Protein Shake: An MFM Romance Page 3

  The look he gives me in response isn’t one that I’ve seen since we were rangers together in Afghanistan.

  It’s a look that says, Follow my lead, Lieutenant. We’re going in.

  Chapter 4

  Kara

  These guys are really getting on my fucking nerves. I don’t understand why they feel the need to get all in my business and my workout just because they’re so fit…and ripped…and muscular.

  I mean, okay, they’re gorgeous. But that doesn’t mean they can just invade my space.

  In fact, if they weren’t so hot, I would’ve told them off by now. Which is shitty to say, but seriously, it’s harder to turn guys down when they’re this attractive.

  There are plenty of other girls in here that they could have cherry picked to get all up close and personal with, but they picked me. I can’t tell if I’m more self-conscious of my body under their gazes, or if I just feel lucky to have such eye candy to stare back at while we sweat.

  I scout out the rest of strength training section and land on a large, semi-familiar contraption. I mean that in the sense that I’m pretty sure I saw it in a Rocky movie one time―but that’s hardly the same thing as being an expert.

  I make my way over.

  Chase and Eric follow me.

  …okay. I sit at the rowing machine, puzzled by my new fans.

  What do they think they’re going to do here—row it for me?

  I shove the key through the hole to add 60 pounds of weight. This seems like a good place to start. I can just adjust it from there, I guess…and if I can’t, I’m sure one of my new shadows will jump in and do it for me.

  “You boys wanna take a selfie?” I snark up at them. “Or do you just like to watch?”

  I see them both shift in their stances, crossing their arms over their chests and tilting their heads back so their chins jut out, all sexy and stuff.

  God, could they be any hotter?

  But they don’t say anything back to me, so I turn my attention back to the task at hand.

  Here goes nothing. I scoot back and stretch forward to grab the weights. I pull my entire body back and forth and bring my arms in close.

  The two of them don’t move a single gorgeous, perfect muscle. They just stand there, bulging arms crossed, observing me. Part of me really wishes they’d just walk away. I came here to run away from Holly-Ann’s bad influence, and these guys are making me blush while I’m trying to do good for myself.

  Drooling over two super hot guys is not conducive to a focused workout. Neither is becoming hyper-conscious of my body while I wonder what they’re thinking while they stare at it.

  Returning my attention to my exercise, this stupid fucking machine is giving me the run-around. I think I’m doing it right, but I don’t feel any muscles being tested here.

  What am I doing wrong? I feed the bar back into its place and move forward to add more weight.

  “You’re going to throw your back out if you do it like that,” Eric pipes up.

  The tone of his voice sends a shiver up my spine, but I play it off as best I can as I stab the hole of the weight block thing with the key.

  “Yeah, well, you’re going to throw your ass out if you keep talking through it like that,” I snap back.

  I knew they were judging me, dammit. I fucking knew it!

  “Nobody asked you, cupcake.”

  “Your form is fucked up,” he replies. He and Chase share a look and chuckle to themselves at my apparent incompetence.

  “Gee, thanks,” I return, now pissed off at their candidness. “I’ll make a note of it.”

  I grit my teeth and get ready to start rowing like I’m escaping across an ocean.

  “Look, you snarky little twat. I want to help,” Eric says. “But if you’re looking to spend the next two weeks in bed on your back…”

  He gives me a sexy, pearly white-teeth smile, and I don’t understand why, but I can’t stay upset. Maybe because my pussy just got so wet that I’m going to have to wring my panties out after this.

  He’s right, though, dammit. If I’m spending two weeks on my back, I’d rather it be because one of these studs is between my thighs. An injury at this point would just slow me down.

  “Okay,” I relent. “What am I fucking up?”

  “Well, first off, what muscle group do you think that machine is supposed to engage?” asks Eric. “When you sit at a machine, you should always know what it’s supposed to do to know if you’re doing it right.”

