Until You're Mine (Fighting for Her)
Page 19
The silence stretched longer and longer, and instead of thinning out and evaporating it grew thicker and heavier.
I ran my finger down that carved line in Shane’s forearm I was becoming slightly obsessed with. “So, sexy, right? There’s nothing like talking about exes and family drama and all the issues both have left you with to really set the mood.”
“Hey…” Shane placed his hand on the side of my neck and then tipped my chin up with his thumb, another thing that drove me crazy in the best possible way. “I asked. Everyone has issues, and everything you just told me? It doesn’t scare me. And honestly, all it takes to get me in the mood is to look at you.”
He gave me the once over, being extra brazen about it, and I cracked half a smile. He reached for me, and I pushed my hand flat to his chest, holding him back. Before I got carried away in the way he looked at me, the wicked curve of his mouth, and the ridiculously hot body, I needed to make sure that I drove a very important point home. “I want to move on from this crappy topic, but before we do, I need you to swear to me that you won’t do anything with what I’ve told you about Conrad until you step inside the octagon. Think of your career. Think of all this work you’re putting in. You’ll get your chance to hit him.”
“I know the risks of fighting outside of the cage.”
“That’s not a risk, it’s a sure way to ruin your career. Just stay clear of him until your fight. Promise me.”
He removed my hand from his chest, lifted it to his mouth, and kissed the center of my palm. A zing darted from that spot right to my heart. “As long as he keeps his hands off you, I’ll wait.”
I tilted my head.
One of his dark eyebrows quirked up. “Do you want me to keep my promises, or not?”
I groaned. “You’re making this really difficult.”
“So are you. I promise. With the aforementioned exception.”
I rolled my eyes. “Really? ‘Aforementioned?’” He nodded, a proud grin on his face, and I couldn’t help dragging my thumb over the scrumptious stubble lining his jaw. “Maybe right before you knock him out, tag me in and let me take a shot or two before you finish him off?”
“Sure thing,” he said, then he wrapped his arms around my waist and brought me flush against him. “I’ll make you another promise. While you and I are together, I won’t touch another girl.”
My heart tried to soar, but I’d clipped its wings a long time ago. “I’m not asking you to—”
“I’m telling you that I won’t. That you can trust me. You don’t have to ask.”
“I appreciate it, I do. But it’s the while we’re together part that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? We can’t really be together—not out in the open—and we have an expiration date.” My worries and frayed emotions swirled together, bringing the crappy debris to the surface. “There are so many things against us. What are we doing?”
“The best part is that we don’t have to know. We can take it a day at a time.” He leaned temptingly close, one breath between our mouths. “Just ride the wave with me, Brooklyn.”
He parted my lips with his tongue and rolled it over mine, his hands working free the button of my jeans, and I went ahead and caught the wave. I rode it as we stripped off every last piece of our clothes, as he put his mouth on me, licking and sucking and driving me wild with desire. Rode it when he covered his body with mine and it became impossible to tell where I ended and he began. One moan blurred into the next, along with my cries and his groans and an overwhelming rush of pleasure.
Then we were coming together, and I went ahead and let the current pull me all the way under.
Chapter Thirty-One
Shane
In some ways, this week had been the hardest week I’d had in years. And in others… My gaze drifted to Brooklyn, and she gave me a smile, followed by a look that meant stop being so obvious.
In others, it’d been the best fucking week of my life.
Don’t get me wrong, today’s workout made me long for death, but like a quick one, where I came back at the end of the day to see my girl. Weekends didn’t mean a whole lot in my line of work—or more like they meant the gym would be full of weekend warriors—so I either crowded in with them or got creative. Looking at Brooklyn, I could think up a lot of creative ways to expend some energy, and I decided that tomorrow I’d skip the gym. But first I had to mention it to my coach real quick and see if he popped a blood vessel.
