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her bedroom. New gym clothes rarely made it to the monthly budget and the pickings in her drawer were slim. He’d already seen her in her birthday suit, so her limited wardrobe shouldn’t make too much difference. She chose cut-off sweats that showed a little more butt than appropriate and one of her former extravagances, a Nike workout tank with a built-in bra that boosted her breasts. A couple of barrettes to keep her unruly hair from poking her in the face, her cross-trainers and ready or not, she was off.
    * * * * *
     
    Tons of cars packed the Iron Works parking lot. Cassie found a spot in an outer row and locked her faithful little Ford. Not that anybody would want to steal it, especially parked next to a BMW worth at least four times as much. One day she’d upgrade her vehicle. After she’d banked enough money to buy a location for her studio separate from her home. She patted the hood as she walked away. Even with her increasing referrals, she and the Ford had many more years together.
    She spied Brian’s dark-green Jeep near the door. Due to last night’s storm, the top was up and the doors in place. Not the norm. The man preferred it stripped to the bare bones, a deathtrap on four thick wheels. She’d only seen him driving it one time, but the image was a keeper. Ginger-haired lumberjack of a man with one hand on the wheel, one hand on the roll bar overhead, his left foot sticking out the doorless gap as he peeled into the lot. A man’s vehicle had never done much for her until the day she saw Brian in this Jeep. Consider her among the converted. Now she couldn’t help thinking about sex every time she saw a green Jeep, any green Jeep. But especially this one.
    She walked along the driver’s side, her fingers lightly trailing along the warm metal. Considering what it might be like to go for a ride triggered old fears. What if the thing rolled? What if they hit a bump and without doors or a roof, she was thrown clear of the vehicle? No, she wouldn’t go there, to ancient history and heartache over her loss. Not with much better scenarios to focus on. Brian driving them somewhere off the beaten path, tying her to one of those padded roll bars and fucking her until she screamed loud enough to be heard all the way to the city. Oh boy. Also not the thing to be thinking about right now.
    She stopped a couple feet from the gym door. Yanked her shoulder bag around front and feigned rooting through it. She could pretend she’d forgotten some important item. Drive home and masturbate instead of working out. With the hum building between her legs, she’d probably be riding her vibrating dildo for a good twenty minutes. That had to count as cardio. Heck, if she knelt and kept her knees bent, it’d be a leg workout too.
    “Hey, Cassie. Don’t usually see you here on the weekend.” Sam, another of Iron Works’ personal trainers, paused beside her to hold the door open. “Coming or going?”
    She couldn’t help smiling, and not because Sam was incredibly hot, though in an entirely different way from Brian. If she answered “coming”, she wouldn’t be. Not for at least an hour. She’d never had an orgasm at the gym, though she’d certainly gotten close on the stationary bike. Dangerously close the times Brian was in her field of vision while she pedaled and ground her clit into the saddle.
    “Drag her in here, Sam.” Brian’s voice snapped her back. She followed the toe-curling sound to where he stood behind the front counter, arms folded across his chest, a panty-melting smile on his face. “Or I’ll come over there and do it myself.”
    Sam nodded toward the opening. “You don’t want to mess with the big guy. Better do as he says, or next thing you know, he’ll be hauling you out for his Sunday boot camp.”
    “His boot camp?” She tried to focus on Sam while they crossed the entry area to the desk. Tried. Hard to do with Brian unabashedly stalking every step she took. “Is that a new class—I