"Last set," Erin said, her voice unyielding with the professionalism that Alethea had come to associate with these sessions. "Let's finish strong."
Alethea had been coming here twice a week for three months now, ever since her agent had insisted that she needed more muscle definition for the upcoming athletic wear campaigns. She'd resisted at first, tried to explain that she'd maintained her body through a successful modelling career for nearly ten years now without help, but if she was honest with herself the results spoke for themselves.
And, if she was
really
being honest with herself, which she rarely was about such things, the results weren't the only reason that she kept coming back...
She was on her back on the bench press, arms trembling slightly from the previous sets. She'd noticed Erin standing closer than usual today, close enough that Alethea could smell her clean scent, something fresh and floral, mixed with the faint but not unpleasant tang of sweat from demonstrating exercises.
Even from this angle, Erin was striking... her blonde hair pulled back in a short ponytail that showed off the elegant line of her neck, her shoulders broad and defined in a way that spoke of a career of needing to be in good shape, of working out regularly because it was literally her job. So different from Alethea's usual type, meaning not a fellow model, but that was part of the attraction...
"I've got you," Erin said, positioning herself at the head of the bench, hands hovering near the bar. "Eight more. You can do this."
From this angle, Alethea could see the defined muscles in Erin's arms, the way her fitted sports bra pulled across her chest as she leaned forward. It was distracting in a way that Alethea, who prided herself on her professional focus, found increasingly difficult to ignore.
Focus, she told herself, gripping the bar. But her arms were already fatigued, and by the sixth rep she was struggling.
"Come on," Erin encouraged, her hands now lightly touching the bar, providing just enough assistance. "Two more. Push through it."
Alethea gritted her teeth, pressing up for the seventh rep. Her arms shook violently on the eighth, and Erin's hands fully gripped the bar, helping guide it back to the rack. Their fingers brushed in the process, and Alethea felt something electric shoot through her...
Which was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. She'd touched countless people in her line of work. Touch was just business. If she got excited every time she made contact with another woman she'd never get any work done.
"Good job," Erin said, but she didn't immediately step back. Instead she stayed there, looking down at Alethea with an expression that wasn't quite professional anymore. They were nearly the same height when standing, but from this angle, with Erin above her, Alethea felt uncharacteristically vulnerable. "You've been pushing yourself harder lately."
Alethea sat up, accepting the towel that Erin offered, using the moment to collect herself. "Athletic wear campaigns coming up," she said, her voice breathless but steadier than she felt. "Have to be ready."
"You're already ready," Erin said quietly, a slight smile playing around the edge of her mouth. "You've been ready for weeks."
The words hung between them. Alethea knew that she should stand up, make some excuse about needing to get to another appointment or go and meet a friend.
This was Erin's last session of the day, Alethea had deliberately scheduled it that way to avoid the gym's busier hours, wanting to swerve the men in particular who liked to accompany their workout with not too subtly trying to get an eyeful of a model doing their own exercise. The studio was empty except for them, had been since the start.
Instead, she found herself saying, "Am I? Sometimes I feel like I'm just going through the motions."
Erin moved around the bench, sitting down beside her. Too close. Not close enough. This close, Alethea could appreciate the way Erin's body was built, not the lean, almost fragile aesthetics of a fashion model, but the powerful physique of an athlete. Her arms showed defined muscles that shifted beneath tanned skin, her thighs solid and strong beneath her fitted shorts without being excessive. She was beautiful in a way that had nothing to do with conventional standards and everything to do with her capability and confidence. "In training or in general?"
It was such a direct question, so unexpected from someone who'd maintained perfectly professional boundaries for three months, that Alethea actually laughed. "Both, maybe."
"I know the feeling," Erin said. She was looking at Alethea with those green eyes that felt like they saw too much. "Sometimes you just want something... real. Something that isn't planned or scheduled or part of the routine."
Alethea's heart was beating faster than it had during the entire workout. This wasn't how she worked. She was always in control, always the one who decided when and how things progressed. But sitting here, acutely aware of the mere inches between them, she felt that control slipping.
"Erin," she started, not sure if she was about to establish a boundary or cross one.
"I know," Erin said softly. "I know this is probably completely inappropriate. You're a client. I have rules about this stuff. But..." She paused, seeming to gather courage. "But I've been pretending for weeks that I don't notice the way you look at me. And I've been pretending I don't look at you the same way."
Erin's admission hit Alethea like a wave. She was used to being desired... it was a part of her job, her daily reality. But this felt different. Erin wasn't looking at her like she was a beautiful object or a fantasy made flesh. She was looking at her like she saw her, the person beneath the carefully constructed image.
