by Fields, MJ
My eyes fall open after my last word and I roll my head to the side again. I don’t think Liv’s eyes have moved from me once, and she looks terrified. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here. She looks so scared, but she looks so broken at the same time. I’ve never wanted a girl so badly in my entire life. I want Liv—I want her heart, I want her body, and I want her goddamn crazy shit, too.
“I just wanna quit waking up so sad in the morning, Liv. I don’t think I can do that anymore. Part of you isn’t enough. It…it isn’t even close.” I breathe in slowly and hold my chest full as my mouth rests in a tired smile. We stare at each other for what feels like minutes until Liv rolls her head back to face the front, pausing for a few seconds before turning toward her door, pulling the handle, pushing it open, and exiting the car.
When it closes behind her, I feel like I’ve been given a shot of morphine—shivers run down my spine, my heart throttles, and my head feels light. The panic lasts only a few seconds though, because Liv doesn’t leave. She stands there, just outside the car, arms folded, purse clutched, shoulders hitched high, and the warm night breeze wrapping her dress around her legs.
I exit on my side and watch her over the roof of the car. When I shut my door, she turns to face me, and our eyes lock. My steps are slow and cautious, and I work to unravel my tie as I slowly round the front of the car; Liv’s body turns with my movement so she’s always facing me. Once my tie is undone, I undo the top button on my shirt so I can breathe, unsnapping the cuffs next before I push the sleeves up my arms.
This is where I should stop—here, four steps away…maybe three. I should make sure that she doesn’t really want to run, but what if she does? If she ran now it would leave a scar. I’m in deep, and Liv has the power to sink me mentally, but I know none of that matters right now. I meant what I said to her in the gym the other day. I am no champion if she isn’t there to see it. If I don’t have her, then what is it all for?
I close the gap between us to three steps, then two, reaching for her face with my hands as feet become inches and when my fingers touch her skin, I know there is no going back now. My mouth takes hers and my hands fall deep into her hair as her fingers claw at my shirt, pulling my body closer to her as she stumbles back on her feet. I catch her, sweeping one hand behind her neck, my lips not leaving hers once as I reach my other hand under her legs and scoop her into my arms.
I carry her to my modest home, holding her to me, kissing her just outside the door, my feet on the bottom step, and the only thing between us and my bed is a damned door I could easily kick down right now.
My grip loosens enough for her to slide from my arms to her own feet, and I lift her to the top step, pressing her back against the door, my forehead against hers, leaving only enough room for me to be able to look down at the few inches between us.
We’re both breathing hard, but it’s not exhaustion. My hand sinks into my pants pocket, desperate for the key to my house, and I fumble it, nearly dropping it to the ground as my mouth finds hers again. My knees bent to lower myself to her level, I kiss her raw as she tilts her chin up. I stand tall, and I blindly find the lock and open the door, spinning my way inside with Liv’s taste on my tongue the entire time.
We both kick away our shoes, and as she sinks her hands inside my button-down shirt, pulling free the buttons and tugging up on where my undershirt is tucked, I slip my thumbs under the thin straps I’ve become obsessed with on her shoulders.
The weight of her dress tumbles to her hips, sliding from her wrists as soon as I move the straps over the curve of her arms, and Liv wriggles the rest to her feet.
I lift her under her arms as her cold palms touch my cheeks, her mouth panting and her lips brushing against mine with stuttered breaths. Our kiss breaks as I raise her as high as I can up onto the loft bed and lift myself right after her. She’s caged beneath me, between my arms as I move over her and she slides back, arching until her breasts brush against my chest, causing her to moan.
I’ve held her like this for nights, and I’ve always obeyed the line I let her draw, but I obliterate it now with her permission, my mouth sucking at the tender spot under her chin, leaving a trail of kisses on her writhing body until my tongue feels the hard peak of one of her breasts.
