Page 33 of The Associate
I think the first thing I should do is take her to the range and see how her shooting skills are. I don’t even know if she’s held a gun before.
I’ve spent the last few days sitting in my room, pondering what I can do to help Viv and the night I killed Carlos.
I need to burn off some energy I have building inside me; I need to go down to the gym.
Throwing on a pair of basketball shorts and a white V-neck, I make my way down to the basement. Walking over to one of the treadmills, I jump on, putting my headphones on, blasting some metal music and turning the speed up to a light run. Just a little warm-up before I start to push the limits.
Ten minutes pass and I’m already starting to work up a sweat as I push the speed up a little more, starting to stretch out. I take my shirt off as I run, throwing it onto the ground beside me. I zone out again, feeling the rhythm of my feet hitting the belt.
I catch a glimpse of the gym door opening out of the corner of my eye; at this time of day, it usually has a few of the men coming and going. The newcomer to the gym stands up onto the treadmill next to me and starts out at a walk. I glance over and, to my surprise, it’s Viv. She is watching me with a curious look, her eyes scanning my face and my bare chest. I watch her eyes tracing the muscles of my body.
“Do you like what you see?” The corner of my mouth lifts slightly, and her eyes widen.
“I— uhhh.” She stutters. “I—”
I laugh, the first proper laugh I have had in a long time. “It’s ok Princess, you don’t have to answer that question.”
Her shoulders drop in relief. I chuckle again and turn off my treadmill. “What brings you down here?” I ask, leaning my arms over the screen of the machine she is on. She is even more beautiful than she was when I saw her all those years ago.
“I, uhh.” She shakes her head, starting again, this time focusing on my eyes. My bare chest is distracting her. The way she stares has me puffing my chest out. “I needed to work out some frustrations. I have been cooped up in my room for days, with the one occasion of being able to take Mia out into the yard for a short moment of play time.”
I understand what she means. It is rough being locked up in a room for days, but I am working on a solution for her to be able to have some form of freedom.
She presses the off button on her treadmill and leans forward, her face now inches from mine.
“I know there are cameras in here and I know they listen,” she whispers, “but have you got any idea on what we are going to do, where we will start?”
“Not here.” I turn and make my way over to one of the weight benches, adding weight plates to the bar.
Sitting down on the bench, I lay down, placing my hands on the bar. Just as I am about to bench press the weight, I feel a hand press against my chest.
“Well, if not here, then where?” Her voice is a slightly louder whisper. “Because, in case you didn’t know, this whole place is being watched. Being heard.”
I ignore her, continuing with my presses. Counting each of them.
“Do not ignore me.” She is right in my face now, voice so loud she’s nearly yelling.
Carefully placing the bar back in its place, I sit up so fast that she stumbles backwards towards the wall slightly. I stand, stalking my way over to her, my eyes focused on her. I glance up at the camera above us. The only camera in the gym. I make sure we are out of its view.
My gaze locks onto hers, and I can almost see the full whites of her eyes as I step forward, closing into her personal space. With each of my steps forward, she takes one backward, until she pushes herself up against the wall with nowhere else to go. I press my body against hers, my hand at the base of her throat, holding her there. My lips move towards her ear. “Do not take that tone with me,” I growl. “I have been cooped up in my room for three days, trying to think of what kind of training you may need. What I need to do and how we go about everything.”
“I —” she starts, but I place a finger over her lips.
“No, let me finish.” My voice is low. “I am trying to figure out the aspects of everything we need to do. I want to be rid of this just as much as you, but I also need to work out how to ask your father for your hand without making it seem like it is just for a plan. He needs to believe me. That will be the first part of the plan.”
I feel her throat bob under my hand as she swallows.What is she thinking?I move my head backward to try and get a read on her face. Her eyes flicker to mine, a look of lust flashing for a moment.
Without a second thought, my lips connect with hers, that same spark from the first night at the bar coursing through my body. She pushes into the pressure around her neck as her hands trace the lines of my abs, and up over my pecs. I push into her, kissing her harder. Her lips part, her tongue pressing against my lips, and they part to let her in. She lets out a little moan into the kiss. A growl rumbles in my throat. I push against the wall with my left hand, shoving away from her, leaving us both standing there panting.
“That shouldn’t have happened,” I say, turning around and walking back over to where my shirt lay on the weight bench. “Maybe this is a bad idea.”
“Mason, please.” Her voice is hoarse.
“No Genevieve,” I growl. “No, we need to plan first.”
“There is more in that.” Her hand waves at the area we had both been moments ago in a lip lock. “That we both know means so much.” She walks over to me, placing her hand on my shoulder, her voice a loud whisper. “There is something between us and you fucking know it.”
“That’s what scares me.” I turn and face her. “It scares me because I am a monster, I was raised as a monster. I was raised to kill. It was your father who taught me to do the things I do, to be the person I am today.”
