Page 17 of Submit
Billionaire sex fiend caught peeping in neighbor’s windows. Perfect, asshole.
Slamming my keys down on the marble countertop, I yank off my gloves with my teeth and toss them aside too. I’m more miserable now than when I left the house, and hard too. So fucking hard.
“Fuck.”
Mabel meows at me, rubbing herself on my pant cuffs, looking up at me, and I swear I can see the disappointment on her silver face, as if she knows what I was up to.
“Don’t even say it.” I say, picking her up, bringing her fluffy body up to my cheek and rubbing on her. “I don’t wanna hear it.”
With a quiet mew and a rumbling purr, she squirms against me, giving me the affection I should be getting from a certain brunette with emerald eyes.
She’s a warm comfort, but not enough to calm the shit still raging through me. The bike ride didn’t do what I wanted it to, and looking in the weasel’s windows surely didn’t do anything good for my demeanor.
“I need to work out. Maybe that’ll help.” I say to the cat, setting her down on the counter then stripping off my coat and shoes.
It only takes a couple minutes to retreat to my room and change into gym shorts, a tank, and trainers then jog down the steps to the in-home gym that resides next to my playroom in the fully furnished basement. I’m setting up my first rack in no time and sweating within moments of beginning.
I love my gym, with its thickly padded flooring in a dark grey, and the plain, white, utilitarian walls. The rows of machines I own is impressive, and I know how to use each one of them to their peak designed performance. The muscles that ripple under my skin are testament to the amount of time I spend down here, lifting things up and setting them down over and over again.
With the crap in my mind, the workout will need to be to failure, or until my brain is mush and the only thing left of me is a sack of tired bones that will hopefully fall asleep without too much trouble.
I start bench presses, until my arms shake and my chest burns, then move to weighted squats, then butterflies, doing rep after rep until everything burns and the sweat drips off the tip of my nose, splattering on the tips of my sneakers.
Punishing myself I keep going until everything is numb, my body, my brain, my heart, if I even have one of those. I’m killing my body, just to end the thoughts in my head, the ones where I should have, could have, but didn’t. It isn’t like me to not just take what I want. I’ve never held back before, and it’s pissing me off that when it counts, I’m doing it now.
As I press the weights, and grunt out my frustrations and pain, all I can think of is her and how badly I want her, even though I know nothing of her except that she’s with him. I guess that’s enough to make my hero complex kick in. It feels like more than that though, almost like an obsession. She’s in my mind all the time since the first night I saw her in that alley. And I’m pining over her, me, the man who always gets what he wants.
“Fuck.”
~~~
“You look like shit.” My V.P. and best friend Daniel says as I flop down in my chair behind the large desk in my office, rolling my eyes at the early morning disturbance.
“Yeah, you look stunning too.” I grumble at him, tossing my briefcase in the footwell of the desk, and clicking on the monitor of my computer.
“I always do.” He says, rubbing down the front of his navy suit jacket, brushing away imaginary dirt. “Maybe if you actually played at the club instead of staring at some chick with Tyler you’d relax a little bit.”
“Shut up.” I bark at him, turning away from him and his peering glance at my sharp tone.
The park outside is busy with people walking and running, and nannies pushing strollers. It’s a warm morning for winter, and everyone except me is out there taking advantage of it. I did ride the bike in this morning though and parked it myself. I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to ride. I was in a better frame of mind after some sleep, but Daniel is already changing that.
“Ooohhh, I hit a nerve.” He chuckles and sits down on one of the couches, crossing his legs, staring at me in the reflection of the glass I stare out of. “She something to you?”
“Not yet.”
“Ahhh. A conquest. Nice. Just don’t let her fuck up your mood while you’re here. I need you fully on board with us.”
“When have I ever let a woman affect my work?”
“Touché.” He laughs, leaning back with his arms relaxed over the back of the seat. “You ready for Miami?”
“Fuck yeah.”
Sighing I put my shoes up on the glass and push myself backwards, mimicking his relaxed posture, even though inside I feel anything but. I’m about to leave for my long-awaited trip tomorrow, and I still haven’t made a move with the woman I’m obsessing over. I don’t want to leave her here with him, without me around to swoop in if necessary.
I’ve already planned on returning to his window tonight, to watch over her, to make sure he doesn’t take it too far, but the reminder of my trip puts a damper on that plan. I need to pack, and to get the bike loaded up for shipping.
“Good. A little track time and some Florida sun will do you some good. You look like death warmed over.”
