"I sense there's abutcoming," Jarvis guesses.
"Well spotted. Like I said, success came at a cost. My marriage for starters. Piper was a wonderful woman and a terrific mother, and she wasn't unreasonable in wanting me to be a husband to her and a father to our boys. But I had to choose, and I chose providing for them instead of being there for them. I'd say that's my biggest regret. I worked so hard to build a life for my family, only to wake up one day with all the money and power in the world and no family around to enjoy it with."
"But you're close to your kids now, right?"
"I'm very lucky that I am. I hate to admit they make more of an effort with me when it should be the other way around. I'm so proud of the men they've become, all different and unique in their own ways but good, decent people. I hope I played some small role in instilling those values in them."
"I'm sure you did."
Jarvis slides his hand up and down my forearm before quickly pulling it away.
I wish he hadn't. I wish he'd kept it there for just a little longer.
I glance sideways at him. No easy smile, just teeth gnawing into his lower lip.
"That was okay," I tell him, sensing his uncertainty about the arm touch.
He chews his lip for a few more seconds. "You sure?"
I don't know what's going on with me, but there's no uncertainty in my voice when I answer. "Yes. I'm sure."
6
Jarvis
"You're doing good. Just two more," I say in full-on PT mode, my hands ghosting the undersides of Anson's arms in case he needs the support as he lifts the dumbbells over his head.
He lets out a heavy grunt that does nothing to quell my full-blown attraction to the guy. It's our fifth session, and I can't fool myself anymore. The beach walk a few weeks back unlocked something in him. He's been more relaxed and open ever since, which is great news on the training front but not so great news on the crushing on my client front.
"Fuck!" he cries out, dropping the dumbbells onto the padded floor of hisprivate gym. Imagine my surprise when on my third visit, I asked if he wanted to work out in the building's gym and he guided me here, a private oasis of weight equipment and cardio machines.
"That's amazing, Anson. Your best workout yet." I register the reps on my iPad, beaming with pride. For someone pitched to me as being out of shape and lacking motivation, Anson sureis doing a stellar job. "Now, for your cooldown today, what'll it be—cold plunge or sauna?"
Because, yes, he's got both in his penthouse.
"Sauna," he pants, reaching for his drink bottle and guzzling down water so fast it spills out the corners of his mouth, dribbles down that delectable chin with the slight cleft, and soaks into his tank top baring two strong, sun-browned arms.
"Cool. I'll turn it on for you."
When I return, there's a spark of fire in his eyes I suspect has nothing to do with the workout he's just completed.
"Don't suppose you can stay and join me?"
The words come out of his mouth a little rough around the edges…OrrrI'm imagining all of this because I'd like to believe that Anson is fantasizing about me as much as I am about him.
My latest obsession? His fingers. I noticed them properly during our last session. Broad knuckles taper into long,thickfingers that look like they know their way around anything they touch. And I want them to touch me. So,sobadly.
"Uh, I don't know…"
"Have you got another appointment?"
Yes, with my dildo.
"No, I'm done for the day."
Once I ride the hell out of that ten-inch fucker.
"I don't mean to put you on the spot or make you uncomfortable. It just feels a bit weird baking in a sauna by myself."