Big Bad Boys A Romance Collection - Penny Wylder Page 0,119

like he's in the zone, doing his routine. The last thing I need is to be sidetracked right now anyway. Which he will definitely do.

Phade is breathing heavily, letting out a quick exhale with each punch. He dances around the bag, never taking his eyes off the target. I spy on him for a few more seconds, before turning to leave.

“You want to try?” he asks, causing me to stop in surprise.

But I don't answer, I'm not sure what to say. I didn't think he knew I was here. He looked so preoccupied, so caught up in his workout that I thought I could get away undetected.

“Well? Do you want to try, or are you just going to stand there like a stalker and watch?”

“Sorry,” I say, walking in his direction. “I'm not stalking you, I heard the music and thought someone forgot to shut it off yesterday. I was going to do it, but then I realized you were here.”

“That wasn't my question.” Landing another punch on the bag, he stops and glances up at me. I can see in his face that he's waiting for an answer. Except, I don't have one to give right then. Every word, every letter, it all suddenly vanishes from my brain.

It's as if just the sight of him all sweaty and shirtless disrupts how the nerves fire in my skull. Crickets are chirping and tumbleweeds are rolling across my thoughts. “I. . . I'm not. . . I don't—”

Phade wipes the back of his arm across his forehead as he stands up straight. I'm frozen in place, unable to speak because I'm mesmerized by his body. His chest is lifting and lowering rapidly, making his abs contract and relax over and over.

The muscles in his chest flex as he opens and closes his hands at his sides. Stretching his arms across his body, he rocks his head on his shoulders. Everything about this man is invading my brain, making it difficult to think straight.

Tracing the steppingstones down his stomach, I swallow hard as I reach where his dick is hidden away. There's an outline of his length against his shorts, his tip plump and thick, perfectly defined under the fabric.

Clearing my throat, I dart my eyes to the ceiling. “What was your question again?” I ask, trying to get myself together. “I didn't hear you.”

“Do you want to try?” Fanning out his arm, he points at the bag. “I can teach you.”

“I know how, I just don't want to.”

“Is that right?” he asks, a small grin playfully tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, that is right.”

“Then show me.” Taking a long step to the side, Phade holds out his arm, inviting me in. “Unless you're all talk.”

Waving my hand, I shake my head. “I'm not all talk.” Looking myself over, I joke, “I'm just not exactly dressed for this.”

“Well, I've got a super easy fix for that. Just take off your clothes.” He says it so smoothly that I actually think about it for a single second.

Cocking a brow, I tilt my head. “Yeah, I don't think so.”

“That's too bad, it would have been fun.” Phade grabs his hand and starts to bend his fingers, cracking the knuckles. “What brings you in so early?” he asks.

“I can ask you the same thing.” Slowly, I take steps forward. I'm watching him cautiously, keeping my distance.

The closer I get, the more my body reacts. The surface of my skin is getting warm, it's hot and flushed, and my muscles start to tingle. Stopping, I take a step back, leaning over and resting my elbow on a small ledge of the wall.

“Afraid I'm going to bite you?” His smirk widens as he licks his lips.

Shaking my head, I roll my eyes. “Are you always this full of yourself?”

“Maybe. Why shouldn't I be?”

“Because it's not a good look,” I say, turning to sit my back against the wall. “A little humility can go a long way you know.”

“Yeah, and sometimes you need to embrace the hand God gave you.” Twisting back to the bag, Phade hits it hard. “Why should I be humble when he's graced me with all of this? Shouldn't I enjoy what I have?”

“And what are you going to do when it's gone?”

“It's not going anywhere.”

“It won't be there forever,” I say matter of fact.

“No, but I've got years before that'll happen.”

“Is that what you think?” I ask, veering my stare.

Phade stops and looks at me over his shoulder. “It's what I