Loving Mr. Bad BoybyLady Zendora©
I was minding my own business. Legs moving, arms pumping, music jamming, lungs working, I was feeling alive and loving it. I always felt this way when I was working out.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a guy hoping onto the machine beside me. A flash of black tattoos on his forearm, turned by head in his direction. In just that simple glance I found myself stunned as the treadmill went on without me. A few brief seconds, I barely manage to recover my dignity and pretend like I meant to almost fall of the treadmill. After that I quickly lowered my speed, and took deep calming breaths to lower my heart rate also. Whether it was my speed or my reaction to his good looks, the jury was still out on that verdict. The simple fact was the guy next to me was a pure and total babe. A bad ass, bad boy babe. The type that lonely housewives and single women became addicted read romance novels over.
Over six feet tall with skin tanned from riding a Harley, well I he looked like a Harley man. He had several tattoos, that I could make out peeking out of his tank from the corner of my eye, but he ones on both his forearms were the most noticeable. With loose knee length workout shorts, he had enough of his body on display to make me sweat a bit harder than just from my workout. Seeing those broad shoulders, bugling biceps and lean muscular calves, I found myself once again at the end of the treadmill belt. Glancing around making sure not one had seen my folly again, I pushed myself to move up towards the control panels to lower my speed further.
The most interesting part of him was his face. Full suck-able lips, eyes the color of the sky on a bright summers day, an once elegant nose, bearing the history of a break that never was set right, sporting a noticable bump in the brigde. An earlobe with a single diamond stud, I don't know if both ears were pierce since I was only glancing at his profile. Topped off with long silky blonde hair that was pulled back into a thong ending between his shoulder blades.
Definitely a bad boy, in my book, one that any woman wouldn't mind chance to make good. For me however, he was best admired from afar. Which for me meant, I simple pretended he doesn't existence, even if I'm aware of every breath he takes, and every move he makes, I'll be watching him.
So getting myself under control, after filling up my fantasy tank on Mr. Bad Boy, with plans to fodder my day dreams with him, I turned up my speed and my music and went back to losing myself in my thoughts. Mr. Bad Boy was soon forgotten for now, as the treadmill and I raced nowhere.
In a corner, out of the way of the major flow of the gym, covered with sweat, my shirt, sticking to my back, I gracefully collapsed down onto the mat and began stretching my legs. I moved slowly and graceful from warrior into cobra positions, letting my breathe slowly lead me into my stretches. In the middle of a relaxing yoga move, while enjoying my peaceful solitude, I heard a nearby male voice say, "You really good at that."
With an arch eyebrow and a half smile I turned to give some a thank you and found sky blue eyes watching me as Mr. Bad Boy did push ups beside me on the mat.
"Thanks." I said, not sure of what else to say, tearing my eyes away from his bugling biceps. I lowered my head down to my knees, trying to gather my scatter wits and decide on what position to move into next, with him watching my every move. Still unsure, I straighten up to a sitting position and moved into some basic stretches.
"You run a lot? I noticed the shirt your wearing." Mr. Bad Boy asked as he turned around and began doing situps. The man was not even breathing hard. The shirt in question was an old shirt I got last spring from a benefit 5K race. I hadn't run the whole thing, but I hadn't walk it either. Not bad for a seasonly excisers.
"Uh, not really, just when the mood hits, or I get signed up for a good cause." Deciding it would not kill me to talk to him. He was just being friendly.
With a small laugh, he said, "That's how I am. When the mood hits. Like being stressed out or just needing to think."
Stopping on what had to be his one hundered and ninety-seven situp, he wiped his hand off on his towel before extending it out toward me. "Josh Kruse, by the way.".
"Katherine Johnston," I said noticing how long is fingers were, and how firm his grip was on my hand. "Most people call me Kat for short."
My fingers started tingling and the sensation move up my arm from his where his hand touched mine.
Okay, I thought to myself trying to calm down the body that was taking move from this than just a hand shake. One he's just being nice; two, your probably not his type; and three, you'll only get hurt in the long run.
"Nice to meet you." he said casually with a quiet grin.
