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Love and Pancakes (Rockland Falls Book 1) by Lacey Black, Lacey Black (8)

Chapter Eight

Rhenn

I worked for a few hours this morning with a big-ass smile on my face. Hell, it’s the same smile I wore last night when I got back from the gym and fell into bed. I was alone, of course, and my thoughts were on only one woman: Marissa.

Surprisingly, I didn’t see her this morning at the house. I thought for sure she’d be there, working in the guest rooms, but she never showed. I even thought about walking back to her little house and knocking on the door to make sure everything was all right. I didn’t, though. Instead, I recalled the way she looked last night, her eyes sparkling like emeralds, when I suggested we work on a few karate moves this morning.

I have a few moves for her and none of them are related to karate.

It’s almost ten o’clock and I’m walking to the gym after just checking out of the bed and breakfast I was staying at. Meghan had sent me a text a few minutes ago to let me know she’s on her way, and Nick called to tell me he was just finishing his pre-sail check and ready to head out. It’ll take him just a little longer to get here than his wife, but he definitely didn’t draw the short straw. I’d take sailing over riding in a vehicle any day.

The air changes the moment I step through the door. Weights clank and treadmills hum. It’s a pretty nice gym, honestly, and if I were in the market for one in the future, this would probably be the one I’d pick. But, I’m not in the market. I have my own small gym in the back of my dojo that I use daily, and in just a few short weeks, I’ll be back to my usual life, away from Rockland Falls.

Away from Marissa.

That thought settles like a lead balloon in my stomach.

Before I can glance around the small atrium of the gym, I know she’s already here. I can sense her presence, smell her sweet fragrance. Marissa looks nervous as she approaches, a cup of coffee in one hand and her cell phone in the other. “Hi,” she says, coming up alongside me.

“Hey,” I respond, happy she’s here. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if she’d make it to our little impromptu lesson. She’s wearing tight bicycle shorts that leave absolutely nothing to my dirty imagination and a loose-fitting tank top. My mouth starts to water and my cock starts to stir in my shorts.

I’m not so sure this is a great idea anymore.

We head toward the matted room without saying anything, tension along for the tour. (Sexual tension, if you were wondering.) I hold open the door and wave her in, following behind as we step inside so I can check out her ass in those shorts. Hey, I’m a guy. Marissa stops short and I have to stifle the groan that threatens to fly from my mouth when I spy the reason. Staci is there, sitting on a bench with her legs spread, stretching from side to side.

Okay, let’s talk for a moment.

Typically, the guy brain attached to my cock would have noticed. Hell, old Rhenn would probably already be fucking her on that very bench she sits on. But right now, all I want is for her to disappear so I can have an hour with Marissa to demonstrate a few self-defense moves.

Disturbing thought, considering just a few weeks ago, I let my little head make all of my decisions. Right now, little head is definitely hoping to sneak a few peeks of whatever bra Marissa is wearing underneath that tank top or maybe even brush against her ass as I hold her against my body to show her how to escape a perpetrator.

Nowhere in all of my daydreams is Staci present. Old Rhenn, hell yes! Threesome? Sign him up! But new Rhenn? This weird guy who entertains thoughts of a (whispers…relationship), well, he just wants to enjoy a little time with the woman who has piqued his interest and invaded his dreams.

“Staci, I wasn’t expecting you to be here,” I say casually, yet feeling anything but.

“Well, I thought that since you were offering private workouts, I’d see if you had time for one more,” she replies, batting those eyelashes and arching her chest forward. It’s not cold in here, but her nipples strain against the sports bra she’s wearing.

Running my hand over the top of my head, I try to figure out how in the hell to get myself out of this situation. Never have I led Staci to think I was interested in any one-on-one anything, but here I am, dumbfounded for probably the first time in my adult life, and trying to figure out how to get myself out of an awkward and unwanted situation.

“Actually, Staci, now isn’t really a good time. I only had budgeted a little time with Marissa, and then I have friends coming in later. Maybe another time,” I offer, though wish I wouldn’t have. Especially when I see her eyes light up in anticipation and feel Marissa tense beside me.

Fuck. I’m jacking this up good.

