Page 7 of His Candy Cane (Sweet Treats 1)

One eyebrow rises and a dark flush descends on his sharp cheekbones.

“Oh, is that so?” he growls.

“It is,” I chirp merrily. But then I look around with confusion. “But where is everyone? Why isn’t anyone here? Is today a slow day or something?”

After all, the gym is completely empty, and I don’t hear a sound, which means there isn’t another soul hiding behind the weights or the towering stack of mats.

Patrick merely grins.

“It’s empty because we’re having a personal one-on-one session. Did you expect something different?”

I nod, my brows knitting together.

“Well, yes. I mean, there are tons of lockers in the locker room, and I thought that while we were having our personal training session, other people would be using the gym. You know, running, lifting weights, et cetera.”

Patrick merely shrugs and grins.

“Yeah, that’s what happens in regular gyms, but my gym is different. We’re an elite, exclusive outfit, and as a result, it’s just me and my client a lot of the time. When we’re working out, there’s no one else present, which a lot of customers appreciate because they value their privacy. We do have some open hours each afternoon when members can come in to exercise on their own, but for the most part, it’s just one on one discipline.”

My heart begins racing.

“So for the entire fifty minutes it’ll just be you and me?” I ask quizzically.

He grins, blue eyes gleaming.

“That’s right, Maisie. Why, are you scared?”

Immediately, I stand up straighter.

“Of course I’m not! I’m just asking because I’m surprised.”

He grins, flashing bright white teeth, and if I’m not mistaken, the air between us is pulsing with tension … sexual tension to be exact.

“Good,” he says. “Then let’s get started. On your back,” he commands. “Now.”

I stare at him, and then at the mat on the floor he’s laid out. It’s blue, flat, and beckoning to me. I hot shiver runs over my body and my knees tremble slightly. Oh my gosh, things are already starting to get steamy between me and my hunky personal trainer, and I can’t wait.

5

Patrick

Maisie stands there for a moment, her breasts trembling.

“What are you waiting for?” I growl. “I said, get on the mat.”

She gasps, flashing me a look with her big brown eyes, but then she gets down like I’ve ordered. The curvy girl lies on her back when her knees up in a vee with her sneakered feet flat on the ground.

“Like this?” she asks in a tremulous voice.

I can barely answer because she’s so gorgeous spread out before me. Her curves are hilly and lush, with those giant breasts like fluffy mounds balanced against her chest. I’d love to pop one out of her sports bra right now and suckle on the tip, but that would be unprofessional. After all, I’m here to help her lose weight.

But the truth is that Maisie doesn’t need to lose weight because she’s perfect as she is. Many times, when women drop weight they don’t realize that the structures that keep them looking feminine are going to go right down the drain. For example, their boobs will sag and they’ll develop saddle bags on their hips from excess loose flesh. In fact, if I were going to have heart-to-heart with Maisie right now, I’d ask her not to diet. I’d recommend that she gain some weight in order to fully flesh out her figure, and to make her look even more womanly. Twenty more pounds sounds just about right.

But I can’t say that right now as the plush girl looks up at me, breathing shallowly through her nose.

“What next?” she murmurs.

I growl, getting down on my knees next to her.

“We’re going to do some stretching because before you work out, you should always stretch. Otherwise, the risk of injury is higher, and you could seriously pull a muscle.”

I can feel her temperature skyrocket as those large breasts quiver.

“Oh yes, of course,” she babbles a little. “Stretching. Definitely.”

With that, she pulls one knee up to her chest, squashing her generous bosom with the back of one thigh. I almost groan and my hardness twitches as her creamy white flesh bulges from the side of her sports bra. Holy shit, this woman is bursting out of her clothes, and I’ve never wanted to see a woman nude as badly as I want to see Maisie. She must look like a goddess: wanton, fleshy and fertile.

After all, I’m done with hardbodies. They come into my gym, with their stiff-as-rock muscles and eight-pack abs. But the thing is that women who look like that don’t appeal to me because they almost resemble men. I like females who are curvy and plush, with moist bits and giggly laughs. I like them soft and generous, with sweet smiles and a welcoming look in their eyes. By contrast, the alpha females who work out at Mr. P’s often have low voices from testosterone shots and bronzed muscles that feel like soda cans when you touch them.

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