Until You're Mine (Fighting for Her)

by Cindi Madsen

  “And we’re going bankrupt,” Liam finished, and I nodded. “The truth is, we’ve been behind on the gym’s mortgage for months, along with several of the other bills.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t get to them until I reached bottom of the pile, but we’ve received a couple of those red letters that threaten to cut off electricity and water.”

  “I’ve been making partial payments here and there, giving them just enough to keep the bill collectors at bay and the utilities on, hoping that the next month’s intake would allow us to catch up.” Liam lowered himself onto the sofa and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was afraid it was going to be bad.”

  “It’s past bad. We might lose everything.”

  He looked up at me, every raw emotion he’d tried to keep hidden fully visible on his features now.

  “Does Dad know?” I asked. “Or has he been too focused on training and whatever he does here in the office?”

  “He’s never been good at the business side. He thought the money would never run out. He knows it’s getting tight, and his plan is to make up everything he can with Knox’s fight. It’s supposed to get us over the rough patch.” Liam’s eyes met mine. “That’s why we need him to win so badly. We need the money and the publicity so that more fighters will sign up with us. We need every penny we can get.”

  I sank onto the couch next to him. “Even then, it’s going to take us a while to climb out of the red.”

  “I’ve thought about taking out loans. Dad’s mentioned taking out a second mortgage.”

  My lungs tightened. “Those are all dangerous things to bet on.”

  Liam shrugged. “What choice do we have? Sell the gym? File for Chapter Eleven Bankruptcy, which is expensive, time-consuming, and risky? That’s if we could even talk Dad and his pride into it, which is a big if. The other option is to cut our losses and give up everything, but that’s not really an option, either. I know you and Dad don’t get along very well, but this is his dream and he built it from the ground up.”

  “I know.” Maybe it was a weird thought, but it’d be worse if he’d skipped out on so many important events in my life to keep the gym running, only to have nothing to show for it. “How come you didn’t tell me how bad it was?”

  Liam sighed. “I hoped I was wrong. Of course I knew the bank accounts were too low and that we were behind on paying the bills, but I also knew there should be more money somewhere and I was hoping you’d find where it went, like maybe we’d overpaid someone or we were owed money from fights, or…something. I tried to convince myself I was worrying over nothing. How far in the hole are we?”

  “About thirty grand. Dad runs this place on the edge of what he takes in, so we haven’t made much of a profit over the past four years.” Basically since I left. I tried to tell myself it wasn’t my fault—that I had to go, and I couldn’t have stayed here without more resentment building or losing myself completely—but it felt like my fault. “If the stubborn ass would’ve listened to me about the classes. Hell, if he’d listen to me now. Is he really going to let his pride overrule making enough money to keep his gym? His legacy?”

  Liam ran a hand over his jaw. “We just need to get through Knox’s fight. If it goes well, more people will sign up to train. And I’ll talk to him about the classes—at this point, I’ll tell him it’s not an option. Did you see anywhere we could cut corners?”

  “Sure, but we’re talking a couple hundred here and there. Two to three thousand over a year, at most.”

  “Better than nothing.”

  Considering we were dealing in negative numbers, nothing was a good word for it, and I didn’t know if it was better.

  I glanced out over the gym, the place I’d grown up in. My chest ached at the thought of it not being ours. What would Dad, Liam, and Finn do if we lost it? Sure, my brothers could train somewhere else, but that’d come with its own set of expenses, and they’d funneled most of their time, money, and effort into Team Domination.

  “I can call around and see if we can pick up some extra sponsorships. For us and Shane.” The reality of our high stakes situation crashed into me, taking a big old bite out of hope.

  Now, more than ever, we needed a win.

  I told myself over and over again that I wouldn’t be a distraction to Shane. The question was, was I willing to put not only Shane’s career, but also my brothers’ and my dad’s on the line?