With a tense smile I rose from the mat. "Nice meeting you too. Okay I'm finish here." Glancing around for anything I might be leaving, not really wanting to look into his face, for fear of what I might find. Muttering, "Have a nice day." I turned, walking quickly to the nearest exit, feeling his eyes watching my backside as I retreated, to I was to chicken to turn around.
The next day, I was back at the gym, around the same time as the day before. A small part of me hoping to run into Mr. Josh "Bad Boy" Kruse again.
Five minutes into my workout, he entered, nodding a greeting my way, before jumping onto the treadmill beside mines. For the next thirty five minutes we jogged together. Actually his was thirty minutes, but I waited until he was through.
Getting off, he greeted me going through the usually, hellos, how are you's. And me responding in the same.
Now came the test. Would he go to weights, while I headed for the mats, or would he follow me?
My heart leapt as he followed, taking the greeting ritual to another level. Small talk. Through sit ups, push ups, dips, and stretching we talked. This time he did not permit me to run out on him, but instead walked with me to the parking lot.
"Hey, you want to go out sometime?" he asked, nearly stopping my heart in shocked excitement. Just as quickly it came, the initial excitement died, as I thought about all the games of phone tag that would go probably end nowhere. If he wanted me, he was going to have to work for me.
Narrowing my eyes in challenge, keeping my voice light and cool, "Sure, I would like to go out. Do you have a time in mind?
With a casual shrug, "How about tonight? A nice restaurant for dinner?"
Hhhmmm, tonight, huh? Nice restaurant? What was this man getting at?
After a brief period of thinking and still having no answers, I handed over my card. "Sure. Here's my number. You can all me to work out the detail."
"Here, I'll give you one of my cards." Heading to a cherry red Cobra mustang, parked a few spaces away, he unlocked the door, reached in and produced a small card. Handing me a holographic card, reading Josh Kruse, CEO of Amadis.
"What's Amadis?" Curious that this Mr. Bad boy was CEO of something.
"It's my software gaming company. Ever heard of Merlin's Quest, or Psych Ward; those are computer games my company designs." Pride was evident in his voice as he spoke.
"Cool." I was impress. Mr. Badass, was handsome, intelligent, and well off, not a bad combo package. "Wish I could say I do something fascinating, but I'm just a teacher."
His eyebrows raised in amazement. "Wow. I am impress. Couldn't do what you do for nothing. I remember what a little shit head I was in school and all the torture I put my teachers through. Okay, here's my number, my home phone number is on the back. Cell and office on the front. I'll call you around three to verify."
We stood there unsure of what to do next. Him, just standing, leaning against his car looking at me in my sweaty outfit, with wet hair sticking to my face, and me just standing there looking back at him. Finally I just manage to move, breaking the spell he had over me.
"It's getting hot out here. I better get going, so I can shower. I'll talk to you later. Bye." With that I turned and began walking towards my car.
"Okay. Talk to you then. Bye." I heard him from behind as he entered his car.
I watched him as he manuevered his car out of the lot, his manner confident and easy. Then I looked at myself in the rearview mirror. My make up free freckled caramel brown face was shiny and wet from sweat, still rolling down my forehead in droplets. My hair was covered with a faded sweat soaked scarf and the little that showed was plastered to my face. Simple brown eyes stared back at a average looking face, not ugly, but not gorgeous, simple pretty. I was not athletic, healthy was more like it. A good healthy size girl, with big busted, slighty rounded belly, and wide hips. Remembering again at the lean white tiger of a man that just asked me out, I sat staring for a while longer trying see what he saw in this plain tabby cat looking back at me.
At exactly three o'clock he called. We repeated the greeting ritual, then talked about possible restaurants options. With him finally successfully manuveuring me to agree to some little non franchised place with great Italian food. With that figured out we came to the question of transportation. Did I want to drive myself or did I want to have him pick me up? Taking a risk, I gave him my address, and agreed to a time.
"I'll see you then." Were his parting words that had me grabbing a pillow to muffle my screams of excitement.
It took approximately four hours and twelve minutes to get dress. Most of that time, was spent with me trying on every sred of clothing I possessed in my closet, to finally settle on my favorite skin tight jeans, a nice white silk blouse and a pair of gold mules. The rest of the time was spent on making myself feel like a million bucks. I gave a fourth pray of thanks for the emergency beauty shop appointment I managed to grab earlier in the day.
