Stoking the Fire (Salus Security #1) - Teodora Kostova Page 0,1
man, I see that he’s untying his boxing gloves. He throws them into a bag, grabs a bottle of water, and drains half of it in one go, his throat bobbing as he swallows. Sweat keeps trickling down his face and getting lost into the collar of his t-shirt. I’m overwhelmed by the sudden urge to go to him, rip the damn t-shirt off, and lick every ridge and muscle on his body.
My daydream is cut short when he throws the bottle into the bag, hoists it over his shoulder, and starts walking toward the door. I panic. If he leaves now, I may never see him again. And that will be very unfortunate.
I wait for him to walk out before I climb off the machine. A quick scan of the gym finds Adri on the rowing machine. He’s watching me as if he knows exactly what I’m about to do. I wave at him and indicate I’m going to get a drink, then quickly walk out the door.
The changing rooms are down the corridor. When I step inside, it’s quiet. And seems like it’s empty. But when I listen closely, I can hear the water running in one of the shower cubicles behind the lockers. Images of that gorgeous man naked and wet in the shower invade my brain before I can stop them.
The water cuts off, making me suddenly nervous. My hastily put together plan starts to feel a little foolish. I scramble to unlock my locker before he comes back so that I’m not just standing there in the middle of the changing room, lusting after the sound of his shower.
I hear him when he approaches and chance a glance from behind my locker door. Jesus fucking Christ. He’s only wearing a towel around his waist, all that smooth skin on display, and I can’t help but follow a water droplet as it slides down his chest, getting lost in the sprinkling of dark hair. When he turns around, I bite my tongue to stop a groan forming in my throat. His whole back is inked, harsh black lines weaving together to form a gorgeous work of art, and in the middle of it, there’s a scorpion, its tail raised high as if ready to strike.
As if sensing me staring at him, he turns to fully face me. I look away, taking a deep breath to steady myself. There’s something about this man that’s making my stomach flutter with nerves, but the yearning inside me is too strong to ignore.
I realize I’m just standing there with my locker open, so I pull my t-shirt over my head and toss it into my bag, pretending I’m also here to change rather than stalk him.
“Nice ink,” he says.
His voice feels like an invisible string pulling me toward him. My very own siren song.
“Thanks,” I say, inching out from behind the locker door, my eyes instinctively traveling down my arms and following the lines of my tattoos. “I like yours, too.”
He smiles at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Thanks.”
We stand there awkwardly, looking at each other. I clear my throat. “I saw you boxing in there,” I say, jerking my chin toward the gym. “Those were some impressive moves you’ve got.”
He’s still smiling, but a shadow crosses his dark gaze, making it even darker. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”
“Oh? What do you do?”
He pauses, his gaze assessing me. “I was in the army for eight years. And now I’m running a private security firm.”
My eyes widen. “Wow. Impressive.” He shrugs. Remembering my manners, I quickly add, “Thank you for your service.”
He nods, turning away. Then he moves to unfasten the towel from around his waist, and I nearly swallow my tongue. It suddenly feels incredibly intrusive to be staring at him while he’s naked, so I turn back toward my locker, pretending to look for something in my bag. When I next turn around, he’s put a pair of worn-out jeans and is applying deodorant. I realize that in about a minute, he’ll walk out that door, and I’ll probably never see him again. The likelihood of meeting someone completely by chance in a city as big and crowded as New York is practically zero.
“So, um –” I begin, clearing my throat. “I was wondering –” He looks up to meet my eyes, and there’s a faraway look in them that wasn’t there before. He blinks, and it’s gone. “Do you give private lessons by any chance? In boxing,