  Chapter Forty

  Shane

  “You’re quiet,” I said, wrapping my hand around Brooklyn’s thigh. She’d hardly said a word all evening as we’d watched TV, and I worried she regretted outing our relationship. I felt mostly relief now that I didn’t have to hide it from her family anymore. More pressure to not screw it up, as well, but it meant no more sneaking around and having to make up an excuse so she could stay over without her brothers coming to hunt her down. “You okay?”

  She leaned her head on my shoulder, her silky hair brushing my bare skin. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

  “About me?”

  A smile broke through the worry in her expression. “Naturally.”

  “Good,” I said, rubbing my thumb over the soft skin of her thigh. “Because you’re always on my mind these days.”

  The worry returned, and I smoothed the spot between her eyebrows, the way I’d done shortly after we’d met all those weeks ago. “So you’re saying I’m distracting?” she asked.

  “Baby, it’s hard for me to lie and say no when your bare legs are draped over my lap and you look the way you do. You distract me in all the right ways, and keep me motivated in the areas I need motivated in.” I brushed her hair off her face so I could see into those big blue eyes. “I’m assuming this is because of what your family said this morning?”

  She bit her lip and nodded. “I worry they’re right. Maybe we should put us on hold and wait until after your fight to pick it back up.”

  “Now that would be distracting. Then all I’d be able to think about was getting back to us, and I’d get hit in the head a lot, the way I did the first day you crashed into my life. And basically every other time you were around. I was far more distracted when I could only imagine kissing you and getting you naked and underneath me. Now I’m focused.” I skimmed my lips over her shoulder and kissed her neck. Then I moved to her lips.

  “Mmm. I enjoy your focus, I do, but—”

  I stroked my tongue over hers until she was the one distracted. Every time I thought I’d gotten my fill of this girl, I took another taste and found myself starving for more. Just like that, I was ready to go again.

  My muscles, unfortunately, not so much. They complained with every tiny movement, reminding me they’d been pushed to the brink of exhaustion, and a non-sexy type groan slipped out. The ice bath had robbed me of my breath, but it’d helped the aching. Looked like I needed another one, but I chose to lose myself in a warm body instead. Or I would once I caught my second wind.

  I sagged into the comfort of the couch.

  Brooklyn ran a finger down my chest. “Oh, sure, get me all riled up and then crash out.”

  “My body’s taken a lot of abuse lately. Give me a second to rest my arms and I’ll be good to go.”

  Her finger drifted lower, and my body was ready to take more abuse at the hands of this girl. “Guess that means I need to do the work,” she said.

  I was about to argue, but then she crawled on top of me. She rocked her hips and my groan was all pleasure this time.

  I ran my hands up her thighs, my energy slowly returning.

  She toyed with the bottom of her shirt. “Okay, so I’m guessing about now’s when you’d remove my top.”

  “You know me. The sooner I get you naked, the better. If it were up to me, you’d lose your clothes the second you stepped inside my apartment.”

  “Well, lucky for me, you were already shirtless when I arrived.”

  “I strive to please.”

  She pulled off her top, and I soaked in the sight of the hot-pink bra I’d ask
ed her to model for me. Her confidence and the seductive way she peered down at me propelled me right from want to need, and my cock twitched, impatient for his turn.

  “That bra’s even sexier than I thought it’d be, but now I’m wondering how it’d look on my floor.”

  “Well, I know how unimaginative you can be.” She reached up and pushed one of the straps off her shoulders. She batted her eyelashes as she did the same with the other side. Then she reached behind her to unhook it, and my lungs stopped taking in oxygen.

  The bra hung there, suspended for a blood-pumping eternity, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I curled my hand around the little pink bow in the center and jerked it down and off. While I was thoroughly enjoying the show, there was no way I was letting her do all the work—or have all the fun—so I dipped my head to one of her exposed breasts and flicked her hard nipple with my tongue.

  She squirmed, the friction turning me on even more, and all thoughts of sore muscles drifted away.