Her voice breaks with a sweet moan, cut short by the way she moves her hand to her mouth so her teeth can latch on to her fist, her body arching into my touch in search of more pressure. I give it to her, first a gentle bite and pass of my tongue against her nipple, then I suck hard, circling the tip with my tongue in my mouth until I’m sure I’ve left it raw.
Liv’s hands fall to my hair, and she grips tightly, urging my mouth to make her other breast just as sore. I let my bottom lip linger on it, lifting my chin and dragging it against her until the rough stubble of my chin scrapes against the sensitive peak.
“Ah,” she breathes out, tucking her chin and lifting her head enough to meet my gaze.
Her eyes are hazed, and she’s drunk with lust. The tip of her tongue is pinched between her front teeth, and she’s letting out short pants in anticipation, which I draw out until I feel her lower body begin to squirm underneath me.
She needs to be touched.
My lip draws up on one side and I breathe out a light laugh, myself drunk on this power she’s letting me have over her body. I lick her nipple and blow, chilling it until it’s so hard that I can bite it with a little more force, and the feel of my teeth makes Liv buck her hips up and pound her fists down at her sides, grabbing fists full of the blanket beneath us.
I nestle into her side and suck on her breast until she moans out loud, so loud that I hope someone can hear it outside of these metal walls. I want to pound my chest in pride for making her feel like this—for making her feel something. She feels something for me—with me.
My fingertips drag from the center of her chest to her trembling, bare stomach until I feel the lace of the top of her panties. I brush my knuckles along the band then dip my thumb inside, moving it slowly across the width of her body from hip to hip. This is one of those lines that I’ve held as a hard no with her, and it has been torture. I both want to make this last and be certain it’s allowed, so I slowly add more fingertips just inside the soft cotton and lace under her belly button until I have enough to tug into my palm.
Liv cries out softly, her voice vibrating with the word.
“Please,” she begs, and I move my hand just a little more, my palm flat against her bare skin and the soft tickle of her teasing against my fingertips.
I glance to her face, and her eyes are closed tightly while her tongue takes a slow pass over her bottom lip, her imagination already there. The only thing left is the reality.
My eyes fall closed, and my mouth finds its way to her raw skin, to her now warm and wet breast that rises and falls with each breath she takes, and I kiss it while my fingers flex against her lower body. I hold her here, on this cliff, for nearly a minute until I’m satisfied that her body is telling me she wants more. Her hand wraps around my forearm, and she coaxes me lower as I suck her nipple hard one final time, my fingers falling deep inside her while she grabs my arm with both hands and holds it against her tightly.
“Oh my god, Memphis…” My name falls from her lips over and over again, her hips moving for more as I shift my weight and eventually pull my hand away from where she wants me to touch her most.
I position myself between her knees and hook my thumbs on either side of her panties, tugging them over her ass and hips quickly, letting her lift one knee to slip her leg free. Her eyes open on mine, but I drift my gaze down her body and take in every bare inch of her, from her hair splayed in messy, golden waves around my bed to her hands flat at her sides, fingers curling and scratching at the blanket beneath her.
I rest my hands on her hips, my thumbs stretching toward her middle, grazing the light trail of hair that leads to soft pink skin. I tease her, letting my thumb take gentle strokes against her hot, wet center. I
touch her like this until the pressure in my cock becomes unbearable, and I breathe out raggedly, my eyes connect with hers, reading them.
My stare bonded to hers, I sit back so I’m on my knees, and my hands drag along the insides of each of her thighs until I reach her knees. I push them wider, and her legs fall open willingly as her body rolls in slow waves.
“So fucking sexy,” I say, moving my hands to the button on my pants, unclasping it and pulling my zipper down enough to free my cock. I hold it in my hand, stroking slowly, taking pleasure from her waiting body laid out in front of me to take. I can smell her sex, and it makes me want to be rough, but I restrain myself because that feels just as good.
“Are you on something?” My eyes dim with my question, and she nods quickly.
“I’ve been on birth control for a year. I’m fine,” she says, her words coming out breathless.
