couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles flexed and bulged with each jump.
Locke’s body was a work of art, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the sight in front of me. I felt like I was catching a glimpse of something intimate yet powerful. I’d had no idea that he had so many tattoos on his upper arms and chest, and they only added to the raw masculinity that emanated from him.
The sight of his sculpted body and the sound of the rope hitting the floor were hypnotic, and I was drawn in like a moth to a flame. He had a V of muscles leading to the waistband of his sweats, and I couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to run my fingers along his skin, to feel his muscles tense and relax beneath my touch. My mind drifted to what it would feel like to have him pressed up against me, sweaty and musky, as he whispered naughty things in my ear.
As he finished up his routine and caught sight of me in the reflection of the mirror, his expression transformed from one of concentration to one of surprise. He quickly removed his headphones and turned toward me, giving me a full view of his chiseled jaw and intense dark eyes.
“Hey,” he said, his voice husky from the workout. “Didn’t hear you come in.”
“Sorry,” I said, feeling embarrassed for interrupting him, trying to keep my eyes from wandering lower than his chest. “I just wanted to say goodbye before I left. I didn’t mean to interrupt your workout.”
His eyes locked onto mine, and I could feel the heat emanating from his body. He had been working out for a while, and his muscles were pumped, his veins bulging as if they were about to burst.
“It’s fine,” he said, flashing me a smile that made my knees weak. “You’re always welcome here, you know that.”
I nodded, unable to find the words to respond as he walked toward me, his bare chest glistening with sweat. It was like a scene straight out of my wildest fantasies.
“Are you ready to leave already?” he asked, setting down the jump rope.
“Uh, yeah,” I managed to stammer out. “I need to get to work.”
Locke walked over to me, his eyes never leaving mine. He was so close I could feel the heat emanating off of his body, and I found myself inhaling his scent—a musky, masculine smell that made my knees weak.
“I’ll take you home.” He reached for his shirt and put it on, which was a true shame.
“You don’t have to do that,” I said, feeling awkward and unsure of what was happening.
“I insist,” he replied, his voice low and commanding, his hand coming up to rest on my lower back. “It’s no trouble at all.”
As we walked toward his car, I could feel his eyes on me, and it made me nervous. I wasn’t used to feeling so exposed and vulnerable, especially to someone like Locke, who exuded power and confidence in every move he made. But as he opened the car door for me and helped me in, I would have hit my head on the frame of the car if it hadn’t been for Locke’s hand blocking, protecting me.