Dante Harris was running. Running from an abusive past. Running from a messy break up. Running from the life he left in the small city of Round Rock Texas.
Somehow this small town boy has found himself in the busy streets of New York City, and in t...
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Sammy
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When Dante's body came into view, every part of me stilled.
His rich caramel skin was enticed by droplets of sweat that slid down the deeply chiseled muscle. He used his wet shirt to try and wipe himself down. All I could do was linger on every individual movement.
He moved quickly, yet he was careful not to brush too hard against the bruise on his side. It honestly wasn't looking good, and I was surprised to see Dante training like he barely noticed it. When he brought the shirt back up to his chest, my eyes followed intently until they unexpectedly found his.
He was staring straight at me.
It was Grayson's hand firmly coming down on my shoulder, which practically pimp smacked me back to reality. "Are you even listening to me, man?" He asked harshly.
I mumbled a half-assed apology, and got back into rotation with the veterans.
Dante
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I was now one hundred thousand percent positive Sammy was undressing me with his eyes.
He wasn't giving much of a fuck to conceal it either.
Throughout the day, I felt his gaze on me as he watched the novices train. My assumptions were that he was going to be rotating between the two ranked groups, but he stayed on the novices side for most of the morning.
He also didn't do much of anything but stand there and watch.
I, on the other hand, were a few breathes shy of passing the fuck out. It was ungodly hot in here even with the few fans Grayson brought out. Anyone who was doing any sort of exercise, was sweating their balls off. We literally had to wipe down the mats to keep people from slipping on the sweat that dripped onto it.
