Hard Bodies - ISBN #1-84360-301-2
Determined to get herself in working order after an automobile accident, all Brandy Schuller believed she wanted from world class weight lifter Franko Priest was some help in developing her body. But the moment she walked into the empty workout gym and saw the powerful, nearly naked man, she found herself wanting a whole lot more…
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Excerpt
He lay on his back, powerful legs straddling the narrow bench, thighs and crotch exposed; he was the next thing to naked. This is what I am, his body language said. Take it or leave it. Not that any woman alive could ignore that prime piece of meat.
Brandy Schuller couldn’t take her eyes off his massive chest and arms, couldn’t think beyond the strength exuding from him. Dressed in a skin-tight, sleeveless muscle shirt and nylon shorts that barely contained his thighs and the bulge that fairly screamed cock, he looked more than human.
Licking her lips, Brandy leaned against the wall and stared at Franko Priest. The longer she studied the awesome mass of him, the more her skin hummed. No wonder. His muscles were his trademark, the way he supported himself, his in-your-face message to the world. As for why she couldn’t stop thinking about straddling him and begging him to impale her, well, chalk that up to insanity.
He remained as motionless as he’d been when she walked into the unnervingly empty gym. He held weighted dumbbells at chest level in preparation for a lift, his taut arm muscles looking in as superb condition as the rest of him.
Hard rock music blared throughout the large, well-equipped facility, but at a few minutes past midnight, she and Priest were the only people in the building. Although she’d known it would just be the two of them, unexpected nervousness slid through her. Her gaze remained on the man who’d shattered several world weight-lifting records. Priest, only Priest could help her.
If he didn’t scare her to death first.
Slow and steady, he began pushing the dumbbells into the air. The pectoral muscles across his upper chest contracted, as did his triceps. They grew larger, expanding to impossible proportions. What sane woman would dare crawl on top of him? What insane one wouldn’t fantasize? Well, she admitted, it wasn’t the first time she’d had those thoughts when it came to Priest.
The dumbbell chest press was a deceptively simple movement-weights up as far as the arms could extend, then down. He completed one rep and without resting, began another. He could do the same to her, lift her over him, then bring her down, down until he’d buried his cock in her heated pussy.
Oh brother; you are getting carried away tonight, aren’t you?
He seemed to have pulled deep inside himself and become nothing more than muscle, bone, and nerves. She’d seen larger men on the posters that decorated the gym walls, but she certainly hadn’t seen a more total package in the flesh. She figured his height at around six foot four, and someone had told her that he weighed just under three hundred pounds.
Three hundred pounds! On an ordinary mortal, that would be fat. But everything about Priest shouted muscle. Muscle she’d be spending the next hour with…unless she chickened out.
No! No turning and running; she’d come too far.
Five reps now, pecs knotting and hard as rock. Features contorted, he grunted through the sixth lift, paused a millisecond longer than before, then surged into number seven. She counted with him, felt her own muscles burn and tremble. Her pussy seemed to liquefy, although with anticipation or fear she couldn’t say.
Eight. Nine. Ten. Halfway through the eleventh upward movement, he bellowed. The weights thudded to the rubberized mat under the bench, just missing him.
He lay there as if assessing his body. Watching him run a hand over his upper arm, she swore she could feel his sweat-slickened flesh. Beyond all sanity, she imagined her fingers on him, absorbing his heat and raw power.
Franko Priest had been a professional football player who now devoted himself to weight-lifting and bodybuilding. In addition, no one in this part of the state knew more about how the human body worked…how to push it to the edge and beyond. She’d come here for that. Only that.
He sat up, muscles rolling and bunching. He had a football player’s thick neck and impossibly wide shoulders. The photographs of him posing during a competition didn’t do him justice. Not even his reputation, spoken in awed tones by lesser mortals, had prepared her for her first look at him three months ago. Since then she’d learned that although he took physical conditioning seriously, he didn’t expect perfection from those who came to him for advice, thank goodness. She couldn’t guess at his percentage of body fat, but there seemed to be nothing except skin over his muscles. Was he soft anywhere?
Maybe his cock when it wasn’t erect.
