Page 32 of The Woman in the Warehouse

I’d never admit it aloud to anyone, but I always found the gym a little creepy at night. Maybe that was just leftover fear from being a young woman closing a male-dominated gym alone at night. Walking into the locker rooms, stomach in knots, praying no one was still behind when there was no one else around.

“Hm,” I said as I went behind the desk to find the hook my mom had hung his jacket on empty. “She probably put it in the office for safekeeping when she realized it was still here after we left,” I said, and I heard Anthony’s footsteps following me down the staff-only hallway that was home to a maintenance room, a private bathroom, and my mom’s office.

And I swear with each step he took behind me, my heart tripped faster and faster until I could feel my pulse pounding in my throat, chest, wrists, and, well… somewhere else I needed not to be thinking about.

I could feel him just a breath behind me as I slipped another key into the office lock, trying to ignore the way the heat of him was somehow slipping through the fabric of my clothes to chase the chill in the gym away.

A little shiver coursed through me, and I prayed it was dark enough that he didn’t actually see as the lock gave and I pushed the door inward then took a much-needed step away.

There was a coat hanger wedged next to her desk where my mom kept about three different jackets and sweatshirts hanging in case of unexpected weather.

I made my way there, reaching up to remove his jacket, then turning, not realizing Anthony had moved into the postage stamp sized room with me.

So when I whipped around, my breasts brushed across his chest.

My head whipped up as desire sizzled across my nerve endings.

And, somehow, at that moment, I couldn’t seem to muster the determination to keep things professional, to take a step back and wait for him to do the same.

So I stayed planted, my chest against his, my breathing getting slow and shallow as my heartbeat thrummed frantically. This close, I had to wonder if he felt it too.

I was so distracted by my own response to his nearness that I hadn’t seen his arm raise until I felt it slide across my shoulder, up the side of my neck, then whisper down my jaw until his fingers snagged my chin and lifted.

There was a beat.

Waiting to see if there were any objections, any hesitation.

Finding none, though, his lips crashed down on mine in the dark, his mouth swallowing the moan as it escaped me.

My body swayed shamelessly into him, craving the feel of his hard lines against my softer ones.

My hands slid up his arms then across his chest before grabbing the sides of his collar, pulling him more flush against me, my breasts crushing to his chest as his lips pressed deeper.

If there had ever been any concerns about his innate clumsiness or lack of attention slipping into his kissing skills, they disappeared immediately as his hand slid from my chin to grip the back of my neck, tilting me back as his lips grew hungrier, nearly bruising into mine.

My hands moved from his shirt to wrap around his neck as I went up on my tiptoes.

A shiver moved down my spine as Anthony’s tongue teased the crease of my lips before moving inside to meet mine, both of us exploring, tasting, teasing.

My fingers slid up, tangling in his hair, nails scraping his scalp, drawing a rumbling noise out of him, making his hands slide from my neck, moving down my back, then sinking into my ass, using it to draw me even closer. His cock pressed against my stomach, making a throaty whimper escape me as everything in me begged for him to reach up, to draw down my pants and panties, to sink his tongue, fingers, and cock inside of me.

Sensing my need, Anthony turned as his teeth nipped my lower lip, biting just to the point of pain as he folded forward to grab me around the thighs, then lifting me up off of the ground to deposit me down on my mother’s desk.

My legs instinctively spread for him and he stepped between.

My arms went up around his neck as he leaned forward, his hand planting on the desk behind me, bending me backward as his hips pressed between my legs, his cock pressing against my cleft.

My legs wrapped around his hips, my heels digging into his ass, holding him more tightly against me as I writhed against him, desperate to get a hint of relief from the aching need.

Anthony groaned against my lips as I found the rhythm my body was craving, rocking restlessly against him, my hands clawing at his back.

His mouth ripped from mine, moving down to tease over my neck as I arched off the desk, rocking harder against him, my low whimpers becoming soft moans.

Anthony lifted up, looking down at me for a moment before he moved me to the very end of the desk so he could stand, his hands sliding up under my shirt, fingers meeting heated, sensitive skin as I continued to writhe against him, driving myself closer and closer to the edge.

His fingers had just traced up to the underside of my bra when a voice called from the main area of the gym.

“Saylor?” my mom called, making me freeze as Anthony’s hands snatched back out of my shirt, and he quickly moved to stand, eyes wide, horrified.

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