Page 16 of Guarded Hearts
Every time I closed my eyes, her lips were pressed to my ear, her longing-filled words flooding my senses. Had I said “yes,” would I feel better or worse right now?
Last time, I went along with her seduction, and she froze me out afterward. I put a stop to it this time—how I managed to turn her down, I still wasn’t sure—and I was convinced things between us were going to be even worse.
I’d yet to lay eyes on her today, but that encounter was coming. In a haze of blood rushing to the wrong head, I’d suggested I needed another teacher. I wassuchan idiot.
“You need a spot?” Tyler asked from across the room.
We’d taken to working out together every day when I wasn’t on active bodyguard duty. I considered cutting out the weight lifting when I said “yes” to the dance. But I needed this time.
All my spare attention should be devoted to getting the right hip sway. I closed my eyes and ground my teeth at the reminder of my hands on Alyssa’s waist, the sensual, rhythmic movement of her hips. Every sway of her hips made me think about how it would feel to have her on top of me, the gentle rock as she slid up and down my shaft. I’d gotten so hard watching her and touching her. All my willpower was consumed already when she turned in my arms and her lips sought mine.
“No spot.” I hefted the weights over my head like they weighed nothing. When I was done these reps, I’d add more weight. Going into the next dance session, I’d be too exhausted to care whether I was doing it right, whether her body drew me to her like a moth to a flame.
I’d never experienced such intense lust. My relationship with Zoya was based on friendship and affection. There was a lot of laughter and teasing between us. The sex had been good, but it had never felt out of control.
This thing with Alyssa was overwhelming. She was in my blood, running through like oxygen. I didn’t want to tease her or laugh with her. I wanted to rip off her clothes, feast on her body. Satiate my hunger. It felt primal.
Dangerous. Our connection was dangerous. Men who felt like this did dangerous things.
“You all right? You seem a bit tense.” Tyler’s voice was filled with concern.
I didn’t want to talk about Alyssa, even if she was the only thing I could think about. “Fine. I’m fine.”
“You know, if you’re stressed about the dance, I can talk to Mia. It was pretty flipping fast. I—there’s no way I would ever master that, let alone in three months.” The clank of the free weights connecting bouncedaround the room, and then Tyler was standing beside me. “Or if there’s anything else going on… Happy to talk, that’s all I’m saying.”
Could I ask Tyler if these urges were normal? They were so intense they scared me. I’d slept with other women before Zoya and after. Those encounters happened without too much consideration. The women were there and interested in me, and I hadn’t objected. Easy. Sex was easy.
In some ways, the same thing happened with Alyssa too. Except I spent months memorizing her curves, listening for the sound of her voice, reveling in her delighted laugh whenever I was lucky enough to catch it. For me, there was a connection before we collided in that curtained room. Wasthatthe difference?
No matter what, I wouldn’t become one of those men who let their passions overrule their common sense. With Alyssa, it would be so easy for lust to lead and consume.
While I felt stupid for asking her for another dance instructor, maybe my first instinct was right. She was gorgeous, and I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted any woman, but desire wasn’t a solid foundation for a relationship, assuming she’d even want one.
If I wanted casual, I could have had affairs hundreds of times already—a woman in every city, maybe more than one. My relationship with Zoya ruined any chance of those sorts of pursuits. Without feelings, sex was pleasurable but hollow, empty.
I didn’t know exactly what I was seeking, but it was more than random women and less than this lightning bolt with Alyssa.
Who would choose this soul-burning desire? My love for Zoya had never been painful until she died.
“I’ll take your lack of response as a ‘no.’” Tyler’s tone was wry as he headed back to his own workout. “You have to meet Mia and Alyssa in ten, right?”
I glanced at the clock on the wall and set down my weights. I didn’t know how many reps I’d completed, but I wasn’t tired enough, wasn’t sore enough to use what I did in here as an excuse for poor dancing. After heaving off the bench, I added more weights to each side of the bar.
“You know,” Tyler said from across the room, “I used to work out like that too.”
“Oh?” I eyed the numbers and calculated the weight. Another twenty-five pounds on each side might cause me to fail. Perhaps I needed Tyler to spot for this last set. Drained—I wanted to be drained.
“Yeah, I was grappling with my feelings for Mia. I figured if I made myself tired enough, my emotions would be easier to handle.”
Their situation wasn’t like mine. At the time, they were dealing with a surprise baby, their different lifestyles, Mia’s upbringing, and their age gap. I knew early on they were well suited to each other. Someone only needed to be in a room with them for a little while to observe their connection, the way he took care of her, the way she looked at him like a flower turning itself to the sun.
“Why do you do it now?” I settled under the bar.
“Because—” Tyler came over and stood at my shoulders, ready to spot without being asked. “She likes my muscles, and I like her happy.” He grinned. “And it’s still good stress relief. Her life—our life—has balls in the air constantly, and you can’t drop any of them.”
I grunted as I struggled to get the bar off the rack, and my arms shook when I brought it low to my chest before pressing up again. “Not me,” I said. “I do it to be strong.”
“Well,” Tyler said with a chuckle, “that’s a shit ton of weight, so I think it’s working.”
