Page 13 of Cartel King

Enrique’s standing at the foot of the driveway with me, and his expression says he’s disappointed—but not heartbroken. I try to hide how much this bums me out after he was gone for two weeks.

“I plan to go out on the water tomorrow. Would you like to join me?”

“I’d love that.”

“Great. I’ll meet you at the boathouse at six, if that works for you.”

“Perfect.”

I watch him run back toward the bottom of my neighborhood, and I can’t stop thinking about tomorrow morning until I fall asleep. Then it’s the first thing on my mind as I open my eyes.

Rowers are early morning athletes. I’ve always loved it because I start my day on the water, and I’m done with my workout before most people finish their first cup of coffee.

I have most of my equipment unpacked and staged. I’m standing on the lip of my car with my driver’s door open as I lift my single rowing shell off the car rack. I hear someone behind me, then heat spreads across my back as long tan arms reach past me.

Enrique’s body brushes against mine as he takes my boat from me. I’m unprepared for the boat’s weight to disappear as he steps back. It puts me off balance, and I nearly fall. Enrique presses his chest to my back, keeping me from lurching backward. I grab the side of the door as an arm wraps around my waist, lifting me off my car and setting me on the ground. I know he has the shell resting on his head like rowers normally do to carry them, but we usually don't carry a person along with it.

“I’d never let you fall.”

His lips are beside my ear, and his firm hold around me has me pinned to him. I feel all his muscles against my back. I know what I feel against my ass, and I’m tempted to rub against his hard on. I’ve wanted to believe he might feel even a sliver of the attraction I do. If his cock is like that because of me, then it’s a yes.

He doesn’t let go as he takes three steps back, getting us clear of my open door. I push it closed and turn to face him. I reach up to take the boat from him, and that squeezes my breasts together. I’m wearing a sports bra and tank top that cover me modestly, but he still has a full-frontal view.

My mind flashes to him running his tongue between them. To looking down and watching him sucking on them. To feeling his hands on them. His gaze drops to them for a moment, but it’s so brief I think they don’t impress him. But as he lets go of me, his hand definitely trails over my ass even if it’s only a mere second.

“Thank you.”

We work in silence as we assemble our rigging and walk along the dock. Neither of us says anything about whether we’re sticking together. I assume so since he suggested we meet here, but I don’t know. I don’t want to slow him down.

“Do you have any favorite drills to warm up?”

I nod. “A few.”

As we get in and shove off the dock, I tell him what my workout usually includes. I worry I sound weak and out of shape. He grins at me as I speak.

“I’ll need a nap after this. How long do you work out each day?”

“A couple hours. I have the time now, so I do. I feel better for it.”

I expect him to ask me why, but he doesn’t. I’m not ready to delve into that. I don’t want to discuss my ex-husband or that relationship’s shortcomings.

We work through the drills I suggest then decide on the distance and pace we want to row and take off. His body is the definition of muscular grace. His muscles flex and release as his boat glides over the water. I do my best to maintain my concentration and stay on course, but he’s mesmerizing and mouthwatering.

We only speak when we take breaks. I enjoy the companionable silence we often have together. We pick up where we left off each time we slow or stop, sharing memories about teams we were on and regattas we went to. We attended the same ones, but not at the same time since he’s nearly ten years older than me. We move on to stories from college, which include some nights we should probably forget.

Two hours pass, and it feels like a couple minutes. I’m sweaty and parched by the time we get back to the dock. I accidentally flick water at him as I pull in one of my oars. He scoops up a handful that sprays across my lap. I fail to stifle my shriek since the water is freezing. I give as good as I get, ensuring he gets a healthy splash to his chest. His shirt’s already sticking to him, and that soaks it. Fuck, he’s fine.

He helps me put my shell back on my car, and we stand closer than usual as we say goodbye.

“I’d like to spend more time with you out here, Elodie.”

“My schedule’s flexible, and I like it out here in the morning and the evening. Let me know what works for you.”

I observe him for a moment before I take the plunge since he just told me he wants to spend more time with me.

“I’d like to walk with you more, too.”

“If I run in the morning, and you do your workout in your garage, maybe we could walk in the evenings.”

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