Vivian Arend - High Risk

She grinned and plopped back on the edge of the mattress, far enough away that he’d have to lunge to grab her. “I feel wonderful. Your miracle tea and the rest of the night’s sleep did wonders. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Good thing one of them had gotten some rest. “Plans for the day. You have anything you need to do?”

She shook her head. “I’ve got the week organized, so if we want to train this morning, I’m game.”

“Breakfast first?”

“God, yes, I’m starving.” Becki stood and went to her bag, pulling out clothing before swinging away from him toward the bathroom. “I’ll shower, then you can tell me what to make, okay?”

Being around her was comfortable. Relaxed.

Maybe too relaxed. Marcus lay back for a moment and debated the wisdom of getting into the shower with her and starting all over again. He hadn’t had nearly enough of her yet.

She was right, though. Getting out for a while wasn’t a bad idea. Burn off a little energy, then they’d come back and see what other mischief they could get into. So he ignored his morning wood and slipped to the kitchen to see what he had in the house. Something with a lot of calories to make sure they had enough to keep going for a long, long time.

The first hour of training was a complete and utter failure. Becki collapsed onto the mat beside him and cursed wildly.

Marcus waited for her to finish letting off steam. He rested his hand on her thigh, rubbing lightly as she lay with her arms crossed over her face.

She’d warmed up, roped in, and attempted to climb. Each time she’d been no higher than the five-foot marker before she’d call for a stop and he’d lower her to safety. He’d suggested other routes, other things she could do to train, but she’d insisted.

She might be willing, but her fear was having nothing to do with it. She was like a clipped bird, stuck on the ground.

Her chest heaved as she dragged in a huge breath and released it slowly.

“What am I going to do, Marcus? I can’t wrap a blindfold around my head and expect you to follow me everywhere, talking me through routes.”

Frustration and anger—at herself—screamed out no matter how softly she’d spoken.

“Why are you pushing so hard to go vertical?” he asked. “You need to get into shape again, and there’s no reason why you can’t do that while staying close to the floor.”

She cranked her elbow out of the way to deliver a scathing glare. “Baby steps.”

“I’ll join you,” Marcus offered. “Come on, it’s way more fun to have someone else to work over and laugh at when they fall off a section you aced than worrying about what you can’t change right now.”

Becki flipped to her stomach and crawled toward him. “Stop being reasonable. I was getting ready for a good pout, and you had to go and ruin it for me.”

He caught her around the waist and pulled her close. Becki rested her hands on his shoulders while his fingers teased the line of skin at the edge of her shorts. “Sorry, but tell me that reasonable isn’t what you’d have suggested if our positions were reversed.”

“Hmm, reversed positions. Now you’re onto something.” She made contact with his chest and pushed. The move came quickly enough that he lost his balance, landing on his back to discover he was looking up at her. She’d straddled him, a shining grin exchanged for the anger she’d shown only a moment before.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” he warned. “I just suggested wall circuits. I’m not going to fool around until you’ve done at least two.”

“Oh, really?” Becki undulated her hips, and he gave his dick hell for reacting.

She leaned down, the swoop of her climbing top low enough to reveal the rounded line of her cleavage. He looked forward to exploring her all over again very shortly, but first? Self-control was demanded. “You know you want to climb.”

Becki planted her hands on either side of his head and sighed lustily. “I want to climb you, but fine. Work first. Play later.”

She kissed him. Lips soft and warm. Eager tongue slipping to tangle with his. The position put her full-out over the top of him, and he was seriously considering throwing the workout aside for at least an hour when there was a loud slam, and a rush of cooler air filled the room.

She sprang back, scrambling to her feet. Marcus joined her as three people walked through the door, their loud joking echoing in the gym.

“I still don’t believe you did that.” Tripp poked Devon in the chest. “Alisha is going to kill you.”

“She’s got to catch me first.” Devon stopped a few feet away from them, his bright grin innocently shining out. “Hey, Marcus. Becki. What’s up?”

Marcus looked over his team. Devon, Tripp, Xavier. “What’re you doing here on a day off?”

