Below the Belt. Sarah Mayberry

used to her. Most fighters’ gyms were light on for women, but they would get over the fact that she looked different from them soon enough. Especially when they realized she wasn’t about to sleep with any of them—including Cooper.

      Cooper’s office was empty when she ducked her head in. She scanned the gym, wondering if she’d missed him in a corner somewhere. She hadn’t. He’d gone. Without saying goodbye.

       He’s your trainer. Like it matters if you say hello or goodbye or up your nose with a rubber hose to him. The only thing that matters is that he knows how to help you become the best.

      She shook off the moment of stupidity. Her grandfather was waiting for her near the door and she forced a smile and gave him a wave.

       Roll on Thursday.

      She had a feeling she was going to need every inch of Dean’s work-hardened body by the time their date rolled around.

      

      HOW COULD A PERSON feel so much frustration and so much satisfaction at the same time?

      It was a question that dogged Cooper over the next few days as he guided Jamie’s training sessions. She was a fast learner—much smarter and more intuitive than Ray or the other two promising young guys he’d taken on. Not that he would ever voice that thought aloud—there was enough male-female politics clogging up the airwaves in the gym without him throwing another element into the mix.

      She knew her body extremely well and only had to listen once when he explained something before she was able to adapt her stance or her action and demonstrate what he was looking for. She was also responding well to his retraining exercises, although she’d grumbled the first time he’d strapped the five-pound soft weights around her ankles. But the added weight at her feet was having the desired affect—every time she lifted her foot following the instinct to kick in defense or attack, she registered the extra load and became conscious of what she was doing. He was confident they would soon rid her of her that fatal hesitation—and once that was gone he had the feeling he was going to have a truly exceptional fighter on his hands.

      That was where the satisfaction part came from. He’d made the right decision in taking her on. She was so driven and committed and full of potential that she deserved a chance to go as far as she could.

      His simultaneous frustration stemmed from the fact that while every day brought progress in her skill level, it also inevitably brought a new form of torture for his already tightly leashed libido.

      He was going insane with wanting her and not being able to have her. He’d never been so hot for a woman before. Perhaps it was because he couldn’t have her. Or perhaps it was something unique to Jamie. Whatever, it was driving him around the bend and leaving him in severe danger of suffering the first case of blue balls he’d had since his teen years.

      He’d had his hands on her enough now, shifting her body into position, guiding her, to know exactly how good she felt. Pretty damn good, was the answer.

      But his lust had moved on from simply wanting to know her physically.

      Now his fantasies involved wanting to hear that husky voice of hers cry out in ecstasy. He wanted to look into her beautiful eyes and see her lose her mind a little. She was always so focused and intent—he wanted her soft and pliant and wanting in his arms, in his bed.

      So, yeah, he was just a little frustrated. With himself, with his body, with the fact that he was in an impossible situation that didn’t look as if it would resolve itself anytime soon.

      It wasn’t as though he hadn’t tried to take care of business with someone more suitable. He’d taken one of his casual girlfriends out on Tuesday night and hadn’t been able to muster even a fraction of the desire he felt for Jamie. Kara was a flight attendant, gorgeous and blond, a woman he’d had plenty of no-strings good times with in the past. He’d been sure she’d do the trick, but after a bout of lackluster kissing and fumbling in his Ferrari, he’d been forced to give up the attempt as a bad joke and drive her home, shaken to realize that wanting Jamie had killed him below the waist where other women were concerned.

      Really freakin’ great. Talk about being between a rock and a hard-on.

      Today, Thursday, he almost groaned out loud when Jamie arrived for her evening workout wearing a pair of Lycra hot pants and a teeny-tiny gym top.

      Did she know? Was she doing it on purpose?

      Admittedly, it was pushing one hundred degrees outside, but was it really necessary for her to flaunt what he absolutely could not have right in his face like this?

      Apparently, the answer was yes.

      “It’s hot out there,” she said as she dumped her bag against the wall. “Days like this I wish I had air-conditioning. Grandpa never gets a good night’s sleep when it’s too hot.”

      He tore his focus from the sheen of perspiration that had formed in her cleavage.

      “Yeah, it’s a killer,” he said.

      “I can work a little later tonight,” she said. “I had the morning shift at the hotel, and I’m meeting a friend around nine or so, so if there’s anything extra you want me to do…?”

      He admired her work ethic, he really did. If he could get his mind out of her underwear, he’d probably think of something really productive for her to do.

      “I want you to work on upper body strength today,” he said. He indicated the weight equipment in the corner. “Let’s see if we can’t get a little more power into those punches.”

      “I’m all about the power,” she said.

      He followed her as she crossed to the four-station apparatus. His attention was glued to her butt the whole way. Realizing what he was doing, he snapped his gaze away and checked to make sure no one had noticed.

      Nope. They were all too busy staring at Jamie’s butt.

      Grabbing the wide bar of the lateral pulldown machine, she adjusted the weight stack and began to do reps. He watched her technique for a few minutes, telling himself that he was doing his job and not checking out her breasts.

      In desperation, he sat opposite her and started to do some tricep pushdowns. Maybe if he got a really good muscle burn going he could stop behaving like a life support system for a hard-on.

      “So when do you think I’ll be ready for my next fight?” Jamie asked as she rested between sets.

      “Got to break that bad habit of yours first,” he reminded her.

      “I know. Just…curious,” she said.

      “Impatient, you mean. Every fighter wants to rush to his next fight.”

      “Her next fight,” she corrected, a gleam of humor in her eyes.

      “Yeah, well, that’s my bad habit,” he admitted. “Got to keep reminding myself who I’m dealing with.”

      As if he needed reminding that she was a woman. His gaze dipped to her breasts. Man, but he wanted to taste her.

      He was surprised by the intent look in her eyes when he returned his gaze to her face. She looked…hungry. Almost predatory.

      His cock tightened as he understood that she’d caught him looking at her and knew that he was thinking about her.

      And she liked it. A lot.

      A bolt of pure desire shot through him.

       Damn.

      “You know what? You should just work your way ‘round the machines,” he said, standing. “I’m going to go for a run. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

      She frowned. “It’s absolutely boiling outside.”

      “Yeah, I know.”

      Maybe all that baked-in heat in the roads and buildings would fry some of this lust