  Really? They’re testing me. Clearly, I’ve never done this before, and these meatheads want to quiz me on it. How fucked up is that?

  I feel so fucking stupid already.

  “I was feeling it in my feet, some,” I answer. “So I’m guessing…my legs.”

  “Yeah, that’s awful,” says Chase. “This equipment is designed to work your back, mainly. Here, let me show you.”

  He gestures for me to get off the machine, and like an obedient little bitch, I climb right off of it.

  A second ago, I was the sass queen of the rowing machine. Now, it’s like I’m begging to let him take the lead.

  What the hell has gotten into me?

  Chase hops on and shows me every step I’m doing wrong. I’m a little stirred up at how blunt they are―but it does make me realize that I might be able to learn something. Not to mention I’ll probably pull some muscle out of spite just because I don’t want to be on the receiving end of good-spirited advice.

  I really need to learn how to just take a step back. Watch and learn. All the shit I’ve had my mind on all day has me on edge.

  Plus, watching and learning has never been easier when it comes to the muscles of Chase’s rippling shoulder blades.

  “How about you work on something a bit simpler, but a lot more rewarding?” Eric suggests. “If you’re looking to build muscle quickly, the best way to go is benching weight.”

  I don’t know how I really feel about learning to bench press, but now that I’m not fighting him, his tone is actually sincere.

  I’m just afraid of getting bulky. But something in me tells me to stay with the two of them. Of course, that something is probably just my pussy, but babe…if you could see these men right now, you wouldn’t even blame me.

  I can’t help but stare as we walk to the benches. They’re so perfectly chiseled. Both of them look like they fell out of the sky to serve as demigods.

  I lie down on the bench and scoot around into position. I grip the bar, and Eric immediately grabs my hands and moves them to the right place. I can feel the callouses on his palms, the brute strength coursing through his fingers.

  My heart skips a beat.

  “Here. Let me help you for the first couple of reps. It’ll give you a good feel for the motion and the range of it,” Eric offers.

  The way that he’s flipped from arrogant to helpful has me confused. See, this flip-floppy bullshit attitude is exactly why I didn’t want a trainer. It’s too much emotional labor to try to keep up.

  But as we pump the bar, my concerns fade, and my focus shifts to the workout.

  As we pull the bar up off my chest, part of me has a quick little vision of him pulling my hand onto his cock as he lifts the weight up and down against himself. He could shift my fingers in the exact same way he shifted them on the bar. He could show me exactly the way he wants it gripped.

  Something about how strong these guys are and how easily they could overpower me gets me so hot for them. I would just melt at the sight of their cocks in front of me.

  I caught a sneak peek of Eric’s package through his gym shorts and, holy fuck, do I approve. I wouldn’t mind getting a workout on that thing instead. I would just take his cock and grip it nice and tight and work my biceps and pectorals until I’m blue in the face…or until he blew all over my face. God, fuck yes.

  In fact, I could work both arms out at once. A grin on my face and a cock in each hand. How hot would that be? Pumping cock instead of pumping iron.

&nbs
p; And when they came, it could just go right into my mouth. Like a quick, all natural protein shake.

  “Kara?” pipes up Chase. “Are you ready?” he asks, slightly concerned.

  Shit. I guess I was daydreaming for a little while.

  “Ye-yeah,” I stutter.

  I’m unable to get their cocks out of my head or get my pussy less wet at the thought of them. I shimmy my hips and get myself used to the physical strain of working out while horny, because with these two around, I have a feeling this is just going to be the norm.

  “Good. I thought we might have worn you out already,” Chase responds. He gives me a cute smirk as he stares down at me.

  Eric brings the bar back up to its bracing. He claps his hands against each other before placing them on his hips. The view is upside down for me from where I lay on the bench…but I don’t miss the way his thumbs settle against the v-shape of his Adonis belt.

  “So, Kara. Are you ready to do a couple of reps for us yourself?” he asks.

  I want to tell him I’m ready to do a couple of reps on him, actually.