At seven o'clock I dumping all the essential items needed into a small purse for this date, when I heard a knocked at my door. With my heart racing in anticipation, I moved quickly, closing the door of my bedroom to hiding the huge mess of clothes, shoes, and makeup I would have to deal with later. Checking myself one more time in the hall mirror, I opened the door and was blown completely away.
Mr. Bad Boy was looking mouth watering fine. If I thought he looked good in the gym, he looked super deluxe good now. Wearing hip hugging jeans, white shirt, black cowboy boots, and a black sports jacket. He looked like he was here for a beefcake calendar photo shot, instead of date.
His gazed traveled down my body, taking in every detail with intense interest stopping at my fire engine red painted toenails, then raising his eyes up to my face he gave me a slow suductive smile in approval.
His smile almost made me slam the door in his face, fighting down the need to hide under my bed. A gorgeous man smiling like that, could do real damage to a girl's heart.
"Hi." My voice sounded loud and strained, making me wince mentally. Remember cool and collect, make him work for you. I realized now, I would going to need a lot of personal pep talks to make it through this date in one piece.
"Hi." he responded, pulling a bouquet of red tipped yellow roses from behind his back.
"Oh!" I squealed in surprised delight. Yes, I squealed. Some girls get flowers all the time, I'm not one, so for me this deserved a squeal. Damn! I should have slammed the door in his face and hid under my bed.
Taking the flowers, I motioned him into my humble abode, while I dashed into the kitchen to put the roses in water.
In the living room he admired at my collection of art work, photos and nick knats. "Very nice place you got. I see you've traveled to Rome, Paris, London, New York, and this one of you at...?"
Peering from out of the kitchen at what he was looking at. "Oh, that's at Disney World."
"I see you enjoy traveling."
Having found a decent home for my roses, I walked out of the kitchen. "Yeah, I want to go to Morocco next. But that still in the planning phase." I said with a wistful sigh. "Okay I'm ready."
Walking towards me I could not help but to admire the smooth grace of the man and his crotch region."I hope your hungry?"
Feeling a bit flirty with a smirk on my lips, I replied. "Depended on what it is? I suddenly have a craving for a thick meaty sausage. Do you think that's on the menu?" There, top that one.
With my back to him as I locked my apartment door, he leaned forward. His body inches from mine, he replied in a low husky voice near my ear, that sent tiny temors of desire coursing down my back, not just from his warm breath on my neck, but from the words he spoke, "Whatever you desire."
Hiding my blush, I declared a cease fire.
The Italian place was packed with a long wait for tables. There was an Middle eastern restaurant a little ways down that I knew was good, so we headed over there.
I had forgotten two major things about this particular restaurant. One, was you sat on the floor and two, they had belly dancers that moved through the dining area shaking their hips right at diners head level.
For the next two hours we talked, laughed, and snorted. I snorted, it kind of snuck out, when he tried to prove his manhood by eating a particular very hot and spicy dish. His face turned a very interesting shade of red, with him diving for water. The infamous snort escaped while mixed in with my peals of laughter as I collapsed in my cushion.
"Ha, ha, Ha." He muttered between gulps of water and gasping air to cool his mouth. His face was no longer red, but a hot pink.
Narrowing his eyes at my opening grinning face, "You'll get yours my pretty. You'll get yours." he said, in an decent imitation of the wicked witch of the west voice.
If I'd known how soon I was going to get mines, I would not have rubbed his folly in so merrily. The belly dancer who was working the room and dancing for each table, had finally reached ours. And just as I feared, she wanted to stand, so she could teach me how to gyrate my hips.
At first I pretended like I did not understand what she wanted. Unfortunately Josh decided to become her co-partner in crime. With an un-gentleman like shove he had me up on my feet, receiveing a glare full of daggers for his assistance.
"Come, come." Her heavily accented voice dripping from her lips as she waved me forward. "Let me show you how to keep your man smiling for days."
