Calorie Burn Between His Sheets - Chapter 9: Chapter 9
You are reading Calorie Burn Between His Sheets, Chapter 9: Chapter 9. Read more chapters of Calorie Burn Between His Sheets.
"Black coffee kickstarts fat burning. Works wonders for weight loss," Ethan Roscente said, pushing the cup toward me with that charming smile of his. "Sophia Laurent swore by this stuff."
I lifted the mug, but my gut screamed warning signals I couldn't ignore.
Ethan chuckled, taking a demonstrative sip from his own cup. "What, think I poisoned you?" His laugh was all easy confidence. "This is a licensed facility, sweetheart. And honestly? I value my freedom too much."
Under his expectant gaze, I downed the bitter liquid. Only then did his smile widen in approval before he turned toward the VIP suite.
The room hit me like a sucker punch.
Instead of treadmills and dumbbells, I found a scene straight out of a honeymoon suite—king-sized bed, a bathtub built for two, the whole damn cliché. My pulse spiked as the realization dawned—where the hell were the weight machines?
Then the heat hit me.
Fire raced through my veins, my skin prickling with unnatural hunger. My vision tunneled on Ethan with terrifying intensity—every rational thought drowned out by the primal urge to rip his clothes off.
"You bastard!" I spat, nails digging into my palms. "You spiked that coffee!"
Ethan's smirk turned wolfish as he closed the distance between us. "Sophia didn't mention our most effective program?" His hands gripped my waist, tossing me onto the mattress with practiced ease. "Partnered cardio. Guaranteed twenty-pound loss—or your money back."
"Like hell!" I scrambled backward, channeling every ounce of fury into my voice. "I'll have you arrested for this!"
"Will you?" He produced my signed contract with a magician's flourish. "Page twelve, subsection C. 'Client agrees to all prescribed treatments.' No coercion, no crime." His finger tapped the fine print. "See?"
Bullshit.
Adrenaline burned through the drug's haze as I yanked out my phone. "You got all that? They're making their move."
"Hold position. Backup's en route."
Detective Daniel Watson's voice crackled through the speaker—my ex, my ace in the hole. After waking up with mystery bruises yesterday, I'd sent him photos, described the groggy aftermath of their "evaluation." He'd suspected roofies but needed concrete evidence.
Now I pulled the damning proof from my bag—a towel soaked with the coffee I'd discreetly spat out.
"Enjoy prison, Ethan." I sealed the evidence bag with satisfying finality.
His face contorted. "You faked it?!"
When his lunge for the towel failed, the mask slipped completely.
"Come on, Nina," he wheedled, switching tactics. "Remember how Daniel dumped you? Don't you want revenge-body glory? Sophia lost twenty pounds looking like this." His gesture encompassed the obscene bed. "Hand over the towel, and I'll make sure you—"
"Save it." I dodged another grab. Years of college athletics still lived in these curves. "Your next pickup line'll be through prison bars."
The distant wail of sirens punctuated my words. Game over.
I lifted the mug, but my gut screamed warning signals I couldn't ignore.
Ethan chuckled, taking a demonstrative sip from his own cup. "What, think I poisoned you?" His laugh was all easy confidence. "This is a licensed facility, sweetheart. And honestly? I value my freedom too much."
Under his expectant gaze, I downed the bitter liquid. Only then did his smile widen in approval before he turned toward the VIP suite.
The room hit me like a sucker punch.
Instead of treadmills and dumbbells, I found a scene straight out of a honeymoon suite—king-sized bed, a bathtub built for two, the whole damn cliché. My pulse spiked as the realization dawned—where the hell were the weight machines?
Then the heat hit me.
Fire raced through my veins, my skin prickling with unnatural hunger. My vision tunneled on Ethan with terrifying intensity—every rational thought drowned out by the primal urge to rip his clothes off.
"You bastard!" I spat, nails digging into my palms. "You spiked that coffee!"
Ethan's smirk turned wolfish as he closed the distance between us. "Sophia didn't mention our most effective program?" His hands gripped my waist, tossing me onto the mattress with practiced ease. "Partnered cardio. Guaranteed twenty-pound loss—or your money back."
"Like hell!" I scrambled backward, channeling every ounce of fury into my voice. "I'll have you arrested for this!"
"Will you?" He produced my signed contract with a magician's flourish. "Page twelve, subsection C. 'Client agrees to all prescribed treatments.' No coercion, no crime." His finger tapped the fine print. "See?"
Bullshit.
Adrenaline burned through the drug's haze as I yanked out my phone. "You got all that? They're making their move."
"Hold position. Backup's en route."
Detective Daniel Watson's voice crackled through the speaker—my ex, my ace in the hole. After waking up with mystery bruises yesterday, I'd sent him photos, described the groggy aftermath of their "evaluation." He'd suspected roofies but needed concrete evidence.
Now I pulled the damning proof from my bag—a towel soaked with the coffee I'd discreetly spat out.
"Enjoy prison, Ethan." I sealed the evidence bag with satisfying finality.
His face contorted. "You faked it?!"
When his lunge for the towel failed, the mask slipped completely.
"Come on, Nina," he wheedled, switching tactics. "Remember how Daniel dumped you? Don't you want revenge-body glory? Sophia lost twenty pounds looking like this." His gesture encompassed the obscene bed. "Hand over the towel, and I'll make sure you—"
"Save it." I dodged another grab. Years of college athletics still lived in these curves. "Your next pickup line'll be through prison bars."
The distant wail of sirens punctuated my words. Game over.
End of Calorie Burn Between His Sheets Chapter 9. Continue reading Chapter 10 or return to Calorie Burn Between His Sheets book page.