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I follow his command and look at him in the mirror’s reflection. Seeing him towering over me with his large hands on my shoulders, coupled with my lingering imagination from earlier, is doing unholy things to me.

As if he can read my thoughts, he trails his finger up my neck to the ponytail I just fixed, loops the thick rope of hair around his fist, and tugs, forcing my head up just slightly and exposing my neck.

“You want to know why I’m feeling conflicted?” He growls. “Just look at you. I’ve wanted you since the moment you stepped into this place, but I knew I’d be the worst man alive if I tried to get with a taken woman, let alone one who’s twenty years younger than me. Then you just disappear for over a month, and I tell myself it’s for the best, before you come back, alone and single and beautiful as ever. I really tried to reign myself in, but I just can’t seem to control myself around you. You have no fucking idea what you do to me.”

Well, here goes nothing. “I do understand, actually, because you do the same thing to me. I just . . . I can’t seem to stop thinking about you.”

In an instant, he pulls my ponytail back further so my face is lifted upwards, bends down over me, and takes my lips hungrily with his own. His tongue dips into my mouth, and I meet his probing stroke for stroke. Slowly, his hands trail over my shoulders and down my chest until he’s cupping my breasts over the thin sports bra and even thinner t-shirt. Every thought leaves my mind as his thumbs flicks over my nipples, making them harden through the fabric as his mouth claims mine.

“Fuck, Ivy,” he mutters when he finally pulls his lips away from mine. I’m grateful that I’m wearing black leggings, because I’m only getting wetter with every second he touches me. “We really shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I don’t care,” I breathe.

“Then this is your last chance to tell me to fuck off,” he says, his lips grazing against my neck as he bends down to me again.

I shake my head, signaling to him that that definitely won’t happen. If anything, I want him more than ever now.

He bends and reaches down. At first I think he’s going to touch my leg, but he doesn’t, and instead continues down under the seat. It’s then that I realize what he’s doing. He pulls up the small lever under the side of the seat I’m in, unlocking the mechanism within the machine and allowing the footholds and pads between my knees to separate. He pries apart the knee pads while still holding the lever, spreading my legs just barely past the point of a comfortable stretch. When he lets go of the lever, the mechanism locks, effectively keeping my legs spread. The weight is set high, much too high for me to pull my legs together like the exercise the machine is intended for. I’m essentially trapped in place with my legs spread wide.

When James sees this realization on my face in the mirror reflection, his lips twitch up in a cocky smile. He raises an eyebrow in a silent challenge, so I shoot a challenging stare right back to him. “Stay there,” he says, clearly amused by the fact that I don’t really have a choice as he turns and walks toward the door. I watch him in the mirror as he grabs a ring of keys and locks the glass double doors at the entrance.

He tosses the keys back on the desk and takes his time walking back to me. “What if someone comes to the doors?” I ask. “Anyone could just look in and see us.”

“Well then it’s a good thing I own this place and don’t really give a fuck,” he answers, entirely unbothered as he stands behind me again and trails his hands across my body.

I let out a shuddering breath as he lifts the hem of my shirt and pulls it over my head, his fingertips grazing my sides. One hand dips beneath my sports bra as he returns his attention to my sensitive nipple, pinching and rolling, sending fire through my veins. His other hand slides down, further, further, until he reaches the wet heat between my thighs. He tenses ever so slightly and lets out a low curse when he feels the evidence of the effect he’s had on me. Any bit of shame or reserve I may have had before is now gone.

His hand slips under the stretchy waistband of my leggings and beneath my underwear, and I revel in the feel of it, my eyes closed and my body in tune to his touch. His touch is light and exploratory first, giving me just enough friction to need more but not enough to satisfy me. I whimper softly as his fingers expertly begin to circle my clit.

“Open your eyes for me, baby,” he coaxes.

I do as he asks, but there’s nowhere to look except directly into the mirror spanning the wall in front of us. As much as I feel confident in my own skin, watching him watch me in such a vulnerable position makes me squirm. My eyes close again as he adds more pressure to my clit while still lightly flicking his thumb back and forth over my nipple.

He lightens his touch. “Eyes open, Ivy,” he warns.

I open my eyes again, catching his smoldering gaze in our reflection. His expression is hungry, almost animalistic, as he watches us — watchesme. He presses his fingers against me again, my clit throbbing as his pace remains quick and steady. My core tightens as I feel the pressure build inside me, and James seems to notice that I’m getting close.

I’m on the edge, struggling to keep my eyes open, knowing that he’ll stop if I close them again. He’s staring down at me as he touches me, and he tweaks my nipple just to the point of pain at exactly the right time. “Keep your eyes open,” he warns as I come undone beneath him, not bothering to hold back my cries of pleasure. I move to squeeze my thighs together, a force of habit, but my legs aren’t strong enough against the weight on the machine. I’m spread open for him James’ facial hair brushes against my neck as his smoky voice fills every corner of my mind. “Look how beautiful you are when you come for me, baby.” I writhe against him as his fingers slow but don’t stop, the sensitivity of my comedown almost too much to bear. Finally, he stops.

James leans over, plants a soft, tender kiss on my neck, then pulls at the lever under the seat to allow me to close my legs again. My breathing is heavy as he hands me my t-shirt and watches as I stand and pull it over my head.

“That was . . . Wow.” It’s all I can say — I have no other words.

James chuckles. “That definitely waswow,” he jokes, poking fun at my not-so-eloquent choice of words. I immediately notice the strain at the front of his shorts and let my eyes linger a moment too long before looking back up to his face. He shakes his head and answers my unspoken question before I can ask. “Not tonight. Go home and get some rest. I’ll see you soon, I hope.”

I nod, following him to the front doors so he can unlock them to let me out. “Thank you for everything tonight. And I’m sorry again about all the drama,” I say as he holds the door open for me.

“No, thankyou. And it wasn’t your fault. See you tomorrow?”

I answer with a grin. “Definitely.”

As I drive home, away from the gym, the entire night seems more and more surreal. By the time I get home, I’m half-convinced I’ve gone crazy and imagined the entire thing. But I didn’t.

After being unable to get James off my mind since I returned to the gym, he touched me in ways I never could have imagined.

And I fucking loved it.

CHAPTER FIVE

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