The blush that appeared at those her words, almost matched Josh's previous scarlet color. For five minutes I was shown how to wiggle my hips, roll my stomach, and shimmied for all I was worth, with Josh grining all the while as the audience called out and clapped encouragement. It wasn't that bad, and several times, I made Mr. Bad Boy grin fall, as his eyes darken and intensify with his body going still as if memerized, by the sway of my hip in his direction. A woman's charm is a powerful thing.
When I finally was allowed to sit down, to the great applause of the other diners, he leaned forward. His breath caressing my face, "Your very good at that. Maybe you could teach me, with some private lessons."
The cease fire was over. Blushing again, as my heart sped up a bit, and my stomach tighten, a the heated promise in his voice I chose to leave his comment alone. For now, that is.
Our evening winded down over wine, at a quiet cheese and wine bar. Sitting at a secluded table in the dimly lit, jazz filled bar, I felt relaxed and mellow, causing the flow of our conversation to flow its natural course. We talk about our lives, our past, our present, our dreams for the future, politics, careers, friends, and other things that caught our interest.
I learned that he had hard beginning, born in a small "hick" town, dirty poor. He was blessed smart, but angry. Got in trouble alot leading to him getting kicked out of school and into the juvenile boot camp for young criminal offenders. At seventeen a counsler at the boot camp he was attending, kicked him in his ass, and onto the right track. Helping him find his love of computers and art as a way to work out his anger. Josh, got back into school, worked overtime to catch up and graduate high school. Went to college for computer graphics and animation, got in with some cool guys and started his business.
Compared to his life story, my sounded a bit dull and boring. Two parents, two siblings, a dog, a house, a good student, graduated high school, graduated college, became a teacher, and everyone's happy.
He would not let me get away with that simple biography. Probing and pushing with questions he found those little details that mades one life interesting. The fact that I enjoyed painting and grew vegetables, that crazy stories of from teaching. As the night progress, I realized that me made me feel special, that my life wasn't drab, but full of life and wonder.
Sitting there gazing into those heavenly blue eyes, it hit me like a fully loaded eighteen wheeler. I had completely and utterly fallen for Mr. Josh "Bad Boy" Kruse, on our first date. Too late to hide under the bed now. He was in, and I just prayed it would not hurt me to much when he left out.
For the next several months we were in regular daily contact. Meeting up at the gym, going out on a dates, or talking over the phone, when our lives were to hetic for anything else. And when we ran out of things to say to each other, we were just happy in each other company.
It was hard at first, not just for me, but for every one around us. We got plenty of strange and sometimes hostile looks when we were out together. In truth I did not blame them for the curious glances, a quiet very curvy, or as my mother says very healthy looking, conservative black woman out with a tall, lean, goregous long haired white guy with an air of aggressive confidence about him, I would look too, which I did often, when I caught our reflection in storefront windows. Opposites was most definitely us.
We had been seeing each other for five months straight. He had giving me his house key so I could check up on his place while he was gone out of town for a convention. I had been to his house several times over the past several months. But this was my first time entering it without him around.
The convention trip was a last minute thing that his partner suddenly could make, due to illness. His home reflected the haste in which he left. Without thought, I suddenly found myself mopping, sweeping, washing dishes, and vaccumming. It had started with me taking the trash out, wiping up a spill, and then it tooka life of its own. Before I knew it I was washing his bed sheets and underwear. It's a sickness I tell you, a sickness. When I finally ran out of things to do, I found myself laying in his freshly bed missing him terribly. One minute I was examining the emptiness in my heart, the next second I was dreaming.
Something was crawling on my neck. Still half asleep, I raised my hand and brushed it away. Only to find it was large and hairy. Jerking away, crying out in repulsion, I swatted at it as I dove off the bed onto the floor.
Laughter rained down on me as I found myself on the floor looking up into Josh's laughing sky blue eyes. "Well, sleeping beauty is awake."
"What are you doing here?" Still trying to catch me breath, a bit peeved at him, for scaring me awake.
Rolling his eyes just to annoy me further, "I live here, last time I checked." As he leaned forward to pull me up off the floor and onto the bed, beside him.
"You know what I mean. Your home early." Noticing that his usually immaculate slacks were wrinkled and his shirt was in the same wrinkled state, a minus the tie, with the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, showing the tattoos on his forearm.