“I’m thinking about taking my recovery day tomorrow,” I told Blake, who’d done the majority of today’s training. I didn’t know if it was punishment for standing up to him, or if he believed in me and wanted to take a more active role, but between his, Liam’s, and Finn’s rigorous workouts this week, there wasn’t a single muscle in my body that didn’t ache. “Then I’ll do a beach jog and some lighter drills on Sunday to get me through the weekend.”
The guy stared, hard and flat, giving me no clue as to what he thought of my plan. He expelled a breath. “I suppose that’s in order. It does no good to injure you, because we sure as shit don’t have spare time for recovery.”
In other words, we still had a lot of work to do. No fighter ever wanted to think they weren’t up to par, and I’d driven myself harder than I ever had, but I got it. Conrad’s nickname “Croc” hadn’t only come from combining his first and last name, but because he was notoriously hard to keep down. He always managed to roll his opponent and take control, and grappling was my weakest area. I’d been working my ass off to tip those scales in my favor, though.
“See you on Monday, then, when the gym’s less crowded and I’ve spent the weekend recouping.” Not that I was going to tell him, but Brooklyn was part of that. Whenever I was with her, things felt less heavy. The world calmed. Anything seemed possible, which had me tasting that future victory, making me want it that much more.
“You better be ready on Monday, bright and early. Stay up late and party all weekend, and you’ll regret it.”
Either way, I’d be pushing my body to the brink and sucking air Monday morning, but I didn’t plan on partying. Besides the night I’d slipped and had the Jack Daniels, I’d already cut out alcohol two weeks ago. The plan was to take Brooklyn to a barbecue my closest friends were throwing. I wanted her to meet them, and for them to meet her, and in spite of being sure it’d go smoothly, I was oddly nervous.
Brooklyn grew up in this gym, around rough and tumble guys, but there was a difference between trained-fighter-hard and street-hard, and my boys and I grew up in one of the rougher neighborhoods. It sometimes made me worry that I’d never be able to make her happy, not if I didn’t get my career back and hold on to it, even as I told myself it was way too soon to think about that.
The thought of us not being together made my lungs deflate. I might be getting in over my head.
Don’t overthink it. Tonight’s about fun, not forever. I walked up to her desk, working on keeping a straight face instead of giving her a goofy grin and bouncing around her feet like a dog who couldn’t wait to go for a walk. “You about done here?”
She glanced around and kept her voice low, like there might be hidden spy cams. “I need another half hour, maybe even a whole one. I’m so close to the bottom of this bill pile, but I can’t get things to balance right.”
“Want me to stick around?”
“No. We’d just get ourselves in trouble.” Her eyes ran down me and she sank her teeth into her lower lip. Evidently she wanted me sporting a hard-on at the gym—it’s not like sweats did a good job of hiding a situation like that, either.
“The sexy lip bite isn’t helping,” I said. “Need me to take over? I’d love to get my teeth on—”
“Hey, Liam!” Brooklyn’s voice was forced enthusiasm, to the point that even I suspected her of something, and I knew exactly what she was up to. Her brother walked up to the desk and parked himself right next to me. “Shane and I were talking about our weekend plans. Are you doing anything fun?”
Liam glance
d from me to her, and speaking of suspicion, he clearly had some of his own. Lately I’d been thinking we should just drop the act and come clean. Undoubtedly, they wouldn’t like it, but I was over caring. It was frustrating when I couldn’t greet her with a good morning kiss, or a good-bye one. Or one to celebrate the middle of the day. The afternoon. When she scrunched her nose in that cute way she did when her figures on screen didn’t cooperate.
Plus, I wanted every other guy in the gym to know that she was mine.
Liam ran a hand through his hair. “Same thing I do every weekend. Try to catch up on work.” We all pushed ourselves hard here, but the tension practically radiated off him in waves, and he looked even more tired than usual.
“So no,” Brooklyn said. “You’re just ignoring your own advice that I threw back at you?”
“Yeah, why don’t you take some time off to paint, bro?” I nudged him with my elbow. “I’d like to see what you come up with.”
He actually cracked a smile. “I’m going to leave the art to Brooklyn.”
