Sweat beads from every pore of my body.
As I make my way to the steam room clad in only a towel, I shake my head. Only a glutton for punishment like me would head to the steam room to sweat it out even more after an hour of hot yoga. But this gym costs me an arm and a leg every month, and I will damn well get my money’s worth.
A cloud of steam hits my face the moment I open the door. I shut my eyes to avoid the inevitable burning sensation. Two steps forward and I crash into someone.
“Crap, sorry!” I immediately step back
I open my eyes to a glistening chest displaying a hefty amount of hard muscle. When I glance up, a familiar face greets me. Square jaw, crystal blue eyes, five o’clock shadow, short dark hair.
I don’t know his name, but I sure as hell know the face and body of this muscle man. I’ve seen him a million times in the weightlifting area of the gym.
“It’s alright,” he says with a chuckle. “My apologies. I was trying to adjust the temperature dial, and it’s right next to the door. I shouldn’t have been standing there.”
One of his hands falls to the white towel wrapped around his waist. It’s like a perfect frame for the Adonis belt lining either side of his stomach. I blink in an attempt to control my urge to gawk.
“No worries,” I say.
I smile, thankful for the coed steam room that’s empty, save the two of us. God bless this progressive, over-priced gym.
I choose a seat in the corner and take stock of the exquisite form in front of me while he messes with the dial. I’ve never seen such perfectly broad shoulders or a back so well defined. I could grate ginger on those deep, hard lines. Among other things.
He twists his torso to face me. “It is too hot for you?”
Oh, muscle man. You don’t even know the half of it.
I smile away the filthy image looping through my head. “It’s perfect.”
The corner of his mouth lifts into a soft smile as he walks over to sit across from me. He stretches his hand out to me. I shake it in return.
“I’m Jason,” he says.
“Stella. Nice to meet you.”
His calloused palm tickles mine. I can’t help but flash him a grin in return. For a full five seconds, we do nothing other than smile and stare at each other. The uninterrupted eye contact causes a flurry of butterflies in my stomach.
He finally lets go. “I feel like I’ve seen you around here quite a bit.”
“Yeah, you look familiar too.”
He shrugs, resting both hands on the tops of his thighs. “I’m a certified gym rat. I’m guessing you are too.”
His eyes quickly scan me from head to toe. “I can tell.”
The compliment he pays me sends a jolt of electricity through my body. I take a moment to process it all. Prolonged handshake. Lingering stares. Endless smiles. This is some hardcore flirting—and I can’t get enough.
I wipe away the film of sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. A silent triumphant squeal echoes in my mind.
“Too hot yet?” Jason says.
“Actually yeah. Here, I can adjust the temp.”
I shoot up and take a step toward the dial, but trip over an uneven crack in the stone floor. Before I fall, Jason catches me by the waist. Our faces are maybe an inch apart, our mouths are open. We’re so close I can feel his hot breath hit my lips, my tongue.
“You okay?” he asks in a low whisper.
Instead of answering, I stare into his ocean blue eyes. Neither of us blinks or speaks. I wait for him to release me, to set me back on my side of the steam room and fall back into his seat, a respectable distance away.
None of that happens. His hold on me remains. I couldn’t be happier because it’s the green light I was hoping I’d somehow get. Time to see if I can move this flirting into something more.
My hands grasp his forearms. They’re just as hard as I thought they’d be.
I lean forward an inch, letting my lips fall against his.
He bites his lip. “You sure?”
He kisses back instantly. I’m on his lap in no time. Our tongues gently tangle against one another until we’re both gasping for air. Every inch of my body is on fire as I straddle his lap. His hands roam over me like he’s trying to memorize my body with his hands.
“The door,” I say when find the strength to pull away from his mouth. “What if someone walks in?”
Jason leads me back to his mouth with a hand on my cheek. After a long, heavenly kiss, he gently lifts me off his lap and sets me to the side.
He walks to the door, slides off his towel, loops it around the handle, then strings it through a nearby metal bar. I assume it’s for people to grab so they don’t trip. I don’t give it much more thought, as I’m too preoccupied with checking out his killer backside.
He secures the towel into a knot, flips the dial to a cooler temperature, and turns back to me. My eyes fall to the impressive hardness between his legs. My stomach flips as I drink in every inch of this flawless full-frontal.
“How’s that?” he says with a smile.
“Works for me, muscle man. Now get back over here.”