Page 37 of Deception

Isabella gives me a side eye as she scurries past me again, this time with a book in hand. She looks mischievous, like she’s getting away with something by being here, exploring erratically, jumping from one shelf to the next.

“There’s no rush,” I laugh.

“Of course there is! How am I supposed to read all of these?” Her exasperated stare has my guard slipping again, falling into my own perusal of the titles along one wall.

“There really are more books here than one person could hope to read in a lifetime.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t try…” There she is, that tenacious, relentless interrogator from our first night here.

And just like that, we’re seemingly back to normal.

The knife to my throat and my violent outburst forgotten. Not wanting to lose the progress I’ve made, I head towards the door as she settles down on a chair, already engrossed in a book.

“I’ll leave you to your literary adventures. I need to get a few things done. And feel free to take anything you want back to your room, of course.”

The proximity to her and her vibrant spirit have me riding high. It’s foolish, dangerous, and silly of me.

So I head straight to my room to change and hit the gym.

An hour later, I’m pouring sweat and gasping for breath. Just what I needed.

Until she walks through the door wearing a sports bra and yoga pants, her cleavage peeking out the top of the bright purple material.

She looks positively mouthwatering. I can’t help following the line of her stomach from the base of her ribcage, down to the tight waistband of her ass-hugging black pants.

She's fit as hell and clearly takes good care of her body. Every inch of her exposed skin is a searing brand to my eyes, to my mind, instantly getting me rock-hard in my shorts.

With a little smile and a raising of her eyebrows she passes me, heading toward the treadmill. I almost choke when I see the way her ass is cupped by the fabric, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“You all done?” she asks, looking from the settings on the panel back toward me. Her long ponytail flips as she does, two perfect curls of black hair framing her flawless face.

God dammit, I need to get my head straight.

“Uh. Yeah. She’s all yours.” I watch her for a few minutes, jogging easily while I do a set of curls.

“You should have told me you were going to work out. We could do sets together, pass the time,” she says a bit breathlessly, hopping down off the treadmill.

And challenge each other.I see the thought flash through her eyes as she traces a bead of sweat running down my neck into my tank top.

“Pshh, I doubt you could keep up with me.”

“Oh really?” She cocks her hip to the side, and I have to tense my neck not to look down.

I shrug. “I go really hard.”

“Hmph. I see that.” She flicks her gaze down.

I’ve never been one to embarrass easily, and she’s got me riled up. So, I crack my neck and stand straighter, letting her see all of me.

Tonguing the inside of her cheek she bends low into a stretch, watching me in the mirror. From there, she shifts from one side to the other, dipping one leg and dragging the other, side to side, bobbing that bubble butt up and down.

With a soft shake of my head, I fall into the movement myself, matching her.

“What are you working on today?” I ask.

“I thought I would do some yoga, calisthenics.”

I gesture to the mats by the wall. We have everything imaginable down here, I had Adriano make sure of that before our stay. Nothing keeps my stress levels manageable like lifting weights.

---