Page 5 of New Year, New You and Me

Her brow twitches. “Maybe I only believe in giving it to people who deserve it.”

“Ouch.” I wince. “It’s a good thing you picked ‘work out three times a week” instead of ‘be nicer’ as one of your resolutions.”

“I’m always nice—to people who deserve it,” she adds before I can protest.

Damn, but she’s fun to get riled. Not only do those dazzling eyes of hers heat up like flames, but her luscious lips are particularly full when they get all pouty.

That’s to say nothing about the way her chest rises up and down when she’s trying to contain her annoyance with me. One of these days, I wonder if I’ll piss her off enough to make them pop out of her top. That would be a sight. They’re already distractingly plump when they’re covered by layers of clothes. I can only imagine their unrestrained perfection.

I’ve spent a lot of time imagining their unrestrained perfection…

I know. I’m a dick. I’m purposefully pissing off a colleague. And I’m doing it for lusty purposes.

I can only imagine how pissed off—and gorgeous—Molly would get if she knew exactly what was going on in my mind—and in my groin—every time I made her mad.

A vision of her fiery eyes and heaving chest comes to mind. My dick twitches.

Molly’s frown deepens. “What are you staring at?”

I blink with a start and shake my head. “Nothing.”

“Really? Because it seemed like you were staring at something.”

Fortunately, the front door of the only gym in town, located in the community center, clicks open. Thank God. I doubt I could have come up with a convincing explanation for why I was staring at her. At least not with so much blood pooling in my dick.

We simultaneously turn to walk in the door and our shoulders bump. Heat rushes through me even though it’s below freezing.

Clearing my throat, I open the door wider and motion for her to enter. She does not move.

“What?” I ask. “Ladies first.”

Her eyes narrow. “How do I know you aren’t going to slam that thing on me?”

“Why would I do something like that?”

“So you can”—she rubs her nose—“I don’t know, give me a hamstring sprain and knock me out of the competition before we’ve even started.”

“You don’t think I’d do that. Do you?”

“Maybe you would.” She lifts her shoulder. “I’ve never known you to be chivalrous before.”

“Yeah, but have I ever been a giant dick who would purposefully hurt you? No, wait.” I hold up my hands. “Don’t answer that.”

If she says yes, it’ll only piss me off. The idea of myself—or anyone causing her even a moment of pain—makes me furious.

And unlike the woman driving me senseless, I don’t look gorgeous when I’m angry.

Jaw clenched, I try to smile. “Even if I wanted to cheat on our bet—which I don’t—I couldn’t sprain your hamstring with the door.”

At least, I don’t think I can.

“I would never hurt you.” I take a deep breath. “Now, would you get the fuck inside before we both turn into fucking popsicles?”

“Ooh, someone’s a little spicy before his workout.” She wiggles her eyebrows—and her luscious behind—at me and saunters past. “Yes, sir.”

A vision of pushing Molly up against the wall in the steamy shower as she says ‘yes, sir’ pops into my head.

“Fucking, hell,” I mutter to myself following her inside.

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