“Have you seen enough, Ms. Schuller?”
She winced and took an unconscious step back. Unfortunately, the wall had no give to it. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t mean to distract you.”
He slid off the bench and stood up, a confident jungle cat. His long, steel-like legs ate up the space separating them, and his mouth lifted in what might become a smile given half a chance. Above that was a long, narrow nose and deep-set chocolate eyes.
He was huge, larger up close than she’d expected! She had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. How that flimsy shirt managed to at least marginally control his sculptured chest she didn’t know. His shorts were rolled up over his thighs, further accenting his minimally sheathed cock and balls.
“I could use a distraction,” he said. “The truth is, I was getting bored, and I don’t dare max out if I don’t have a spotter. What do you think of what you saw?”
She swallowed and tried not to breathe in the smell of his sweat. “Impressive lift.”
Chuckling, he clenched his fists and struck a classic pose. His muscles expanded even more. His veins looked like garden-hoses snaking just under the skin. “I’m glad you think so. I’ve certainly had enough practice.”
It was her turn to speak; unfortunately, her throat contacted. He folded his arms across his chest…not that they actually folded…and looked down at her. “All right,” he said. “We need to get started. First, how honest do you want me to be?”
I don’t know. “Honest. Completely.”
“All right then. To begin, your breasts are too big.”
“What?” she gasped.
“Your breasts are too large.”
“They’re mine, all mine if that’s what you’re getting at.” She gave a half thought to slapping him. This was hardly the way she’d expected their first session to begin.
“Back up, Brandy. This is an objective assessment, not a come-on.”
Not sure she was relieved or disappointed; she struggled not to look down at herself. Priest had told her to meet him at this ungodly hour because it was the only time he had free. In the three months she’d been coming to the gym, she’d come to respect his expertise, and he came highly recommended. Besides, whenever he saw her, he spoke to her, about nothing more earth-shattering than the weather or to offer a suggestion about how to target a particular muscle during an exercise which allowed her to consider him a casual friend. Never before had it been just the two of them.
But after everything she’d been through this year, she wasn’t about to turn tail and run.
“Let’s begin by clarifying what you want to get out of this,” he continued. “Otherwise, I’m not going to be able to give you what you need.” He leaned forward and rested his hands on the wall behind her. She was trapped, his muscle-padded chest brushing her breasts with his every breath. “Also, I need to be as efficient as possible with my time. In addition to being the pro here and staying in shape for competitions, I work with the college’s athletic department.”
“I know,” she said, glad to have that to talk about. “I’ve heard you and some of the other guys discussing the football team. Look, if you’re trying to tell me you don’t have the time…”
“No. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m making a commitment to you because…because I heard you’d been badly hurt last year.”
He knew that about her? “I’m not sure,” she stammered, suddenly off balance. In addition to feeling exposed and vulnerable, she also felt as if she was becoming part of him, as if her own flesh and sorry muscles were melting into him. Her hands hung by her sides. It was all she could do not to cup them around his cock.
“What aren’t you sure about?”
If he guessed what had distracted her…”I may have made a mistake. I have so much to learn. You’ve seen me blundering around on the equipment. I should start with someone less…”
He was becoming aroused. She sensed rather than saw his cock swell.
“I should have known that was going to happen.” He looked down at himself, then shrugged. “A good workout affects everything.”
She’d never heard that but wasn’t about to call him on it. Neither did she want to discuss his condition.
“Listen to me, Brandy.” He’d been keeping a minimum amount of separation between them, but now he let himself sag forward so the tip of his cock poked her belly. “Bodybuilding is physical. I accepted that a long time ago. You need to too.”
Suddenly angry, or maybe dangerously close to letting him know he was turning her on, she dropped down and slipped out from under him.
He turned toward her. To her shock, heat built in her cunt, and she felt heavy between her legs.
“What is this about?” she demanded. “I’m paying good money for some professional advice. That’s all I want, not…not this.” She indicated his penis.
“I’m not going to apologize for a normal male reaction. Besides, I don’t believe it turns you off. In fact…” His mouth twitched. “Unless I’m not reading you correctly, off is hardly what you’re feeling. Correct?”