His Love - Cassandra Dee Page 0,18
What I mean is actually hanging out with her, and spending time getting to know the girl like I’m a real boyfriend, and not some asshole.
It’s insane. Because what the hell am I doing? I’ve got a company to run. I’ve got women to meet, and a social scene that craves my presence. And yet for the last month, all I’ve been doing is sating myself in Kitty’s company. She’s sweetness personified and I feel like I’m drunk on honey.
What the hell? Usually I like variety. I like a different flavor of woman every day of the week. But lately, all I do is fall asleep with my arms wrapped around the nubile teen, inhaling the scent of her sweet hair while blissfully drifting off into the deep.
And now, I’m showing her part of the real me, the one that’s not just out there for show. Because the gym is my sanctuary, I use it to let go of the stress of the day, to let my mind go blank after long hours at work. Oh yeah, I’m forty-five, and you have to work hard to keep up a bod like mine. But again, it’s not just about looking good. Sure, exercising helps keep my appearance sharp. My chest is muscled and thick, while my abs are perfectly cut and defined. But the gym also relieves stress, and against my better judgment, I’d brought my best girl here.
“So these are the weights you use?” Kitty giggled, trailing her finger along some silver-colored dumb bells.
“Naw, honey,” I ground out. “Those are fifteen pounders, for the ladies only. The ones I use are over here,” I pointed.
Kitty gasped then because I was gesturing to a set of heavy as fuck, charcoal colored iron rods that looked like they could beat the hell out of a horse. Shit, you probably could kill someone with these things, do some real damage.
The brunette giggled again.
“Show me?” she whispered. “Or are we going to bother someone?”
I looked around. The gym I belong to is high-end, this isn’t one for the masses with crowds of sweaty, flabby people. This place is where models go, where everyone has a personal trainer, and where the membership fee is in the four figures. So yeah, there weren’t many people around.
“Naw, we’re not going to bother anyone,” I grunted. “It’s fine.”
And lifting one of the larger weights in a massive palm, I squatted.
“See baby,” I demonstrated, holding my arm out stiffly. “See, it’s the downward action that gets you. Releasing after a pump can actually be harder than the pump itself, it’s all about control and a smooth flow.”
I figured I was talking over the brunette’s head, but Kitty smiled easily.
“Oh I know Luke,” she said breezily. “I come to the gym too, you know.”
I blinked. What the fuck? Ballerinas are in great shape because they’re athletes with incredible stamina, but most of the girls don’t work out because they don’t want to get bulky. They don’t want to ruin the slim-line figure that fasting and hard work and discipline have created.
Reading my mind, Kitty shrugged.
“I have to work out a lot,” she said, a little too careless. “I have to come because I’ve got junk in the trunk, and it’s got to be toned and firm, I can’t have it jiggling everywhere.”
Realization dawned in my brain. Of course. That’s what I love about my girl. Because Kitty’s curvy for a dancer, but it looks fantastic. This was a female who was athletic with luscious, thick thighs, strong calves and a toned rump. Kitty works hard for her body, and I appreciated it all the more.
“I know, sweet thing,” I grunted, eyeing that figure hungrily. The brunette was dressed in a pink sports bra and tiny shorts that showed off her physique. Shit, it did more than that. The female was flaunting it right in front of my face, making me ravenous in public.
But there were words to say, and I was determined to get them out.
“You look good, baby girl,” I grunted. “The work at the gym’s paid off. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. In fact, have you thought about putting on more weight? Like twenty pounds or so?”
Kitty shook her head, smiling at me exasperatedly.
“Luke, are you crazy? Of course not. I can’t put on twenty pounds, they’d kick me out of the troupe. I’m already big enough as is, Miss Lane is always telling me to eat less, or at least switch to nutrition shakes instead of