The Only Way is Up

Part Six

Chapter Six

He was sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, bare legs emerging from his three quarter shorts, and his tanned muscular arms crossed on top of his knees. His face was flushed, his hair damp, he looked like he'd been running. His angular youthful face was upturned and he was watching her from under his long dark eyelashes.

His eyes were haunting and she felt inadequate in his gaze. Hoping she didn't blush, because that would be embarrassing, she came to a stop in front of him.

"Sorry, to keep you hanging around. I just need to change."

He nodded silently, and she could feel his eyes on her as she made for the rather unsavoury changing room.

Maxim felt strange, he'd needed to do something, and in her absence he'd hit a punch bag. Colin one of the older trainers worked with him, and in forty minutes he felt that familiar sensation of his body burning, his heart pounding and the adrenaline surging. It was rewarding, and replaced the dark thoughts that were constantly occupying his mind. But sitting here, coming down from that adrenaline high was leaving his mind vacant and he hated that his father was invading his head again.

Then Nicole had walked in, all prim and proper in a business suit. It was then he realised that he hadn't seen her in anything other than some scruffy slouchy gear, now here she was smart, in charcoal grey, a white blouse tight across what was a deceptively impressing chest. He'd not noticed, never realised that underneath she was shapely, yes she was larger than most women he knew, but with her hair scooped up into a top knot, strands falling rather seductively down over her face, she was a million miles from the woman he'd been training with.

Before he processed that, she was back in front of him, her uniform of grey sweats and baggy t-shirt making him wonder if he had imagined the woman who'd stepped into this place moments earlier.

"Treadmill." He instructed, then watched her cross the room obediently, not that he expected that demeanour to last, she wasn't usually.

But this time as he watched her go, he found his eyes searching beyond the clothes, for the hints of the curves that he'd spotted earlier. As she broke into a run her arms started to pump, and the cotton of her t-shirt pulled tight across her chest, and his body almost exploded at the distinct swell of an ample breast.

Shit, he inwardly cursed, now he'd have to try and stand without her noticing his sudden hard on. Awkwardly he moved beside her, and instead of watching her, he jumped onto the treadmill beside her and kicked up his speed, joining her at a fast jog rather rapidly. Her eyes flitted up at her and glancing across, he shrugged, he couldn't explain what he was doing either, instead he matched her pace for pace.

Twenty five minutes later Nicole collapsed face down on a mat, she'd done ten planks and her body was burning. After a few breaths, and a stretch to her body, she turned her head to the left, Maxim was sat next to her, but from her low angle all she could see was his left knee. She stared at the dark hairs that covered it for a moment, before tilting her head back to follow up his body to his face. Those same hooded eyes were watching her right back.

"So what's made you even more sadistic today? Is this because I was late?"

He studied her for a long moment before those full lips parted and he offered, "no, this is a normal ramp up in intensity."

Shaking her head, KNOWING that it was more than that, she returned her forehead to the mat, "I don't believe that. You look angry...like you haven't slept..."