“Interview for the paper. The reporter wants shots to accompany the article, and we figured David wouldn’t mind if we used the gym.”

Devon seemed oblivious, but Tripp was giving Becki and him some pointed looks. Xavier had already wandered off to the change room, no doubt to grab harness and climbing shoes.

“Umm, you don’t think David will mind, do you?” Devon fidgeted, finally picking up on some of the tension in the room.

Marcus wanted to say yes, but he couldn’t lie, no matter how much he regretted losing their privacy. Of course, now the likelihood of getting their workout completed increased exponentially. “Not a problem at all. We’ll stay out of your way.”

He joined Becki in the corner where she’d retreated. “Sorry about that. You still game to continue?”

She leered at him dramatically, then laughed. “Well, sure. Why not?”

He glanced around quickly, and when he realized they were alone for a moment, he leaned in, caging her with his body. “You know what you started earlier?”

A slight wiggle was enough to rub them together intimately. “Yeah?”

“We’re finishing later. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Becki rotated slowly, rubbing her butt against him as she got into position on two small holds barely off the ground.

He wanted to lean over and bite her, but the guys burst from the change room at that moment.

Plans postponed, not cancelled.

She settled into a routine. Stepped to a new hold, joined her feet or crossed them over. All the time as she traversed, she never picked any hold higher than her arm’s length up.

She might have called this exercise baby steps, but it was still valuable conditioning, and they both knew it.

“Hey, stop staring at my ass and get moving,” Becki taunted, too softly for the boys to hear on the far side of the gym.

“It’s a nice ass.”

She laughed, and something inside him rejoiced at seeing her making the best of it.

He switched attachments on his prosthetic, leaving the claw behind for a small ax-shaped device instead. One side a point, the other flat, he could use it pretty much like a hand without worrying about it coming apart or getting stuck on him.

He paced past Becki, supposedly to check her positioning, but really to take advantage of the position she was in. He caught hold of her ankle and adjusted it, lightly stroking her inner thigh until he paused with his hand cupped over her sex. He kept his body between her and the team, blocking his movements.

“You know, whatever you do I’m doing back to you first chance I get.” Becki pumped her hips over his fingers.

Marcus glanced over his shoulder to ensure that his team was otherwise occupied. “You can grope me anytime you’d like.”

“Game on,” Becki whispered.

The exercise should have been called sexual tension repeats. She hopped off the wall and challenged him to try a section. The entire time he worked on placing his hand, hook, and feet, she was right behind him, touching him under the guise of “guiding him into position.”

“There’s a nice spot longing for you to fill it over here, Marcus. Slip your fingers in nice and slow. That’s right. Oh, yeah, and now push with your hips. Another inch. Hmmm, come on, give it everything you’ve got.”

He took smaller steps as his cock reacted. Fell off the wall to get a little relief. Then he’d turn around and taunt her in return, both of them working like the devil to keep their laughter and filthy comments low enough not to be overheard by the others.

When the knock sounded, Marcus had almost forgot about the reporter. He briefly debated ducking into the change room until the invader and his accompanying cameraman left. But the team seemed to have it under control. Becki watched for a moment with a wary expression, and Marcus leaned in close.

“You look thrilled to see them.”

“Let’s just say reporters aren’t my favourite people.”

Marcus paused. “You want to get out of here?”

Becki nodded. “If you don’t mind. We can stretch in the dorms or something.”

He bumped her to draw her attention from where she was staring across at the two men setting up camera equipment. “You’re not trying to get out of spending the day with me, are you?”

Her eyes were tired, but she smiled. “Sorry. Distracted. No, we can go back to your place. I’m good with that.”

He wanted to see that smile return that she’d worn only moments before.

Marcus motioned to her gym bag, then grabbed his own things, keeping Becki close by his side. They’d almost made it when he noticed the reporter waving.

Ignore the man and pretend he hadn’t seen? They weren’t close enough to the door to duck out without making it obvious that their departure was an escape.

“Heads up, Becki, company,” he warned as the reporter jogged across the room.