“Sure thing, Rhenny,” Staci replies, her bright white teeth a contrast to the dark red on her lips. I cringe when the familiar nickname spills from her lips. I hate that damn nickname. Ninety-eight percent of the women I’ve screwed have called me by that fucking name, like turning it into some cutesy baby name is somehow appropriate. Most of the time I haven’t minded, especially because I wasn’t with them for their ability to use adult words.

Feeling like an utter ass, I hold completely still as Staci comes over and places her hands on my chest. I stop breathing when she moves in, her expensive perfume wrapping around me entire body and squeezing it to death, as she places her lips on my cheek. It feels familiar, but unwanted. There’s only one set of lips I want on my body, and it’s not Staci’s.

She pulls back and gives me a wink before flitting away, a wide swing to her hourglass hips. I don’t intentionally watch her go, at least not for the reason you may think. It’s more of that shell-shocked, completely beside myself, what the fuck am I supposed to do now? kinda reasons.

When the door closes behind her, I risk a glance at Marissa.

And I wish I hadn’t.

Her eyes are cast downward, but I can feel the sadness and resolution settle between us. I’ve never thought Marissa to be weak. She doesn’t appear to be a woman who will roll over and let someone walk over her. I’ve seen that spunky side, with her sassy comebacks and her quick wit. But I don’t see any of that now. I see a woman who finds herself second-best – and probably not for the first time either. Someone who has been compared to someone else and found lacking.

And that instantly pisses me off.

Because Marissa Grayson is the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met. This I can tell after only knowing her mere days – a week. She’s beautiful, inside and out, and has the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. Shit, I’ve never cared to see past the big hair and fake tits before, but here I am, craving to get to know someone better, to catch glimpses of the person she hides deep down from the rest of the world.

Longing for the Marissa who walked into the room, I step forward and place my finger on her chin. Without any quick movements, I raise her head and find sadness in her green eyes. This very look steals my breath and rocks me down to my core.

“Hey, you ready?” I ask, shooting for light and easy, but fearing I come across a bit too aloof.

“Yes, of course,” she replies with a fake smile that I recognize immediately. “I don’t want to keep you too long. You have other plans,” she adds with a friendly punch to my arm. A fucking punch, like friends shooting the shit.

We might be friends, but the things I’m envisioning doing to her are anything but friendly.

Dirty. Erotic. Fan-fucking-tastic. That’s what I’d describe all of the things I want to do. With her. To her.

Fuck, now I’m hard.

Locking my gaze on hers, I say the words that I know she needs to hear – the words I need to say. “I don’t have any other plans except the ones I made with you.” I make sure to put as much conviction as I can behind them, knowing that for some reason, this woman feels like she’s so easily dismissed. Second-best.

I fucking hate it.

Determined to put her mind at ease, I step over to the bench and drop my bag. I’m already dressed for our private lesson, so there’s nothing I need to get ready for our first class. “Usually, I’d have my Karate Gi, but I didn’t think I’d need to bring it with me. This isn’t a formal class, just a friend teaching a friend how to defend herself.”

When I turn around, her eyes are staring at my legs. At first, I think they’re just cast downward because of what happened earlier with Staci, but I realize quickly that’s not the case. Her green eyes are wide, her pupils dilated, and a look I’m all too familiar with crosses her face. It’s desire. Hunger. Longing.

My dick twitches in my pants, a reminder of how badly I want this woman, and considering the fact I’m about to have my hands all over her, I think it’s safe to say she’ll be well aware of that tidbit of information very quickly.

“Ready?” I ask, my own voice a little shaky and husky.

“I think so,” she replies, her eyes meeting mine, filled with excitement and anxiety.

“We’ll start easy. There are a few moves every woman should know. They’re simple ways to immobilize an assailant, hopefully giving you the precious seconds you’d need to get away,” I say, standing directly in front of her. She’s so fucking small compared to me. I swear I’m about a foot taller, and much broader than her petite body.

“This first move is the open hand strike. Use the heel of your hand to strike your assailant’s most sensitive areas,” I state, grabbing her hand and showing her the move. I bring it up to my face. “Eyes, nose, mouth, or neck.” She demonstrates the motion without connecting with my face, and practices the move a few times before offering me a warm smile.

