But I watched as Clark jumped up and grabbed the bar, his back covered in a layer of sweat as every chiseled muscle flexed.
Up and down.
He counted them out, and somehow, he even made counting sound sexy as hell.
“Ninety-eight,” he said, his muscles flexing with every movement. “Ninety-nine. One hundred.”
I shook my arms, begging them to give me two more so I didn’t look as weak as I felt at the moment.
Clark wiped his forehead and pointed at the bar. “Last two, Weeze. You’ve got this.”
I cleared my throat before jumping up and barely catching the bar. My arms were already shaking, and Clark moved right in front of me, where my body hung like a dense weight.
Dig deep, Eloise.
My arms shook so much, it was difficult to get my chin above the bar, but I did it.
“Nine,” he said, standing so close I could feel his breath on my abdomen where my tank top rode up. “One more.”
“Okay,” I huffed, attempting to pull, but not going anywhere.
That’s when two large hands gripped each side of my hips, and I startled.
“Let me help you,” he said.
“No!” I squealed, trying to shake him off. “Because then you’ll say I didn’t finish them.”
“Don’t be a stubborn ass,” he hissed, as he attempted to push me up.
My arms were on fire, but I wasn’t ready to concede. So I did the only thing I could think of before falling to the floor in a heap.
My feet swung up, landing on his shoulders, just so I could catch my breath for a second and readjust my hands.
But the sexy jackass took it upon himself to pull my legs over his shoulders, his hands on my lower back.
Great. Now his face was pressed against my lower belly.
“What the hell are you doing?” I said, trying not to laugh because even though it was totally inappropriate, my arms weren’t shaking anymore, and it was the much-needed break I’d been desperate for.
“I wasn’t going to have you stand on my shoulders, Weeze. Your head would have hit the bar,” he said with a chuckle.
I took a few beats to slow my breathing as he sang along to Morgan Wallen as if this were perfectly normal for me to be straddling his neck.
“Well, nothing about this feels professional,” I huffed, as I readjusted my hands on the bar. “Okay, I’ve got it now.”
“All right, do your thing. Go at your own pace,” he said.
I started to lift up, but my arms felt like jello. I was just able to raise myself enough to put my groin directly in his face. “Oh my god! Back up, Chadwick!”
“Not going to let you fall, I’ve got you. And damn, you smell good, even when you’re working out.”
Was he referring to my vagina? Because that was currently right in front of his nose at the moment.
I pulled with everything I had, lifting myself just enough for my forehead to touch the bar before my arms gave out, and I tumbled down, crashing into Clark.
His loud laughter boomed as he caught me in the most awkward position.
One hand on my ass and the other on my rib cage, his large hand dangerously close to copping a feel of my breast.