I groan with the knowledge that I’m inches away from sinking inside her, and I position myself so I’m towering over her, holding my weight up with one arm, my other hand still stroking my cock. I let the tip slide against her wet center, taking slow drags up and down until I’m slick with her.
My chin tucked to my chest, I taste her belly button and lick my way up her body until my lips are on her neck and my cock is just at her entrance. With one thrust, I slide inside her and feel my entire chest crush like I’m drowning in an ocean. I move slow at first, our bodies finding their fit together until everything is perfectly matched, and when my lungs fill again, I begin to pump into her harder.
Liv’s legs wrap around my waist, and my right hand finds her thigh, holding it high against me as I pummel into her, rocking until her body has slid to the deepest corner of my bed. Her hands reach up to brace her head against the wall and she arches her chest, begging me to suckle her skin while my cock fills her over and over.
I let the weight of my body ease onto her and tuck my head enough for my tongue to reach her hard tits, flicking her nipple with short passes until she begins to moan. Her hands hold my head against her, pressing me harder into her flesh while my hips rock and I groan, chasing this building explosion that always seems to just be out of reach.
“Fuck me, Memphis. Fuck me so hard that I will feel you for days. Fuck me so you can fight, and it’s the last fuck you get until you kill that man in the ring. Fuck me because I’m yours. This body—my pussy—is yours. I give it to you.”
Her dirty mouth drives me over the edge and I growl as I push into her, wrecking our bodies with pleasure, my eyes wide with desperation and my cock swollen with power.
“You are mine,” I grunt out with one final thrust, her body quivering and convulsing as her hips rock hungrily, wanting her orgasm to last.
I come in her and she squeals from the slick heat as I keep pushing into her, my hand now touching her center, my thumb pressed into her swollen, pink skin. I rub in circles, and she begins to shake with every pulse until her back arches enough to lift her shoulder blades completely from the bed, and she starts to vibrate out a hum.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhh, Memphis.”
Fuck me, the way she says my name like this, with that voice. I’ve never felt more alpha than I do right now, and I don’t let her stop, pushing into her, touching her, holding her orgasm hostage until her nails dig into my back and she begs me to stop.
I ease up finally and stare at her, my hips still moving in slow drags, and I move my hand to grip myself again, guiding my cock in and out, torturing her until her eyes open on mine and she bites her lip, ready for me again.
“You sleep here tonight,” I say.
She exhales slowly, a blissful smile stretching her mouth wide as she nods.
“You sleep here every night,” I say.
Her eyes pause on mine at this, and her focus moves from one eye to the other. I’m not sure if the hesitation is because of me, or because of her, but it’s there, and I don’t want it to ruin any of this.
“Or just tonight. We’ll start with tonight, and then we’ll see what happens tomorrow,” I say, falling into her, cradling her back against my chest, our bodies still connected where I pulse inside of her, still hard and unable to use reason because of it.
“I’ll stay,” she finally says, her voice hoarse and frail, but nothing sad about it. She sounds high on the sensations still numbing her body, and my muscles are so jacked with adrenaline I feel like I could go rounds with the best right now.
I rock my hips into her slowly, filling her again, and my lips rest on the center of her back. Her skin is so silky and warm, and the beads of moisture that dampen it is salty and sweet to the taste. I consume her while I have her, and I never let my mind go to what happens tomorrow.
Tonight—here—I am her champion, and that’s all that matters.
Fifteen
Liv
I didn’t sleep. I think Memphis knows because I felt his eyes on me most of the night. I pretended—a little for him and a little for me. My eyes remained closed even though my body was restless. I’m not afraid, but the fact that I’m not makes me suspicious somehow. There isn’t an easy way to put it into words, not that I have to. Memphis seems to understand the things that make me how I am.
Maybe he just accepts my imperfections.
He’s a fighter. I wasn’t supposed to fall for him.
But I am.
The morning sun is warming this small space, and my skin is damp from our body heat and the heavy quilt sheltering us. I’ve never been so comfortable lying naked in a man’s arms. Enoch was always cold after sex—both literally and emotionally. He didn’t like to talk, and he rarely liked to touch.