  “Be careful,” she said. “I’d hate for you to sprain something.”

  I gently bit down and she made a husky sound in the back of her throat that would haunt my dreams for weeks. When she pulled away, I started to protest, but then she held up a finger.

  “Patience, Grasshopper.”

  “I have no patience,” I ground out. “You should know that by now.”

  “Well, then, we better work on that.” She undid the button on her shorts, then took her time tugging down her zipper, and I thought it’d be worth the resulting pain to shoot up and push her against the wall.

  My muscles throbbed like they were telling me don’t even think about it, buddy, but a more insistent throbbing grew stronger, and it was seconds from taking over. Finally the fabric fell to the floor, and she stepped out of her shorts, leaving her in nothing but lacy pink panties that matched her discarded bra.

  I reached for her, and she smacked my hand away. I growled, and she flashed me a falsely-innocent vixen smile. I clicked my tongue. “Taking advantage of a poor, beat-up guy.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I feel so sorry for you, the guy who purposely submits himself to a lifestyle that means sore muscles and constantly being punched and jabbed.” She shimmied her hips, a few inches out of my reach. “What about me? I’ve got to do my job and your job just to get off.”

  I shot out my arm, caught her wrist, and yanked her to me. She tumbled into my lap, her perky tits rising and falling with her low, intoxicating laughter. Every muscle in my body burned from the fast movement, and it was totally worth it. I sank my teeth into her earlobe. “No need to do my job. I’ll get it done just fine, I promise.”

  My fingers dug into her hips as I gripped them and thrust against her, and she shuddered and whispered my name. “You wanna keep playing?” I asked.

  She nodded, and before I could make my next move, she rolled her hips, her damp heat meeting my hard, ready dick. “Fuck, baby. You keep that up, and this game’s going to end before I want it to.”

  “That’s okay,” she said, rolling her hips again, and there was no way I was going to come in my shorts like it was my first time, even if every time with Brooklyn felt like a new first.

  I reached between us, moved her panties aside, and dragged a knuckle over her. She whimpered, her nipples getting even harder, and I repeated the move, spreading her wetness over her and paying attention to where she moaned the loudest.

  My eyes met hers as I anticipated watching her come undone in my arms. I slipped a finger inside of her, groaning at the way her walls clamped down on my finger. I couldn’t wait to settle myself between her thighs and sink in nice and deep, but I had a job to do first.

  I added another finger, and she gripped my shoulders and rocked against my hand. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” I asked. “What you do to me? I’ve never felt this way before, not with anyone else.”

  I curled my fingers, searching for the spot that would send her over the edge.

  “Omigosh, right there. Yes, yes, yes.”

  One more pump of my fingers and her orgasm rocketed through her. I leaned back to enjoy the show, and boy did I. Enough that I was going to request an encore every night.

  She sagged against me, and I held on to her, anchoring her to me. Or maybe I was anchored to her. All I knew was that I wanted to stay that way forever.

  At least that was what I thought until she yanked off my shorts and boxers, rolled a condom over me, and then lowered herself onto me, all the way to the hilt.

  She pushed me back against the cushions when I reached for her. “You rest your arms. I’m going to take care of you.”

  Something about the words made me feel like I could fly and like I was going to crash, and I wasn’t sure which scared me more. So I shut all that out and focused on the here and now and the girl fucking me into sweet oblivion.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Brooklyn

  Instinctively I knew something was off. At first I thought I was only disoriented because I was in Shane’s bed, his warm body wrapped around mine. But then it hit me. The extra bright sunlight and the fact that I felt so rested as opposed to being ripped out of my deep sleep.

  I shot up in bed. “What time is it?”

  Shane groaned.

  I reached over to the bedside table and grabbed my phone. “Shit.” I shook Shane. “Weren’t you supposed to be at the gym early this morning?”

