Aiden Stone's muscular calves begged for mercy as he pushed back against the leg press, but he gave no quarter. The sled-style leg press was killing him, sweat pouring down his brow and face soaking his gray-colored tee shirt and matching shorts. Fire burned from his solid calves all the way to his muscled thighs, but it didn't bother him. It was a good burn. After a few more reps, he decided that he'd had enough punishment for this workout. After mopping his sweaty brow with the end of his tee shirt, he realized he had an admirer.
A pretty blonde with a pixie cut had been watching him since he
had entered the workout room. She had tried her best to look like she wasn't
watching him, but being a former Marine turned FBI Special Agent, being watched
was one of those things he couldn't miss. Matter of fact, he had seen her
watching him for the past few weeks around FBI Headquarters.
"How you doing?" He asked while wearing a wicked smile across his mouth,
as she moved up and down the elliptical machine. His hands were gripping the
towel around his neck.
"Good. How about you?" She returned breathlessly, a coy smile working
across her face.
"Not bad at all." he returned, eyeing the way her breasts in the tight
fitting leotard bounced in time with the machine's rhythm.
They took a few minutes talking shop, and Aiden managed to charm
the essential stats out of her which of course staring into his eyes she gave up
freely. She had been an agent for two years investigating white collar crime at
the New York FBI headquarters. She was in the midst of tearing down a massive
ponzi scheme operation. She was headed down south to see if she could gain any
mroe traction in her investigation. The Bureau shipped you where you needed.
Such was the life of a special agent.
Aiden and the female agent made plans to go out to dinner if their
schedules allowed, maybe even going back to her hotel room for a little bedroom
aerobics he hoped. Neither of them was looking for anything serious and that was
just the way he liked it. She would be leaving in a few weeks, and he wouldn't
have to worry about the awkwardness of sleeping with a coworker, even if she did
work in a completely different division. He wasn't about to let a woman get
under his skin, and he wasn't looking for any kind of a steady girlfriend. He
was having too much fun being on the loose.
Aiden was a player, of course, but that didn't mean he hated women.
Being the only male child in a family of three sisters, his parents had taught
him how to cherish and respect the female gender. He loved women and enjoyed
spending time with them, but he wasn't the fall in love and make an ass out of
yourself type. Over the years he had made several friends with benefits, and
they still remained friends. At nearly thirty-five years old, he was beyond the
love thing with the buying flowers, romance and the unicorns farting rainbows
shit.
With his looks, Aiden was never for want of female company. His
ruggedly handsome visage was attributed to his mother, who was a combination of
African American and Irish genes and his father, a native Hawaiian surfer dude
from the big island of Hawaii. He was six foot four with the solid musculature
typical of island natives. He looked like he should be twirling fire knives at a
luau wearing nothing but a loin cloth. Frequent visits to the gym kept his
physique in prime shape, giving him a rippled body. His eyes were as blue and
intense as the waters that surrounded the island where he was born. Skin the
color of damp Hawaiian sand covered his body, and he kept his naturally straight
dark brown, bordering on black, hair cropped close to his head.
After tormenting his body at the FBI Headquarters fitness center, Aiden
stood under the hot spray of the locker room shower. The water felt good against
his slightly sore muscles as he thought of home being under the waterfall
letting the droplets run down the full length of him head to toe. Emerging from
the shower with his skin still steaming, he wrapped a towel around his waist and
proceeded to get dressed in front of his locker.
His former Bureau mentor and ex-partner Steve Sims complained, "Damn
it jackass, would you please put some clothes on!" He was changing out of his
own workout gear. "You're making the rest of us look fat."
Aiden laughed heartily, pulling his black polo shirt over his head.
Permanently cynical, Sims had been the one to show Stone the ropes when he
joined the Bureau. The FBI veteran had been a special agent for ten years and
like Stone had retired from the military.
"I told you, give me one month as your personal trainer and you'll need
a bat to keep the women off you." Aiden said.
I need another woman like I need a hole in my head. I got a daughter in
college draining my bank account, and I have a wife who can't stay the hell out
of the mall. Yet for some strange reason I'm happy. Go figure! Fat and happy!
Ha! You'll find out one day though."
"I don't think so, Sims. You know how I am." Aiden strapped on his
holster and Bureau issued Glock 23 pistol. "I do my thing and I'm in the wind.
It wouldn't be fair to the ladies to not share all of this!" He ran his hand
down his body like he was showing off a new car at an auto show.
"Just wait kid. Someday some woman is gonna get your knickers so twisted
you won't know which way to turn!" Sims zipped up his blue dress pants and
tucked in his off the rack white collar button down shirt.
Aiden shot him a look saying he didn't believe a word he said. "Sure,
Sims. I'll see you around. Alright old man?"
"Yeah OK ladykiller! Keep that nose of yours clean,
kid."
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