Marie Harte - Working Out

“Talked,” she parroted. “About what? I just saw you eight hours ago.”

“Nine hours ago.”

She talked over him. “What do we have to talk about now?”

“Why won’t you go out with me?” he asked boldly.

She blinked. “Huh?”

Not the response he’d been hoping for. “I want to go out with you. On a date.”

“You want to have sex with me.”

“Well, that too. But I’d like to get to know you first.” He grinned, but she didn’t smile.

Her eyes narrowed. “Let’s lay it all out. You’ve been wanting to get me naked since day one.”

“Okay. Yeah.”

“You don’t deny it?”

“Why should I? You’re smokin’ hot. I’ve seen you for four straight months in nothing but tights and sports bras. Hell yeah, I want a shot at your body.” Why the hell did women have to make things difficult? He’d asked her out, flat out told her he wanted to know her better. And now he told the truth about wanting her. Shouldn’t she be flattered by his attention?

“That’s what I thought.” She sighed.

They stared at each other in silence, before he said, “You look tired.”

“Yeah? Well I had too many drinks last night, was forced to watch Avatar for the millionth time, and then woke up to you leering at me. I was also two seconds from being late to work. Now all I want to is to get in my comfy clothes and relax.”

She looked so worn down, and so damn cute. Mac’s heart felt funny, but he ignored it. Had to be the lust making him feel so weird around her all the time.

“Should I apologize for barging in?”

“Whatever.” She walked out of her heels and put herself another inch shorter than him.

“Don’t hit me.”

“Why?”

Mac closed the distance between them and dragged her into his arms.

“ Mac. ”

Finally. She said his name. He hugged her tight, taking comfort in the feel and scent of her. He hair smiled like wildflowers, and he had the insane thought he was hugging a fairy—a stacked fairy that could easily have starred in her own adult movies. “You looked like you needed this.”

She remained stiff for a moment, then eased into his embrace. Like a puppy wriggling to get more comfortable, she moved until her curves fit against the hard plane of chest. Just right.

“You are so bossy. And so warm,” she murmured.

He stroked her hair, amused and freaked out about this odd hug. Especially since he’d initiated it. “You have to do me a favor. Promise not to tell Shelby or Shane about this. A freakin’ hug. We should be rolling naked on the floor together by now.”

She laughed softly, and he ran his hands from her hair to her back, smoothing over her tense muscles. “I never agreed to have sex with you.”

“You should. Sex is a great stress reliever.”

“Yeah, well, according to the ladies at the gym, you would know.”

Oh hell. Maggie hadn’t meant to let that slip.

He pulled back to look at her, and damn him, but his eyes looked impossibly blue. “Don’t tell me you listen to the rumors at the gym?”

She blushed but didn’t turn away. “I can’t help it. Jameson’s Gym is like its own tiny universe. It’s hard not to hear that the great stud at the gym has slept with just about all the female members.”

Instead of being put in his place, Mac grinned. “Not Mrs. Hicks. I mean, I could have had her, but I didn’t want to piss off my uncle.”

Maggie couldn’t help her laugh. “Better not let him hear you say that. He’s way too young for her. Ida Hicks is ninety years old. Okay, so she’s the one woman you haven’t had sex with.”

“Please. There are a ton of women I’ve never been with.” He paused. “There’s you.”

A quiet settled between them, one that made her nervous…and aroused. The man got to her on every level. It just figured she’d been thinking about him all day and her traitor of a best friend had let him into her house.

“Right. There’s me.” She cleared her throat and tried to move away, but he wouldn’t let her. “Um, Mac? Let me go.”

“Since you said my name, okay.” He released her and stepped back looking smug.

This Mac Jameson she knew too well. “I say your name all the time.”

“When you’re not calling me a jerk, a dictator, or an asshole, you usually call me Jameson.” He crossed those incredible arms over his massive chest.

She refrained from fanning herself and planted her hands on her hips, wanting to appear strong, not swoony from the sight of his incredible body. “You are a jerk, a dictator and an asshole. Sometimes.”

“You’re just as bossy. You’re just prettier about it.” He grinned, and the flash of that smile melted her resolve to keep her distance. “For the record, I think I slept with maybe three women who work out at the gym, and the last one was months ago. Not my fault they have big mouths.”

A surge of jealousy struck her mute. Totally not how she wanted to feel about her boss . She cleared her throat. “Right. Let’s get back on track.”

“Oh, let’s.”

“Shelby let you into my apartment. You want to have sex with me, and you want to talk.”

“I want a date.”

That surprised her. “Why? If I agree to take off my clothes and let you screw me right now, will that end your pursuit? I mean, we both know what you really want, right?”

He blinked as he digested her words, and she had the satisfaction of knowing she’d thrown him for a loop.

In a low growl, he asked, “So you’d fuck me right here, right now, to get me off your case?”

“Sure. Why not?” God, she would. She really would. She’d been dancing around her attraction for four long months. She trusted Mac, well, not as a boyfriend, but as a man who would never force her or physically hurt her.

Not unless she wanted him to.

And there went another pair of panties.

“Damn.” He scrubbed his hair and took a surprising step back. “Tell you what. Go get comfortable and we’ll have that talk.”

Not what she’d expected to hear. “Excuse me?”

His familiar arrogance returned. “Did I stutter? Go put your hot little ass in comfortable clothes and get back here.”

She wished his bossiness didn’t arouse her so much. She grumbled as she walked away. “I’ll change because I want to change, not because you’re telling me what to do. It’s my freakin’ house.”

She heard him mutter something about annoying women but had a hard time getting over the fact that he liked the way she looked. He always called her hot or pretty or beautiful, words she’d been hearing her entire life. But when he said it, she actually believed it.

She returned moments later in clean panties, her favorite flannel pants, her comfy bra, a sweatshirt, and her fuzzy socks. Her relaxing and totally unappealing clothes. A pitiful defense, but if she felt unattractive, she prayed she could stop herself from jumping the man.

Maggie didn’t want to be another notch on his bedpost. And right now, aroused and excited, she feared she’d look without leaping. The notion of having an orgasm with Mac—no longer Jameson —had indeed become an obsession.

“Well? I’m here. Talk.” She glared at Mac sitting on her loveseat. He’d started a fire, and the place looked way too cozy not to get closer.

He patted the spot next to him. “Sit by me.”

She snorted. “My house. My rules.” She deliberately took a seat in the chair opposite the loveseat.

He sighed, rose to his formidable height, and crossed the room to loom over her.

“Did I stutter?” she mocked, repeating him from earlier.

He lifted her into his arms in one felled swoop.

“ Mac. ”