Gym Junkie - Page 75

He pulls out of my ass and grabs both of my hip bones in his hands to slam me hard, so hard and fast. He pushes me into the mattress as he takes what he needs from my body.

I feel like I am having an out of body experience.

This is too good, too much, too fucking hard.

“Ah.”

He slams me one, two, three times, and holds himself deep, coming in a rush deep inside of me.

His body begins to quiver and he falls over me, dragging me to the mattress.

And then he kisses me, hits touch soft, tender, and loving. The exact opposite of the beating his cock just gave me. He pulls out and rolls me over so I’m underneath him. I’m like a rag doll in his arms. He is completely in control of my body. If he wanted to take me again now, he could.

He kisses me again and again before he pulls back to look at me. “You want to know something, Tully Pocket?” he whispers as he pushes the hair back from my face.

“What?”

“I’m feeling pretty fucking clingy and attached myself.”

I pull him close. “Glad to know I’m not in this alone.”

I wake to the feel of Brock’s lips on the back of my neck. “Hmm.” I can feel his morning glory up against my behind.

He rolls me onto my back and kisses me. “I’ve got to go to work early, Pock.”

“Okay,” I mumble quietly.

“You don’t have your car here.”

I frown, realising he’s right. “Ugh,” I groan.

“Just stay here and I’ll get you a cab for later.”

I sit up slowly. “No. It’s fine.” I moan as I get out of bed. “I’ll go now.”

He disappears into the bathroom and I hear the shower turn on. “You getting in?”

“It’s too early for showers.”

“Grumpy,” he calls back.

I sit on the edge of the bed as I try to get my bearings. God, what time is it? It must be, like, five or five thirty at the latest. The sun has only just started to rise.

Five seconds later I hear the shower turn off and Brock walks back into the room with a black towel wrapped around his waist.

“How’s my little Come Pocket this morning?” he asks chirpily, walking over to his wardrobe area. “My boys swimming around well in there?”

I scrunch up my face in disgust. “For fuck’s sake, Brock, what is with your nicknames? Don’t call me that.”

He chuckles, and when he comes out dressed, he kisses me and takes me in his arms. “I have drinks tonight with my work friends,” he tells me.

“Okay.”

“Do you want to come?”

I frown. “You want me to meet your work friends?”

“You’ll meet them one day, anyway. May as well get on with it.”

I watch him as he moves to walk around his room all chirpy and shit.

“Okay.”

He looks through his drawer, taking out his gym clothes for after work. “I thought I might take next week off, too.”

“Really?” I frown.

“Yeah.” He walks over and kisses me again. “I kind of thought I might like to take my girl to Hawaii.”

“What? Who are you, and what have you done with Brock?”

He shrugs casually. “Seems only fair. You did cancel your trip because of me.”

I smirk at the progress we seemed to have made. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly. Now, get in the car or I’m going to be late.”

“I don’t have any clothes on.”

“Find some,” he calls back to me as he disappears down the stairs. “You have five seconds before I leave without you.”

I smile to myself.

Brock Marx. The only man I know who can make me swoon with the most unromantic lines I’ve ever heard.

“Hurry, wench,” he calls from downstairs.

I giggle as I throw my clothes on. “Shut up!” I call back.

“Don’t make me come up there and get you. I am the boss of us, you know.”

I giggle. “Like hell.”

“Right, that’s it.” I hear him running up the stairs two at a time, and I try to run away into the bathroom, but he crash tackles me to the bed making me squeal with laughter.

“You’re going in my car naked.” He tries to pick me up and throw me over his shoulder. I fight him off, but he quickly drags me back beneath him, and the two of us fall serious. I can feel the erection in his pants. He flexes it against my stomach.

“I thought you were running late?” I smirk.

“With the way you feel, baby, I’ll come in two minutes flat.”

He unzips his jeans, holds my leg back, and he slides home.

“What am I going to do with you, Brock Marx?” I whisper up at him.

“Shut up and fuck me.”

Chapter 15

Brock

Date of birth?

I frown as I stare at the online booking form on my computer screen.

Hmm, I didn’t think of that one. I don’t even know her date of birth. I blow out a deep breath and dial her number. It rings a few times until I eventually hear her beautiful, husky voice. “Hi,” she breathes.

Tags: T.L. Swan Romance
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