That smile goes straight to my heart, which is pounding so hard I think even the weightlifters can hear it in the main part of the gym over the heavy metal bass pumping through their earbuds. “Good, now for this next one, you use your elbow. If needed, it could help buy you some precious seconds when dealing with an attacker. Use it to strike the face, neck, or stomach as hard as you can,” I tell her, demonstrating a few hard elbow thrusts.

Marissa repeats the move, her elbow gently connecting with my stomach. “Sorry,” she says, turning quickly, her wide eyes full of concern.

“You’re fine. You didn’t hurt me,” I assure, moving so that she faces me. “Now, this one is important. Knee to the groin. Painful as fuck and will drop a man faster than you can say freedom.”

She offers me a shy smile before dropping her eyes downward. My dick – as if it knows she’s looking at him – starts to wave hello from my shorts. “Should we practice?” she asks, a teasing glint in her sparkly eyes.

“Definitely not. I’ve taken a few shots in my day, and it’s not something I’m looking to repeat anytime soon.”

“You have?” she asks, shocked.

“I have,” I confirm. “One of the students I was working with got a little carried away. He hauled off and punch me square in the nads.”

“During practice?” she asks, her eyes dropping to my shorts once more. I just pray my cock isn’t standing at complete attention at this moment.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I feel a slight blush creep in. Yep, I actually fucking blush. “Uhhh, no. I was sneaking out of his mom’s bedroom.”

Realization sets in and Marissa begins to blush as well. “Oh.”

“Yeah, not one of my finest moments,” I confirm, looking to get this lesson back on track. And quick. “Why don’t we try a few situations? You can practice your new moves.”

“All but the blow to the balls?” she teases.

All I heard was blow and balls.

“Yeah, without that.” Turning around, I will my cock into submission. The last thing I need is to walk up with a hard-on and scare her off. We’re supposed to be working on self-defense, not scarring her for life because her instructor is thinking about nothing else but banging her.

“What do I do?” she asks, jumping a little when I suddenly advance. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I pull her toward the center of the mat.

Just as I’m about to tell her to fight me off, I feel her tiny body twist in my arms and almost disappear moments before I take a shot to my face. “Fuck,” I mumble, staggering back a step.

“Holy shit!” she exclaims, running toward me. My hand is covering my nose and lip, the faintest taste of blood fills my mouth.

“Holy shit,” I reply as she grabs my hand, moving it out of the way, and touches my split lip. “You’re supposed to be running away, not tending to your assailant’s wounds, Marissa,” I chastise, though secretly loving the fact that she’s doctoring up a fat lip.

“I hit you,” she groans.

“Yes, and you were supposed to.”

“But I didn’t realize I was actually going to hit you. You were supposed to…block it or something!”

“I’m fine, Marissa. Not the first shot I’ve taken,” I reassure her, grabbing her hands and holding them at her side.

It’s right then and there, I realize how incredibly close we’re standing. We’re practically chest-to-chest, and even though she’s much shorter than I am, the position feels natural and so fucking amazing. All I want to do is wrap my arms around her waist and pull her flush against me. Maybe even feel her legs wrap around my back moments before I kiss the hell out of her.

But the tender throbbing in my lip lets me know there won’t be any kissing anytime soon. At least not right now.

We spend the next thirty minutes going over a few moves. I’ve taught karate and self-defense classes for ten years, and in all of that time, I’ve never had as much fun as I do with Marissa. She’s attentive and quick to learn. She asks questions when I’m explaining a series of movements or stances. She teases me here and there, offering a shy and innocent grin that I think is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

When our time is up, I grab my bag and reach for her hand. I don’t know why, other than I want to feel her skin against mine. She doesn’t pull away – which surprises me a bit, considering there really isn’t a reason for me to hold it – so I make no sudden movements to keep from spooking her. I lead her out of the room we used, past the wall of treadmills, by the front desk where Staci beams from her stool, and right out the front door. I don’t stop until I’m at the parking lot beside the gym.

Glancing around, I have no idea which car is hers. “Over there,” she says, pointing to a used Chevy Malibu at the edge of the lot.

When we reach the car, she opens the back door and drops her small bag inside. She turns to face me, my heart starting to pound a strong beat in my chest. Our eyes remain locked, our fingers entwined, and I decide to make a move. I know it’s a bad idea. Hell, I’ve talked myself out of this exact situation a dozen times since I met her.