  “I think I’m ready to give it a shot, yeah,” I choose to say instead. I take a deep breath and grab the bar exactly where Eric showed me to hold it.

  I go to move the weights from the brace, and immediately, the bar comes crashing down towards my chest. But before I’m crushed by a whopping 50 pounds, the guys both grab the bar raise it back up to the brace.

  “…right. We have a lot of work to do here, don’t we?” Eric raises a cocky eyebrow as he looks down at me.

  Fuck. I’m such a weak ass. I’m mortified.

  “Stop the fucking blushing,” Chase reassures me. “Everyone starts somewhere. We’ll just have to spend…a lot of time with you.”

  I gulp hard.

  A lot. Of time. With me.

  I feel my face go even redder. How did I get myself in the middle of this? I’m a perfectionist at heart, dammit, but I’ve never been one to just sit and take criticism from anyone.

  Yet here I am, basking in the glow of their muscle-manliness. Getting embarrassed about my own abilities compared to what they’re able to do.

  They’re arrogant and cocky. They’re practiced and overwhelmingly strong. They don’t seem to know how to take no for an answer, which pisses me off…but fuck, babe—are they beautiful or what?

  They make me want them to like me. I desire to impress them. And I’ve never felt that way before.

  These men are going to put me through my paces. All I can hope is that I can manage to keep up.

  Chapter 5

  Eric

  Ninety-nine percent of the time, women are nothing more to me than hot, wet holes to fuck.

  But Kara…this girl has potential.

  She’s blunt, rude, stubborn, and difficult—and I fucking like that. Means she’s not afraid to fight back.

  I can’t even count how many women bow down right away when I so much as speak to them. I don’t even think anything of it anymore. It’s just the fucking norm at this point.

  But not her. She’s challenging me and making me challenge her right back.

  Well, Kara Gilmore…challenge fucking accepted.

  Let’s be real: anything I compete in, I already know I’ll win.

  It’s just the most probable fucking outcome.

  But the fact that she tries anyway is satisfying. I like a woman with a little fight in her. Makes it all the more satisfying when I finally do win out and bend her to my will.

  What other men might see as too intimidating just gets my blood running. That level of not-so-blind confidence and stubborn pigheadedness is what earned me my empire in the first place.

  I can see myself in this woman. In many, many different ways, if you catch my drift.

  Chase is eyeing Kara hard, too. He’s thinking the same thoughts I am. I can see it on his face.

  He’s fucking her with his eyes right this second, and I can’t even blame him. I’ve already thought about getting her on my cock a more than few times myself and we’ve only just met.

  Chase and I have similar tastes—we have from the start. It’s part of why we’re such good business partners and definitely why we’ve been friends as long as we have.

  If he wants to fuck her, too, I’m game. We can just dick her down twice as hard. That would suit a woman like Kara just fine, I bet.

  Someone needs show this little slice the kind of men who she’s privileged to fuck.

  Chase and I have plowed plenty of women together, but I have a feeling that Kara’s hot little cunt would be an experience, even for us.

  That attitude. That determination to be the best. That stubborn fucking mindset.

  With a little effort, we can take her, break her, and force her to submit.

  She’s fought and argued with us on every machine so far today. The rowing machine, the bench press, dumbbells, squats.

  If we’ve been on it, she’s challenged it. And she’s exhausted from it. She just won’t dare admit it.

  I glance out the window; the sun has already set.

  Fuck.

  What time is it? I pull my wrist up to my chest and check my Fitbit. While my heart rate is spectacular and my steps are up to par, I notice the battery is getting low on it. I fidget with it and see the time.

  It’s seven thirty already. We’ve been here for hours, teaching Kara about this equipment. We’ve been so fixated on the way she moves her svelte little body, we actually lost track of time.

  As I sit flabbergasted that this girl had our attention for this long, a loud grumble comes from my stomach. I slap my rock-hard abs and look over to Chase and Kara.

