Page 4 of The Scars of Us

A slight pang of guilt threatened to surface as I trotted down the stairs from just leaving like that. I shook my head, reminding myself that all women were the same—they couldn’t be trusted. I learned that from experience, and I’d be damned if I let myself be manipulated again.

Hopping into my Chevy Z71 truck parked in her apartment complex lot, I checked the time: 3:26 A.M.

Thank God, I don’t have to wake up early.

My first class at the gym tomorrow wasn’t until two, so I could sleep in. I had some fitness regimens and nutrition plans to work on before then, but I could squeeze them in when I woke up or in between classes if I needed to.

Once I arrived back at my apartment, I undressed and went to bed. My muscles were loose, my body relaxed from my release as I lay on my mattress. The woman from earlier was almost completely forgotten as I drifted off to sleep.

The gym was abnormally packed for a Thursday afternoon when I walked through the doors to start my shift. Our peak times were usually the evenings and weekends, so I was surprised to see so many people. Most of the machines were occupied by a mix of men and women, however, the majority of people were male muscle heads like me. Hardly any weights sat in their spots on the racks that lined the wall, and the clang of all the equipment echoed throughout the building. I also had many new faces in my Intermediate Kickboxing class, including some hot women.

I had to remind myself not to get involved with clients. Hooking up with them was bad for business, especially since I was one of the lead trainers. But it was difficult not to get sucked in by them, given some of the fine specimens that were at the gym regularly.

After my class ended, I went to my office to finish a fitness plan for one of my clients. I had finished most when I woke up that morning, and I just needed to put the final few touches on this last one. The man was an overweight lawyer who was trying to impress his paralegal mistress by losing weight and toning up.Yeah, right.The guy got short of breath every time he walked up the stairs to the upper level of the gym. He would need many sessions before he even came close to his goal, which was for him to lose fifty pounds in six months. If he followed the strict diet and exercise plan that I’d set, it could be possible, but it would take a level of commitment that I didn’t think he possessed. Most people lacked the drive to stick with a fitness regimen long enough to see results.

Once my client, Harold Banks, arrived, fifteen minutes late, we began the session with stretches to warm up his underused muscles. We briefly talked about one of his newest cases, a woman who had been in a car accident involving a drunk driver, as we stretched. After that, I took him to walk on the treadmill. He had already broken out into a slight sweat from the stretching and stairs, so I set his treadmill on low to start. I chose a medium pace for my machine, wanting to motivate but not discourage my client.

During our run, I noticed an unfamiliar face out of the corner of my eye. A woman, who looked to be my age, maybe twenty-five or twenty-six, hopped on a treadmill two machines away from mine. She seemed to be tuned out to the world around her, not seeking any attention like many of the other women here as her head bopped lightly to whatever was playing in her earbuds. Something about her immediately intrigued me; I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, but I wanted to figure it out. I had to stop myself from leaving Mr. Banks to go talk to her.

Her dark hair was pulled up in a high ponytail that swished back and forth as she briskly jogged. Even from this angle, I could see that she had gorgeous eyes, the color similar to that of bright, Caribbean waters.

Images of her beneath me, eyes closed, lips parted as she moaned my name while I filled her with my cock ran through my head. I wanted to run my hands all over her, feel the soft skin of her tits, ass, and thighs under my rough, tattooed hands.

After glancing at me out of the corner of her eye several times, the woman stumbled, gripping the handrails to keep herself from falling and being thrown off the machine.

Jumping off my treadmill, I rushed to her side to help her. Grasping her by the waist, I pulled her up and against me as I turned off the power. Her chest rose and fell rapidly against mine as she struggled to breathe, her hands clutching my shoulders for support.She feels good in my arms; natural.

“Are you okay?” The concern in my voice surprised me.Why did I care?

Abruptly, she pulled away from me, like she had been stung by my touch. Her face reddened, probably from a combination of embarrassment and adrenaline. Keeping her eyes averted from mine, she meekly replied, “Thank you. I think I’m okay.”

Sticking my hand out towards her, I introduced myself, “Ryker Campbell.”

Her eyes flitted back and forth from my face to my hand before she timidly placed her hand in mine, peeking up at me through thick eyelashes. Her dazzling eyes mesmerized me as they locked on mine. She gently squeezed my hand as I caressed hers with my thumb. “Kaiya Marlow.”

Her skin is as soft as I thought it would be. I wonder if she’s that soft everywhere.

“That’s a unique name. I’ve never heard it before. I like it.”

Her full lips turned up into a small, shy smile. “Thank you.”

We stood there staring at each other for a few seconds, as if in a trance, before I realized we were still holding hands. Kaiya must have noticed too because she pulled her hand from mine as her gaze darted around nervously, her skin flushing deeper as her smile widened.She’s beautiful.

Heavy breathing from behind me redirected my attention to my struggling client. Sweat trailed from his receding hairline down his reddened face before dripping off his chin. Turning back to Kaiya, I stated, “I have to get back to my client. Are you sure that you’re okay?”

“Yes. Sorry for embarrassing myself and interrupting your workout.”

Chuckling, I responded, “Really, it was my pleasure. Nice meeting you, Kaiya.”

Her voice cracked, catching in her throat as she replied, “You too.”

Even though I didn’t want to, I reluctantly turned around and went back to Mr. Banks. “Ready for weights, Mr. Banks?”

He nodded enthusiastically as his labored breaths continued. Laughing inwardly, I slowed his treadmill to a stop. He clutched the rails as he caught his breath, then stumbled off and trailed behind me towards the weight room.

As we walked, I looked over my shoulder, my gaze traveling back to Kaiya. She was still standing on the treadmill, unmoving as her eyes met mine, then instantly darted forward again. I smirked as her eyes flitted back and forth several more times before she secured her stare in front of her.

Glad to see I’m not the only one affected.

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