But right here, right now? With her fingers linked with mine?

I just don’t fucking have it in me to push her away.

Stepping into her personal space, I pin her body between mine and her car. I release her fingers, but only long enough to bring my hands to her face and thread them into her hair. Her breath catches and her wide eyes lock on mine. There’s a bit of nervousness there, but that’s not the emotion that dominates. Oh no, that’s excitement. She’s trying to decide which side of the fence she wants to play on: the safe side or the dangerous one.

All it would take is one little kiss to convince her, but that’s not what I want. I don’t want any regrets filtering through that pretty little mind of hers. I want her to be all-in, go balls to the wall, and give as good as she gets.

When her tongue slips out and wets her lips, I have my answer. It takes balls of steel not to bend down and take. Take her mouth in a bruising kiss. Take her in my arms and possess her. Take everything she wants to give and push her to her limits.

But I don’t.

Jesus, as bad as I want to, I don’t take.

Instead, I savor.

Keeping my eyes open until the last possible second, I witness the way her eyes dilate right before they close. I see the way she inhales deeply and holds her breath. I know the moment I won’t ever be the same again, and it’s right now, the second my lips touch hers.

This kiss is gentle, yet anything but innocent. She wastes no time opening her mouth for me, allowing my tongue to slide inside and taste her for the first time. I’m immediately hypnotized. I know it won’t matter how many times I have my mouth on her, it will never be enough.

I feel her hands on my back, gripping at my shirt, and as badly as I want to, I muster up every ounce of willpower I have to keep from deepening this kiss. It would be too easy to get caught up in the moment, to throw her on the hood, and make her come ten ways to Sunday. But I won’t. Not today.

Instead, I let my lips savor her taste, her feel, for a few more seconds before reluctantly pulling away. Her eyes remain closed, but her mouth is open, wet and swollen from my kiss. Her breathing is a light pant that fans across my face, those little puffs of air calling to me for more. Yet, I don’t.

“Meghan and Nick will be here soon. You’re having dinner with your family, right?”

Her eyes finally open, glossy and a bit out of focus. “Yes,” she whispers.

“Will you still go out on the boat with us tomorrow? If you pack a light bag, we can stay out tomorrow night too.” She starts to give me a look, and I realize how that probably sounded. “You can have my make-shift bed. I’ll sleep on deck in a chair.”

“I can’t do that,” she argues.

“I’m giving Nick and Meghan the master bedroom. There’s a sofa that turns into a bed downstairs, kinda like a futon, and it’s yours. I can take a chair.”

Can I just stop you right there? Did you catch what I just said?

It’s official. That’s the first time I’ve invited a woman to my boat and offered to sleep in the fucking chair. This just proves my point, my brain isn’t firing on all cylinders at the moment. There’s a huge disconnect, and it’s probably from lack of sex. But something tells me jumping into bed with her right out of the gate, while completely satisfying, would kill the progress I’ve made in whatever this is.

And I still have no clue what the hell this is.

“That still doesn’t seem right, Rhenn. You’re the owner of the boat and you’d be sleeping in a chair.”

Sliding my hands down her sides, I feel her shudder under my touch. “Then maybe you’ll just have to share the other bed with me,” I reply with a low, husky voice. The last thing I want is to scare her off, but sometimes, old Rhenn rears his ugly head and I just can’t hold back on the come-ons.

Marissa stares up at me for a few seconds. It bothers me that I don’t know what she’s thinking. She’s probably about to slap me. That’s what I’d do if I were her. Instead, she throws me completely off balance when she replies, “Maybe I will.”

And just like that, my brain short-circuits and nearly explodes. Unable to speak words (and I’m never one for lacking those, especially in the company of a beautiful woman), I watch as she turns in my arms and reaches for her car door. I take a step back, still trying to process what she said, as she slips inside her car and cranks the engine. Before she starts to back out of the parking spot, the window rolls down. “Dinner’s at five, Rhenn. Be there,” she says before throwing me a wink and backing out of the spot.

I watch her go, still trying to figure out how in the hell I went from kissing her and insinuating we could share a bed, to completely giving her the upper hand. That’s never happened before. Ever. And do you know what?

I fucking love it.

 

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