Page 56 of His Every Move

“Of course,” I said. Eli lay down on the bench and grabbed onto the bar, lining his hands up and bracing his chest. The weight room in the gym wasn’t as busy as the cardio section. There were four other people working out, all of them focused on their own routines.

Eli looked up at me. His devilish smirk was about a hundred degrees hotter from this angle. “Ready?” he asked.

“When you are.”

With a grunt, he pushed the bar up and started to do his bench presses. I moved forward, my crotch only a couple of inches away from his face.

Damn… if this were a private gym, all I had to do was lower my shorts and my cock would be right at sucking level.

I ghosted my fingers underneath the bar in case he needed help getting it back up. Eli had it, though. He made it seem effortless, pumping up and down until he finished his set, his breathy grunts striking a match inside my core.

“Nice job. My turn,” I said, swapping places with him. Eli took my spot and stood above me. It wasn’t until I finished up my set that I realized there was something else besides his hands helping carry the weight of the bar.

Eli’s bulge pressed against the steel rod. He wasn’t at full mast, but he was definitely turned on by watching me work out.

Fucking hell.

My blood turned to liquid fire, scorching through my veins, hot and passionate.

I sat up on the bench, swallowed hard, glancing around the gym. “Eli?—”

My next thoughts were wrong. So fucking wrong. I should have kept my dick in my shorts, used the brain in my skull to make decisions. Except that brain was slightly altered by the two shots of vodka I downed before meeting Eli for the gym.

I figured it’d help loosen the muscles.

It also helped loosen the inhibitions.

“Does this place have showers?” I asked.

He gave a nod. “Private stalls. Big ones.”

His fingers brushed my shoulder, just enough to make my cock throb in my gym shorts.

Fuck.

This was wrong.

I should have been more focused on the fact that Damon was a dangerous piece of shit. That I had work to do. That we were in a public space. That I was falling hard for this man who had no idea about the lengths I took to make a moment like this even happen.

What would he do if he knew?

What would I do if he left because of it?

Would he…?

Eli smirked, tossing his towel over his shoulder, giving me a look that was pure fucking sin. “The locker room’s this way.”

I was already off of the bench, following him.

The locker room was empty except for a guy blow-drying his hair by the sinks, oblivious to us as we quickly changed out of our clothes and wrapped warm towels around us. Eli, the tease that he was, took a little extra time wrapping his towel around his waist, letting me drool over his stiffening cock.

“You’re bad,” I said in a whisper as we slipped into the row of private showers. Eli pulled me into the farthest stall, locking the door behind us. We hooked our towels on the hanger before turning the water on.

“Quiet, Detective,” he whispered, pressing me against the cool tile.

His hands were already cupping my full balls, his lips ghosting over my jaw before he started to drop to his knees.

I let out a breath and gripped his arms, holding him up. “I’m hungry for your dick.” I swapped us around so that his back was against the onyx black tiles. His cock jutted out from between his legs, water dripping down his shaft, over his well-trimmed bush. It was a body I’d studied whenever I watched him online, memorizing the divots in his hips, the birthmarks around his chest, the tiny moon-shaped scar around his abdomen.

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