Knocked Up by Her Brother's Enemy

4

The next day I go over to Mac’s gym. It’s such a nice building—not something I would expect to house a gym. Looks more like place you would find a doctor’s office or surgical center. Inside, Mac stands in the middle of the huge room. There are clusters of expensive-looking equipment. Not things I’m familiar with. No bench presses or elliptical machines. No free weights or yoga mats.

Everything is new and high-tech. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what they are for. Needless to say, the place is bigger and far nicer than anything Nathan could afford. Maybe he was right after all. Could Mac really have done all this just to put Nathan out of business? He certainly has the money to do it. With all the endorsements from major companies like Nike and Spaulding, and a multimillion dollar signing bonus, I’m sure he has the means to end Nathan.

“What do you think?” Mac says proudly, waving his arms in a grand gesture.

“It’s a lot.” My heart suddenly feels heavy for Nathan. He’d saved for years and spent everything he had to buy his gym and make it the success it is today. The thought of that being ripped away from him is devastating alone, but the thought of it being done by the man I’m sleeping with is unforgivable.

I don’t want to ask, but I have to know. “Did you open this gym to ruin my brother? He seems to be under that impression.” And honestly, so am I now that I’m seeing it all.

Mac’s face softens and he says, “I know your brother hates me and always has, but the feeling isn’t mutual. I’ve always respected Nathan. When we were competing in high school, he gave it his all and was always working harder than everyone else. Like I said at the grocery store, this gym situation isn’t what he thinks it is.”

“Then why open one in town—especially less than two miles away from Nathan’s? His business can’t sustain that kind of pressure.”

“Because this isn’t the kind of gym where people will come to lose weight or bulk up like the one your brother owns. It’s more of a rehab facility. It’s a place for people to recover from injuries.”

I look around at the strange, futuristic-looking equipment and suddenly it all makes sense why none of it looks familiar. “All this stuff is for physical therapy?”

He nods. “I want to help people with sports injuries, or people who have been in accidents … or people like my mom who had a stroke after the doctors tried to remove a tumor from her brain.”

Oh God. So that’s what happened to his mom. The way Mac’s voice cracked when he spoke about his mom brings a lump to my throat and tears well up in my eyes. I didn’t know his mom, but seeing the pain it brings him, it hurts me too. I knew she was sick, but I never knew what caused it. It must have been so hard for him growing up that way, always in fear of something happening to his only parent.

“Mac … I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

He sidesteps my words. I don’t think he wants to talk about it, so I don’t push him.

He says, “Your brother has nothing to worry about. Whether he believes me or not, I’ve never been his enemy.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and strangle him in a hug. He laughs and hugs me back. My gut told me Nathan was wrong about him. He’s not a bad guy after all. In fact, he’s one of the most compassionate people I’ve ever met.

“You’re incredible,” I tell him.

“I haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”

I pull away from him and see excitement in his eyes.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I want you on board with my team. I want to hire you to design the line of sportswear I’m going to be selling.”

My eyes spring open. “What?”

“I’d like to have merchandise to sell in store. The proceeds will go to helping those with large co-pays, or who don’t have insurance and can’t afford their treatments. I want to make it so no one will ever be turned down for the care they need.”

He’s not just a good person. He’s a fucking saint.

“And you trust me to design the stuff you want to sell?”

I love doing athletic wear. When I was first starting my business in Oregon, I had a line of yoga clothing that ended up being the most successful in my collection. And yet it failed. I’m afraid whatever I create for Mac will fail too. This would not only be a personal failure, but I would be letting down the people he’s trying to help too. It’s a lot of pressure that I’m not sure I’m up for.

Even with all of my fear and self-doubt, I find myself wanting to jump on the opportunity while it’s right here in front of me, but so many things hold me back. Fear of failure is definitely at the top of the list, but also the thought of Nathan finding out holds me back as well. Just because Mac isn’t opening up a competing gym, doesn’t mean Nathan will be open to me spending time with Mac, and especially not going to work for him.

Though I desperately need the money I say, “I want to. I really do. But I can’t. Nathan will freak out if he knew I was working for you.”

He looks more hurt than upset by the news. “Are you always going to let your brother make your decisions for you? The pay is good, I promise. Plus, the added benefit of working beside me, of course,” he says playfully.

Before I can say no again, he stops me. “Don’t give me your final decision just yet. Take some time to think about it. In the meantime, I want to show you my favorite part of this place.”

I follow him to the back of the building and into a room covered in redwood siding and with a wraparound bench.

“Is this a sauna?” I ask.

He closes the door and steps up behind me. “It is.”

His hands wrap around my waist and he presses against me. His hard-on is evident. It doesn’t take more than just the feel of his arousal to get me excited. I push back, rubbing my ass against him. He lets out a moan and bites my shoulder gently as his fingers snake under the waistband of my shorts.

“Are you ready to start back where we left off?” he whispers in my ear in a low, sultry voice.

“Absolutely.” I turn my head and kiss him.

He dry humps me through our clothes, his hands roaming all over my abdomen until reaching my breasts. He squeezes hard, eliciting a high moan from me. “I can’t wait to feel that tight pussy around my cock again.”

Pulling down my shorts, he bends me over and starts rubbing my ass. I hear a zipper, and then his jeans fall to the ground. I wait for him to enter me, but instead I feel his tongue, warm and wet against my opening. This isn’t a frenzy like it was at the grocery store. He takes his time, covering every inch of that delicate place with his

tongue. I close my eyes, getting high on this feeling, appreciating every moment with him, because I’m not sure how long it will last. He hasn’t mentioned going back to his team, but he will, and when he does, I’m afraid it might devastate me.

“Spread your pussy for me,” he says.

I reach behind me and do as I’m told. He lets out a sound similar to a growl. “So pink and wet, and you smell so sweet,” he says before diving back in for more. His tongue slips in and out of my wet opening, driving me wild. I move my ass, egging him on. When his finger slips inside of me, my head falls forward and the rest of the world and all of the troubles that had been dogging me disappear as I marvel in the pleasure he’s giving me.

I thought it would at least be uncomfortable to have something inside of me again. After having sex with him yesterday, I was so sore that night I could barely walk normally. I had to tell Nathan I was stiff from the long drive.

But it isn’t uncomfortable anymore. If anything it’s better than it was before. This time I’m able to relax and let it happen without worrying that it might hurt.

He grips my ass and gives it a pat. “Come here,” he says.

He sits down on the bench and I climb onto his lap. I slowly lower myself down onto him. Even after having sex with him yesterday, and after his fingers have been inside of me just now, it’s a tight fit, but I’m wet and he slides in easily. The heating element in the sauna is not on, yet sweat beads across my nose and chest. We’re creating our own source of heat in the room.

He holds onto my breasts, twisting and pinching my nipples. He’s gentle in a lot of ways, but not about this. The slight tinge of pain somehow intensifies the pleasure in a way that I don’t understand. I don’t like pain usually. In fact, I’m kind of a baby when it comes to anything that makes me uncomfortable. I tried getting a tattoo on my eighteenth birthday, but only managed to get one line sewn into the skin of my ankle before I called it quits. Mac seems to have a way of reading my body, of knowing how far to go and when to pull back. And with that I trust him completely.