He’d compliment me, and shower me with sexy words, but only long enough to get me to let him sleep—or leave for the office. I wonder now if that’s where he really went.
So many lies.
Memphis’s lips press into my hair, and his hand shifts beneath me enough to reach the strands that have fallen across my face. I smile as he tucks them behind my ear.
“Good morning.” His voice is a gravelly whisper, and I feel it vibrate in his chest.
“Good morning,” I hum, snuggling in, heat be damned.
“You didn’t sleep at all,” he says through a chuckle.
I knew he noticed. I shrug one shoulder.
“I’m okay. I have this ability to operate on very little.” It’s Sunday, which means I really don’t have anything to do. I may crawl into my bed upstairs and crash for a while, but not until I know Memphis is busy with something else. I don’t want him to think I can’t sleep here. I can hardly sleep anywhere unless I’m alone. I think there’s something built into my fabric that’s always on alert that whomever I’m with is going to disappointment me.
But Memphis isn’t. Somehow, I just know it.
“You have to run,” I say, preparing my body to be let go. He doesn’t move, instead wrapping his arms around me tighter.
“It’s Sunday. How about today is a day of rest?” I feel his lip raise against my cheek.
“Uh uh,” I say, shaking my head and wiggling loose, finally sitting up to look down at him.
My hand feels along the side and top of my head, and I realize that my hair is probably tangled and teased from our night’s activities. I blush a little and close my eyes, drawing his quilt to my chest. Memphis tugs at it, though, and when I open my lids to look at him, he smirks, pulling one more time until my breasts are bared.
“Goddamn, you’re beautiful.”
My chin tucks and my cheeks round from the heat of his attention. His eyes roam down my face to my arms and breasts until he reaches forward with the back of one hand and traces my profile with a feather-light touch.
He’s quiet, and the longer he showers me with his seductive affection the more his brow draws in. Something is weighing on him, and I assume he’s worried about me.
“I like staying here,” I say, wanting to set him at ease. His eyes perk up a little and his slight frown shifts to a smile as his gaze comes back to mine.<
br />
“Yeah?” His voice is quiet.
“Yeah,” I say. I take his right hand in both of mine and I begin to massage each finger. Even these small parts of him are exhausted yet strong. His eyes grow heavy from my touch.
“I could put you to sleep like this,” I say.
His chuckle is soft, but deep.
“I’m completely on board with this.” His laugh is raspy, the morning kind.
I work his hand until the tension in it is gone, then I hold my palms out for him to give me his other one. He smiles faintly and rolls to his side, resting it on my legs, and I begin to massage again. His eyes are focused on my hands while I study him. There’s this flicker that happens in his eyes when he’s thinking. I’ve seen him do it when Leo talks to him about fighting defensively, as if he’s soaking information in and dissecting it at lightning speed and applying it to every possible outcome. His eyes…they’re doing that now, their focus rapidly scanning from knuckle to knuckle. The movements are miniscule, yet they’re there. I can’t ignore them because they mean he’s thinking hard about something.
“Hey, lost boy?” I finally say, shaking his hand against my lap. His eyes widen and he breathes out a smile, coming back from wherever he was when his gaze meets mine.
“Sorry, I was…”
“Thinking?” I finish for him.
His lip ticks up and his eyes settle on mine for a few long seconds.
“You can tell me anything, you know?” I actually mean it; I’m not even afraid.
Memphis moves closer to me and rolls onto his stomach, holding his chest up with his elbows, his hands both cupping one of mine. His face softens as he gazes at our fingers touching, his enormous hands swallow mine completely, and I love that they do. Somehow, nearly a minute passes, and the quiet in here grows even thicker.
“I never want to lie to you,” he says, his eyes lifting to meet mine, his hands stopping to hold me still. There’s a gentle squeeze, and I wonder if that’s what keeps me calm or if it’s simply Memphis, who has somehow become this rare exception to everything I’ve ever known of this world.
