Work Me

Title: Work Me
Author: Aidée Jaimes
Genre: Steamy Contemporary Romance
Release Date: July 2, 2019
“No man wants to date a woman that looks like she can kick his ass. Well, I don’t want to a date a man whose ass I can kick anyway.” – Cat
Two fierce competitors go head to head for a chance to own a piece of the number one Boot Camp in the nation. It’s a man against woman fight for success, and Cat has no intentions of losing.
A strong woman inside and out, she’ll be damned if she lets this man-child ten years younger take her out of the running. Sure, he might be the sexiest thing on two legs and every woman at the gym wants to do him. Including her. She doesn’t need a man to take care of her. He begs to differ.
Dean is anything but a kid, and he’s more than happy to prove it to the woman he wants even more than winning. But Dean isn’t used to losing, and he’s not going to start now. He will do whatever it takes to win the competition. And her.
I don’t know why flirting with this young man is so exciting to me. Though I have no plans on ever hooking up with someone younger, it’s thrilling to know that at almost forty, I can still attract someone like him. It’s certainly good for my ego!
Ready for more, hoping he’s not gone by the time I get out there since the night is almost over, I head out. And stop dead in my tracks.
He’s standing right outside the door waiting for me. Our eyes lock, and because I wasn’t ready to see him here, my step falters a little, but just enough that I lose my balance on these damned high heels and stumble.
Strong arms catch me and bring me to a very hard chest.
“Are you okay?” he asks in the deepest voice I’ve ever heard. It rumbles through me even as the rest of my senses take him in. His scent, clean and masculine surrounds me and invades my nostrils. His body, warm and tight. My eyes take in as much as they can.
He’s tall. At my height of five feet ten inches, I’m usually head to head with the men I see. In heels, much more so. But even with my strappy shoes on, he towers over me. His hair, light brown and thick, begs to be pulled. And now, with my face so close to his I can see his gorgeous green eyes, the very ones he’s been watching me with so intensely all night. Still is.
I’m about to pull away, but pause. There’s no point in doing so without getting a little more from him. So, I look up into his eyes, batting my lashes and running my hands up his arms and over his chest. He’s fit, not just in the way young men tend to be even though they eat fast food every day. He’s fit in the way I’m very familiar with. These hard planes and grooves are the kind that a man achieves with hard work, dedicated training and healthy eating.
“I’m fine. Thank you,” I say pulling away.
“I noticed you sitting with your friend,” he says.
“Yeah, I saw you watching.”
“You’re hard to miss.”
Giggling, I say, “Thanks. I’m flattered.”
“You should be.”
“All right, well I should be getting back to my friend.”
“Wait,” he says as I turn, reaching out to take my hand. I pull away, not because I don’t like it, but because I like it too much. “You can’t go without giving me your name.”
“Is that so?” I question, turning away from him again. Before I know what’s happening, I’m pinned, a hard wall behind me and an even harder man in front of me. Thickly muscled arms keep me there, and his nearness forces my eyes up.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I can’t let you go without getting your name. Your number.”
“I don’t think so.” This is exciting me beyond anything, and if I have to be honest, he’s the most handsome man I’ve ever met, too. But he’s too young.
“Why? Are you married? Do you have a boyfriend? Tell me that you are and I’ll leave you alone. But unless I’m misinterpreting the look in your eyes, you want me as much as I do you.”
I try to shove his arm away, but he’s too strong, even for me. Now I don’t know if I’m turned on or if it’s pissing me off. “I don’t do babies,” I grind through my teeth.
“Neither do I,” he says in a voice so low I’d whimper from the very sound of it if it wasn’t for the fact that at that moment he brings his mouth to mine hard, pressing my head back against the wall.
I’m so taken by surprise that I don’t fight it. Instead I respond to it, opening my mouth and letting him in for a taste. They say a woman can tell a lot from a single kiss, and this one is screaming at me that he’d fuck my brains out if I let him.
Blood drains from my body into my clit and it throbs harder the more he deepens the kiss. I am beyond wet. Beyond desperate. My hands roam his back even as they pull him closer to me. He must sense my need, because he presses a leg between mine, and I moan as it makes contact with my core.
A clearing of a throat pulls our mouths apart, but his body remains glued to mine.
“This isn’t the place for a make out session. If you’d like the name of a hotel, I can direct you to a good one down the street,” a man dressed in the restaurant’s signature black pants and button-up informs us.
“Yeah, sorry,” my new friend says, finally extricating himself from my personal space. 
We both laugh as the offended employee walks away.
“I guess that’s our cue. It was nice getting to know you,” I tell him, straightening my ruffled hair.
“You can’t leave me like this.”
“Leave you how?” I try to sound coy, but really I’m trembling. Panting even. Beyond nervous.
“You can’t kiss me and leave me.”
“I didn’t kiss…” He stops me with another kiss, his tongue sliding slowly over mine once before pulling away.
He’s muddling my brain. Even for someone who prides herself on self-control… Well, maybe not self-control. But I do pretend to know what I’m doing very well. Right now, with him so close and his taste still in my mouth, I’m reduced to nothing but a primal mess. “I… We… Me…” He leans in for yet another kiss.
“What’s your name? I have to see you again,” he breathes.
I don’t tell him my name, simply because I can’t remember it right now. Instead, I dumbly reach into my little clutch and pull out a business card.
He looks down into the white card, a strange expression crossing his face so fast I’m not sure I really saw it. Then his lips pull up at the corners, his eyes sparkling in a way that makes me feel like he has something over me. It snaps me out of whatever haze he’s put me in, and I go to snatch my card back, but he’s too quick for me, and it’s far from my grasp.
“Cat. I like that. I’ll be seeing you soon.”
“Don’t count on that. I told you I don’t hook up with children,” I snap at him.
He leans in like he’s going to kiss me, and damn me if I don’t pucker up. But before his lips touch mine, he smiles a knowing sort of smile, and whispers, “I’m no child, kitty cat. But you keep telling yourself that. I’m going to enjoy proving you wrong.”
Aidée Jaimes is a Mexican American author of Historical, Paranormal and Contemporary Romance, who also writes under the pen name Haden Hudson. She lives in Florida with her amazing husband and beautiful daughter.
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