Speaking of, I still hadn’t seen any of Brooklyn’s paintings. I couldn’t wait to see what that beautiful brain came up with. I also wanted to get her gorgeous self out of here so that we could squeeze every last drop from the time we got to spend together. I knew training and the stress of an upcoming fight would only get more intense, so there was no time like the present.
Since it didn’t seem like Liam was going to leave his sister and me alone anytime soon, I decided to hit the road. That way I could swing by and check on Tammy. I’d kept her up to date on things over the phone, but I hadn’t stopped by in way too long. Another thing I was going to have to do a better job of balancing.
I hiked my duffel bag higher on my shoulder. “Well, I’ll see everybody later.” I reached up and tapped my ear, hoping that Brooklyn got the message to call me when she could. We hadn’t finalized arrangements, and I’d told Hector I’d be at his place around seven.
Liam said something, and her attention turned to him. My text chime went off as I pushed out the door.
Brooklyn: I’ll try to hurry, I promise. I’ll text you when I’m on my way to your place, and until then, just know you’re in my very inappropriate thoughts.
With messages like that, how the hell wasn’t I supposed to fall for her on the spot?
Chapter Thirty-Two
Brooklyn
My nerves stretched tighter as I scrambled around the apartment, and it wasn’t helping that everything kept taking twice as long as usual. I didn’t know what to expect, and the last time I’d been this anxious was when the gallery had called to interview me about the internship.
I’d attempted to make a pasta salad—wasn’t that what you were supposed to do when you went to a cookout with your boyfriend’s friends? I hoped not, because my idea to do just that totally flopped.
The globby, soggy noodles stuck to the pan and the spoon, so after swearing and ceremoniously dumping the mess in the trash, I raided Finn’s cupboards.
Hi, nice to meet you. I brought… I pushed aside the boxes of brown rice, hoping for treasure in the back. Protein bars.
Um, how about no. I opened the pantry door. No, no, no… Bingo! I squatted down and grabbed the case of beer. Much better than pasta salad, globby or not. I was a few steps from the door when I paused. Did I finish putting on my makeup?
The timer had gone off on the noodles and…nope. I rushed back to the bathroom, applied eyeliner to my left eye so that it matched the right, swiped mascara on both sets of lashes, and then renewed my rush out the door.
Halfway down the stairs I wondered if my flirty summer dress was too dressy. Then I glanced at the time and decided it was too late to change my outfit, over-the-top or not.
My car started with a growl, and I revved my engine to remind myself I was a badass. I pulled onto the street and headed for the freeway.
It’s not a big deal. No matter how many times I’d tried to tell myself that, I couldn’t trick myself into believing it. Shane and I already had so much against us. When I reminded myself that in a little over three weeks I wouldn’t even live here anymore, so it didn’t really matter how much his friends liked me, it didn’t provide any comfort. It opened a hollow pit in my chest that sucked away at my surplus of happiness.
Oh, great. Now I’m getting carried away. That’s going to make this night so much easier.
Within fifteen minutes—I might’ve sped a wee bit—I was pulling into Shane’s apartment complex. I called him and told him I’d arrived, and he said he’d be right out.
The tap on the window made me jump, and it didn’t help that Shane laughed at me, the sound infiltrating the car when I unrolled the window.
“Yes, can I help you?” I asked, as if he were a complete stranger.
“Yeah. I need a date for tonight, and she’s gotta be smoking hot.” He leaned through the window and kissed me, lingering for long enough that the world blurred into swirls of color and sparks of light. “Looks like it’s your lucky night.”
“So fucking cocky.”
He grinned like I’d given him a huge compliment. “Do I have to pull you out of the car, or what? Let’s get going.”
“As much as I love riding on the back of your motorcycle, I put effort into my hairdo”—I circled my head with a finger, lest he needed the proof—“and I also brought a case of beer, so we need to take my car.”
He opened the door, and I wondered if he was hard of hearing. “Scoot over, then,” he said. “I’m driving.”
