Never Love a Naked P.I.

Getting a bit lofty, are we? Comparing ourselves to the big man himself, are we? She thought I looked great. She thinks I am great.

His eyes closed in measured self-satisfaction.

“Yeah, ya doin’ good, big guy. Keep up the good work.”

Chad didn’t permit his clients to day-dream. Keep ‘em focused. He shoved Marc into position for the squats with the gentleness of a stevedore unloading contraband. Marc’s thighs screamed. His legs were not as well-supplied with receptive genes as his upper torso. Or his groin.

The antiseptic, cleaned air of the gym being snuffed into his heaving lungs was replaced with her scent: rich, lush, a myriad of tantalizing bits of her daily being. He again felt her body responding to his urgent embrace in the hansom cab even through the confining layers of damp clothes.

Marc forced himself to not think of her kiss. His body responded too vehemently at the memory. His senses flared. His pulse galloped. The small hairs on his body rose.

I’d always wondered what it was like to swim in pure honey.

God, how long could a man take it!

As long as it takes, ‘big guy.’ We’re here for the long haul. She wants space. She’s got it. Tonight I’m gonna come up with such poses as “dreams are made of”. She’s gonna be knocked out! She’s gonna want to close that space so quick.

“Hey man, you’re really breaking your butt today. Big night tonight, huh?”

“The biggest, my young stud, the biggest.”

Chad beamed at the appellation and immediately launched into a blow by blow of his latest conquest.

Ah, but I am above such mundane matters as sex. I am ensconced on a higher plane. I am dealing in a realm of pure delight.

His lower senses chuckled. Right. The blood pumped lustily through his pulsing veins as he strained happily against the weights, as his head thought of her quickness, her sass, her forthrightness, her pride in herself, her need for him.

With a final heave, he hooked the bar onto the stanchion’s holders, stood and shook his muscles loose, dancing lightly on his toes, eyeing himself in the walls of mirror. He looked good. She deserved the best.

That’s what’s got you all shook up, huh? This is the first time it’s ALL been involved: your head, your heart, your…the rest of you. Wasn’t that a Boy Scout oath or something? I sure don’t feel like a Boy Scout.

His trainer pointed to the next toy machine he was to conquer.

Marc remembered his and Amanda’s goodnight kiss. They had returned to her apartment and chastely gone over what he wanted her to look out for at this evening’s posing session.

She had been annoyed.

“Why can’t you tell me exactly what’s going on? I know it’s a Michelangelo forger we’re looking for, but where did the information come from? Who’s the most likely? What an absolutely amazing thing to be involved in,” she interjected parenthetically. “And how do you know it’s someone from David’s class? I feel like I’m in high school trig where that annoying Mr. Danials kept saying ‘just do the math, you don’t have to know why.’”

“All in good time,” he had smirked.

She had swung at him and he’d instinctively grabbed her wrist.

There was a moment frozen in time, a split second where, from the look in her eye, the physical response in his loins, the shock deep in his heart, he could have vowed never to let her go, ever.

But he did. He had smiled jauntily, superior-male-I’m-bigger-than-you-are, gathered his coat and went to the door. “See,” he had said. “Space.” He had clasped his hands safely behind his back, leaned forward and puckered his lips.

He had been good. He deserved a goodnight kiss. He expected a peck. A truce. A quick salutary smack.

She had touched her mouth to his with infinite grace. An impress of the greatest goodness. Her lips had moved slightly, tasting his, measuring the width of his smile, the power of his pucker. She had kissed him nakedly. Wholly. Almost spiritually. They’d flowed into each other. He was frozen to the spot, drinking her in. Swimming in honey. He had felt hot behind his eyes.

And then she’d said goodnight and the door was closed and he was bereft not to be in her presence.

“Man, you gonna bust something if you’re not careful. Ease up. We want you to live to lift tomorrow.” Chad laughed appreciatively at his own ready wit.

Marc glowed. Long before tomorrow would come tonight. As Chad shook his head in bemused amusement at the odd behavior of his client, Marc twisted his body into a reproduction of The Dying Gaul.

He was ready…

Ready for the forger… ready for Ace.

Through the forest of machines of levers and weights, past floor-length mirrors, at the other end of the workout area, a large man nonchalantly exercised. His features deliberately concealed by a pulled down baseball cap, he kept close watch on the handsome, muscular man and his trainer.

His brow furrowed in puzzled concentration as, before the far mirror, Marc twisted his body into the tortured central figure in the Laocoon sculpture group. Suddenly, the rough, tensed face slacked in shocked recognition as an amazing revelation dawned.

His eyes narrowed and a satisfied snarl crept over his thin lips. He chuckled quietly to himself. His course of action had changed radically.

OH, DEAR. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all.Amanda’s worried eyes flicked quickly back and forth between a deadly looking Cissy and a grim-faced Christine.

Get to know what Christine thinks, Marc had said, referring to Antonio’s posing. Hopefully get past her initial reaction. That would mean meeting Christine away from their group, Amanda had surmised. Find out who Christine was, how she thought.

Her worldly classmate would also more than likely have a few well-chosen words of advice concerning “relationships.” And this morning Amanda had felt she could afford to listen to a little advice coming from a different perspective.

And then she had the bright idea that Cissy should be added to the mix. Maybe between the two Amanda could figure out if she was handling this thing with Marc right. Being very careful, of course, not to reveal his true identity.

She was feeling totally conflicted caught between wanting to build slowly to make sure her affinity with Marc was solid and built on a firm foundation. And at the same time wanting to leap into his arms and worry about the consequences later.

Lord, how long could a girl hold out?

So she had called them both for lunch and they all met at a lovely, little place on West 23rd.

“I’ve always felt theimportant thing was to find someone you could spend therest of your life with.” Cissy’s white-knuckled clinch around her wine glass belied her frozen smile. “Someone who could takecare of you, and keep you in the manner in which youshould be kept.”

“Bull, baby.” Christine was having none of it. “Love ‘em and leave ‘em, ‘cause that’s exactly what they’re going to do to your little, hot loins.”

“You sound like you’ve had someunfortunate experiences,” Cissy said, pity seasoning her voice. “And that’s anawful shame. But we mustn’t allow one or two bad apples to spoil the whole fruit basket.”

“One or two? Look at me, you little…you young one.” Christine swept her hand grandly from her hairdo down to her martini. “Do you get the feeling I’ve been there and done that? Several times over? If Amanda is so dense as to think she’s going to get the perfect ‘relationship’ out of this thing with…what’s his name Mr. Horn Rims…then it’s probably going to be as deadly as they come. He backed off when you told him to?” She turned an incredulous face toward Amanda. “No balls. I say jump in his pants, get what kicks you can and dump him for the first replacement that comes along.”

Amanda felt chilled. The air conditioning must be very high.

“Now if we were talking about the Naked Hunk we’re going to get the chance to slam our peepers on again