  He opened one eye, and when I thrust my phone into his face to show him it was nine thirty already, he swore and climbed out of bed. His movements were stiff, and I could tell his muscles were, too. “I was supposed to spar with a guy from another gym at nine. I’ll call Liam and hope he’s in a good mood. Considering I’m already thirty minutes late, I doubt I’ll get that lucky.”

  “Three texts and one message,” he said as he picked up his phone. “Yeah, today’s going to suck.”

  Grunts accompanied his getting dressed, and I noticed a bruise on his hip that I hadn’t seen last night. Did they really have to push him that hard? Or were they punishing him because he’d dared to start a relationship with me? Liam and Finn thought they were looking out for me, more overprotective than spiteful, but Dad was another story, and I wouldn’t be surprised if his anger was over Shane not being a good little soldier. Or me not being one.

  I finished getting dressed and met Shane in the living room.

  He already had his duffel bag packed and ready to go. “You want to ride with me? Or you could stay. I don’t have time for breakfast, but you’re welcome to anything you find.”

  “I’ll run home and shower.” Not that people wouldn’t know I’d spent the night with him, but wearing yesterday’s clothes screamed walk-of-shame, and I wanted to give my family fewer reasons to be irritated. “Wait. Do you think they’ll be harsher without me there? If so, I’ll come with you.”

  A resigned smile spread across his face. “It won’t make a difference, but I love that you worry about me.” He paused for a quick kiss. “I’ll be fine. I’ll prove my dedication to the team and to my training, even if it kills me first.”

  “See, that would be funnier if you didn’t grunt every time you moved.”

  “We cavemen type just do that. No more worrying, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said, although we both knew I was lying. “I’ll be in soon.”

  The second the door closed behind him, my gut dropped. One night. One night of official coupledom and we’d gotten too comfortable and screwed up. No excuse would be good enough in my family’s eyes, and while I’d reassured myself that a relationship didn’t have to get in the way of Shane’s training and upcoming fight, that belief cracked. The idea that we could work despite the odds stacked against us fractured as well, the two broken notions mixing together and making a hell of an argument for quitting while we were ahead.

  But I didn’t feel ahead, and my brain didn’t want to listen, since it was contrary to everything it wanted. So I decided that the name of the game today would be denial.
Hey, it seemed as good a way to get through the day as any.

  …

  Denial would be a lot easier if the universe wasn’t determined to rub my face in all the ways I was wrong.

  My desk chair creaked as I leaned forward and skimmed through the email pulled up on my laptop again. I should be excited. I was excited. The Golden City Art Exhibition only offered two highly coveted spots to unknown artists, and I had landed one of them. The exhibition garnered tons of attention from the art world; it would be an impressive addition to my portfolio, one that would make galleries take a closer look. It was a huge break for me, and it validated that I was good enough. Apparently they’d emailed me a couple of weeks ago, but when they didn’t hear from me, they looked up my information again and found they’d used “Brooke” instead of “Brooklyn” in my email address.

  My gaze snagged on the date again, and while completely ridiculous, I hoped that it’d somehow changed. My first thought had been You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. Karma had to be playing a joke on me, and since I always tried to live on the up-and-up and spread cheer around, I couldn’t figure out why it was picking on me.

  “Hey, gorgeous.”

  I glanced up at Shane. He was sweat-covered and breathing heavy and sexy as hell. His smile dropped. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I said, too quickly.

  “I’m fine, you know that, right? The sparring session went well, and sure, your brother’s still pissed at me, but that’s nothing new. I figure at least now he has a good reason.”

  I laughed, and it came out a little too forced. Ugh, if this had happened a couple of weeks ago, I’d be sprinting around the gym, pumping my fists like I was champion of the world. Instead it felt a little too déjà vu for my tastes.

  “So glad to see that your relationship isn’t distracting,” Liam said, his words dripping with sarcasm.

  Shane turned and gave him a wide grin. “Don’t be jealous. You were my second pick, if it makes you feel any better.”