Lord Have Mercy (Southern Gentleman 2)

I blinked.

“You…what?”

“I’ve had a thing for your sister for a while, but I never made a move because you guard her like a junkyard dog would his turf. Then she starts working here, and you all of a sudden loosen your reins on Carmichael and start focusing in on Camryn. Honestly, I wanted a chance with your sister, so I pushed you a little in the direction I wanted you to go by flirting with Camryn just a bit,” he answered.

That made me mad.

“You know that Camryn has a thing for you, right?” I wondered.

Croft shrugged. “She might’ve. Might not have. I don’t know. I’ve never really understood Camryn, and since she was my little sister’s best friend, it’s hard to look at her in any other light than ‘off limits.’”

I could see that, I guessed.

“Treat my sister badly, and I’ll rip your balls off and make you swallow them.” I paused. “And don’t fuck around with Camryn anymore. I don’t want you to hurt her.”

Croft looked serious all of a sudden. “I won’t hurt her.”

“Won’t hurt who?” Camryn asked.

Croft answered before I could. “Carmichael.”

Camryn’s face lit with a smile. “She has a huge crush on you.” Her face went wonky. “You hurt her, and I’ll rip your balls off and run over them with my car.”

Croft’s face went slack. “Yes, ma’am.”

Camryn didn’t say another word as she walked into the gym and toward the shower.

Croft’s face was laughing when he said, “See? Weird.” He paused. “She’s perfect for you.”

And that wasn’t the first time, or the last time, that thought had occurred to me that night.

After Croft left, I set the alarm and headed to the back room where the shower was located, intending to show Camryn exactly where everything was.

Only, as I arrived, the shower was already on, and Camryn was stripped down to her underwear and sports bra, looking so good in all her sweaty glory.

She blinked and reached for the sweaty shirt that she’d dropped on the ground as I’d come into the bathroom.

“You know,” she said conversationally. “It’s polite to knock…and this is the girl’s bathroom, right?”

“It’s my personal bathroom,” I felt it prudent to say. “But by all means, please take your shower first because you’re more important.”

She rolled her eyes and dropped the shirt, seemingly uncaring about her semi-naked state any longer.

I about swallowed my tongue as I caught a look at her ass—her bare ass.

She was wearing a thong.

And her goddamn sports bra was doing a piss poor job at keeping her adequately covered.

Honestly, I was surprised she could work out in that thing at all with how flimsy it was.

I couldn’t help myself. I had to ask. It was a compulsion that I couldn’t seem to stop myself from saying.

“What exactly is that scrap of fabric supposed to be?” I gestured to my own pecs. “It doesn’t look like it offers you much protection.”

She pointed to the shirt on the ground. “That’s what that one right there is for.”

I looked at the shirt in confusion. “What?”

“It’s a tight, compressing shirt. It helps hold and suck everything in. My boobs hurt today because of…well, anyway. My boobs couldn’t take another day of a compressing bra. I had to wear something that wasn’t going to kill me,” she explained.

“Why do your boobs hurt?” I asked curiously.

Why was I talking to her while she was half naked, standing in front of a shower that was pouring steam out, and not letting her get on with said shower?

She pulled her bra down slightly, showing off the top swells of her breasts, and I saw the angry line of bruising that trailed all the way across her chest.

“The barbell,” I muttered.

“Yep,” she said. “And the tighter bras are like torture.”

That explained why she didn’t take her shirt off today.

Honestly, I’d been quite bummed that she hadn’t. That was quite a lot of excitement for me, and I was looking more and more forward to it each and every time she came.

I cleared my throat. “After your shower, I have some ointment that can go on it that’ll help with the bruising.”

She blew out a breath, and I tried not to let my gaze trail down the length of her body. Tried not to look at the swell of her ass and wonder what it would feel like pressed up against the saddle of my hips.

Holy shit but the woman had a smoking body.

It wasn’t perfectly toned like I was used to—or preferred when it came to women—but the curves more than made up for it. God, taking her from behind? I’d have something goddamn perfect to hold onto with the rounded globes of her ass cheeks.

“That’d be nice, thank you,” she said softly. “It was killing me all day at school today. Swear to God. I had to break up a fight, and I thought I was going to die when one of those asshole kids elbowed me in Batman.”