“Oh, you think you can demand I scoot over and I’ll just—”
He ducked inside and kissed me, the perfect amount of scruff, soft lips, and tongue. He ended the kiss with a nip on my lower lip. “I’m driving, and if you’re good, I promise I’ll find creative uses for my hands while I’m doing it.”
My stubborn pride wanted to put up a fight and argue that I didn’t respond to demands, but then he slid his hand up my inner thigh and stroked me over my panties. Divine shocks of electricity danced across my skin, every other emotion fading as desire took over. I rubbed my thighs together. “Won’t that just be really frustrating?”
He nodded. “For both of us. But the build-up will make it that much hotter when we get back to my place and I focus every ounce of my attention on getting you off as many times, and in as many ways, as possible.” He punctuated his vow with another exquisite drag of his fingers.
The juncture between my thighs throbbed, aching for more as lust turned the blood in my veins into liquid fire. “You’re impossible,” I said on a shaky breath.
“You love me.”
The air shifted, heavy and tense, the oxygen whooshing out into the ether and leaving me without any. There was no way I could… Now’s so not the time to dive into that.
I needed to fix this before everything spun out of control. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Relax, I totally know that you were only joking. Guys always freak out at the mere mention of love.”
“You’re freaking out more than I am. You look the same way you do when you think your dad or your brothers are on to us.”
I hitched my chin. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Instead of bothering to wait for me to climb over the console, Shane slid into the seat and pulled me onto his lap. “Hey,” he said, his fingers rubbing soothing circles on my thighs. “We allow ourselves to want this a day at a time, remember?”
I nodded, but my heart tripped over its quickening beats. Ever since the ugly end of my relationship with Conrad, I’d held back in my relationships in an attempt to keep myself safe—even with Trey, and he’d been pretty much the definition of risk-free. The temptation to do so now whispered to me, but something about Shane’s reassuring yet intense gaze made it spill on out. “I try, but sometimes my brain won’t shut up about all the complications, and how the odds are stacked against us, and then it won’t stop telling me it’s a bad idea to get so close to you.”
“I’v
e never been one to give a shit about the odds. According to them I should be in jail or working some dead-end job, or an alcoholic at the least, and definitely not sitting here with a girl like you, a big fight that could change everything on the horizon.”
“So basically you’re saying you eat odds for breakfast?”
A slow smile spread across his face, and affection and warmth coursed through me. I loved the way he made me feel sexy and strong, yet completely reassured that if I needed lifting up, he’d help pull me up. He nuzzled my neck, dropping a kiss on the sensitive spot underneath my ear. “God, I’m crazy about you.”
“Good. Because I’m kinda crazy about you, with an extra side of crazy.”
“Always having to one-up me.” His circling fingertips drifted closer to the top of my thighs, his touch going from soothing to arousing.
Two could play at that game—hey, if I was going to get accused of one-upping him, I might as well be guilty. I sunk farther onto him, dragging myself over the sizeable bulge in his pants, and he groaned. “Just building that anticipation,” I said, deciding the dress was the best choice I’d made all day.
His fingers dug into my hips, holding me in place as he arched against me. “Fuck that. I’m about to take you in the backseat of the car.”
My breaths sawed in and out of my mouth, so quickly it left me dizzy. “The windows are barely tinted.”
He wound his fingers through my hair and tipped my head aside, his lips going to my neck. “Then whoever happens to walk by and get a show will be one lucky bastard.”
I laughed and then reluctantly lifted myself off him and forced myself into the passenger seat before we got arrested for indecent exposure.
He readjusted himself, backed out of the parking spot, and then curled his hand around my thigh. And I accidentally wondered what would happen if I wanted more than a day at a time.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Brooklyn
Shane drove south, nearly to the border of Mexico, but turned off and headed into the rougher part of Chula Vista. I hadn’t spent a lot of time down here, but I had no doubt that my overprotective brothers would warn me away from going there alone. Which probably sounded privileged, something I wasn’t going to deny. I was sure that like everywhere else, there was a mix of good people and bad people. It wasn’t a newsflash that he’d grown up in a harsher situation than I had.