  Perfect segue.

  “I’m starving,” I announce to them.

  “Shit, man. I am, too,” Chase returns.

  There’s a gleam in his eye. He turns his face to Kara and gestures at her.

  “Want to join us for a post-workout meal? There’s a private chef in the kitchen upstairs—keto, vegan, whatever you’re into, he does it.”

  That sly bastard. Trying to sneak her up to our office for a post-workout workout. I couldn’t be prouder to call him my best friend.

  I can see Kara considering it. Mulling it over behind those pretty blue eyes.

  “As generous as that is, I’m going to have to pass,” Kara says.

  Dammit. Come on.

  “How about a big salad from the bistro down the street?” I chime in.

  Call me crazy, but I don’t want this bitch to leave just yet. I’m way too invested in her.

  Too curious about her.

  “You’ve burned too many calories here today—gotta refuel if you want to do this right.”

  I see her bite her pillowy lower lip in consternation, twisting it beneath her teeth as she fights the idea.

  “I really need to be getting back to my house,” she finally says. “I left my best friend there alone—and I promised I’d spend some time with her today—and I don’t want to be up too late with her since I have to work tomorrow…but you didn’t need to know all that. I really appreciated this little lesson here today. I learned a lot.”

  Little lesson? I’d hope she took away more than just weightlifting from the entire fucking afternoon.

  Kara grabs her bag and water bottle and starts to walk towards the locker room.

  “Hey,” I shout. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I’m going to get changed and…leave?” she responds, a slight note of concern in her voice.

  She’s already being defensive of her choice. That’s fucking adorable.

  “You need to stretch first,” says Chase, stealing the words right out of my mouth. “Gotta cool your muscles down. It helps with the recovery process.”

  “Oh,” Kara says, blushing again.

  She’s fucking cute when she blushes. Bright pink at the tip of her nose and in the apples of her cheeks.

  Seeing her acknowledge that we’re right, watching her following our orders—it’s fucking h
ot. I don’t know which I like better at this point: when she listens or when she doesn‘t.

  So far, I can’t tell which way her response is going to go. It’s a fun little guessing game Chase and I get to play in our heads: will Kara obey or do we need to put her in her place?

  We show her a few basic stretches to relax her muscles, but I know Chase is doing the exact same thing I am while we do it.

  We’re staring at her hot little body, studying her physique as it’s pulled and pushed in whatever direction we want it to go.

  Lots of people come into our gym trying to go from a four to a five, or a six to a seven.

  This bitch is a ten from the fucking get-go.

  “That should do it,” Chase relents to her. “You need to do that after every workout. And next time you’re here, we can show you the kinds of stretches you need to do for a warm up. You’ll be back tomorrow at, say…6:00 a.m. sharp.”

  He’s only half-kidding.

  “Haha. Right. We’ll see,” she laughs as she starts to walk away again.

  “Kara,” I call after her. She turns around and stands, waiting for my next spiel, her head tilted to the side and her eyes rolled. She’s growing impatient.

  That only makes me harder.

  “Yes?” she asks in a short tone.

  “If you won’t eat with us, at least have a protein shake before you go. It’s vital you nourish your body after a long workout like this. Extra protein is the best way to repair muscles,” I explain.

  “I don’t really feel like buying that Muscle Milk shit here. I’ll eat at home. Promise.” She punctuates that statement with a sexy little wink. I have a resting heart rate of 35 bpm and even I can feel my heart skip a beat.

  “Fuck Muscle Milk. This is better. Company brand—this one’s on us.”

  I turn to the Protein Plus fridge a few feet away, grabbing a cold bottle of the improved-recipe stuff out of it.

  Two Girls One Cupcake. Our taste testers fucking love this one…or at least, they do now that it has the new Protein Plus special ingredient inside. I hand it over to her and watch as she scrutinizes the label.

  “Interesting name,” she remarks snarkily, unscrewing the cap. “But I do like the packaging.”