I wake up and stretch my hand grabbing my phone. The screen lights up showing me the time, 7 a.m. I should jump up and make a run for my office but I just get up lazy and knowing where to find him, I take myself down to the gym.
On my way, I throw Casey a smile as I find her behind the kitchen counter preparing our breakfast and humming an old grandma song. "Morninggg." I sing around a yawn prompting her to look up and smile back.
"Salmon Sandwich sounds good." She asks pleasantly, buttering a toasting.
"Sounds delicious." I throw a wink at her way and before turning around the massive pillar, I hear her resume her soft humming.
I stand on the other side of the glass door and watch his sweat drenched back flexing and rippling as he pounds the treadmill while watching the sports news on the suspended television.
Opening the door quietly, I wander in and take myself around the front of the machine, sitting my ass on the weights bench before him. He's running very fast, and when I lean back on my on hand and bring the other running my fingers on my right nipple ring, he slams his fist on the slow button, and starts a steady pace down until he's stopped completely.
My sleepy eyes are beside themselves, watching as he grabs a towel and runs it through his hair and over his face. He's a mass of pure, solid, shimmering sweatiness. I could eat him. I shift on my ass feeling the familiar wetness filling my channels and clench my cheeks.
I'm being watched very closely as he bends forward resting his forearms on the top of the control panel. "Good Morning." His eyes briefly homes on my nipple as I work my fingers on it and tug the ring then he's back at my eyes.
"Morning. Why are you running in here?" I already know the answer to that question, and if I'm going by the tiny, barely noticeable smile on his face, he knows I know the answer to that question, too.
He shrugs his muscular shoulder stepping down from the treadmill. "I thought of using the machine," he brushes his palm over the control panel as if wiping off the dust. "It was laying here useless."
I throw him a lazy lopsided smile. If being pregnant stops him from dragging me out of bed at break of the dawn for a trek around Westwood, then I'm looking more forward to the next seven months. "Why didn't you wake me up?"
"You threw up the whole night." Gabriel grabs a small water bottle and I grimace remembering last night. He glugs down some water before releasing an 'ahh-ish groan'. "I was happy to have you tucked into my side, so I let you be. I thought little extra sleep would help. How are you feeling? And how are my ?"
At that, I stretch my hands over my head. "Better I guess." I mumble through a loud yawn. "What's your plan for today?"
"BT and then the Skyline." He walks over to the punching bag and feather jabs on the hard cylindrical surface, sending it into moving to-fro. "You wanna come with me to the Skyline."
I'm pleased that he is asking me and not ordering to go with him. "I'm thinking of doing some work. I told you about this crazy client of mine who preponed her wedding?" I decline his request politely.
He's already shifting on his feet, arms fisted in front of this chest in a defensive stance then they are fly in succession smacking on the bag hard again and again, and sending it sailing away from him as it returns.
"Yeah," He grunts and pummels the bag with his left bare fist this time. I wince at that. His hands are working in a rhythm of a pro as I sat watching him intrigued.
"Why are you not wearing gloves or covering your hand?" I ask and cock my head to a side.
Smirking he gives me a brief glance before knocking the back powerful punch and even more powerful kick. "No pain no gain baby."
