Beneath the Surface Read Online Free

treadmill. His calves ached, his shins screamed for him to stop, but he continued. Pushing his body to the extreme was the only way to bury the desire. He would swamp it underneath a shitload of exhaustion.
    His cell phone chirped and vibrated, diverting his attention. He stumbled but managed to steady himself. Pressing a few buttons, he slowed to a gentle jog to cool down before stopping completely and getting off the treadmill. It was impossible to hear the music playing through the gym speakers because his ears were filled with the sound of his blood thundering through his veins.
    Kyran had pushed himself hard and it was all because of one annoying woman he’d talked to for twenty minutes.
    The door to the gym opened, and a tall blonde entered the room. She wore tight leggings and a formfitting cropped top. Until recently, he would have stayed and talked to her, maybe even flirted a little. Kyran enjoyed the thrill of the chase. In the past it didn’t matter if they worked for him or not.
    He would have talked to her, flirted, and turned on the charm. However, now he didn’t even crack a smile.
    Kyran wasn’t interested.
    He turned his back to her and grabbed his phone, scrolling through the various messages and e-mails while he caught his breath. Sweat trickled down the valley of his spine, pooling at the base of his back before soaking the cotton of his T-shirt. The fabric clung to his heated skin, irritating him enough to take it off.
    After ripping his shirt over his head, Kyran tossed it on top of his gym bag, and reached for a towel to pat dry. Looking at the mirrored wall, he watched the blonde cock a brow, her eyes following the tattoos that adorned both of his arms. She didn’t grimace in the way most people did when they saw how heavily inked he was. Instead, she licked her lips and drank in every inch of his skin.
    Her reaction intrigued him. Very few people in the office knew of his artwork because it was concealed by his business attire. The tattoos also went against his well-known professional persona, but then there was more to him than the Reese Corporation.
    Kyran stroked his hand up his left arm and stared at the series of random letters and numbers. The dark digits stood out sharply against his pale flesh, an odd code etched from shoulder to wrist.
    He stared at her reflection, hoping to unnerve her enough to stop looking at him, but she was shameless. The woman’s gaze trailed over his chest and down to his tight abs before focusing on his right arm. Although the ink still covered the same amount of skin, the design was different.
    Waves lapped from his shoulder, forming a small whirlpool on his elbow and ebbing back down to his wrist. Both arms had taken a series of sessions and time away from Metro for a while. The pain of the tattoos was a good exchange for the pain of the club.
    “Nice,” the woman said, moving closer to him, and it was clear from the glint in her eye she was impressed. Kyran turned to face her. “That’s some amazing work you have there.”
    “I know,” was Kyran’s blunt response as he squatted down, pushing his belongings into the gym bag. He hoped she’d take the hint. When she hunkered down next to him, dragging her long, manicured nails along his arm, he understood hoping was futile.

    Shooting her a cool glare, he stood up and hauled his bag over his shoulder. The woman clearly had no idea who he was, and touching him uninvited would get her fired.
    “They must have cost you a fortune. The artwork is perfect.” She stood up, cocking her hip.
    He took a long drink of water from his sports bottle, wondering if he wanted to get into this with her. It wasn’t that she was unattractive. His issue was more to do with rules, and it would be wrong for him to start anything with someone who worked for him. That issue remained with the curly-haired brunette who was right now settling into his brother’s office.
    “Money isn’t a concern,” he replied, shaking his