“Sit down. I’ll get you a beer. Relax. I don’t need any help. I’m just fine. I’m pregnant, I’m not crippled,” she snapped.
As she waddled into the kitchen, I smiled. Seeing her this way was very rewarding to me. Although I was certain she had to be at least a little uncomfortable with day-to-day activities, she never made an issue of anything. She remained as stubborn as always, and as mentally and physically tough as the day I met her.
I watched as she began to clean the mess up from the kitchen counter. Feeling a little guilty, and wanting to touch her nonetheless, I stood from my chair and walked into the kitchen and stood beside her.
“I love the smell of Italian food,” I sighed as I savored the aroma from the fresh vegetables she used to prepare the sauce.
“I wish I didn’t feel so fat from eating. That basil Shane, basil does it to me every time,” she sighed.
“I remember,” I chuckled as I moved closer to her.
I reached toward her face, and traced the outline of her jaw with my index finger, “Maybe that’s one of the things I love about Italian food, the memories of that night and the smell of the basil.”
“Stop touching me like that,” she said softly as she shifted her body to the left, causing my finger to fall from her cheek.
“I haven’t even got a good start yet,” I murmured.
She turned and stepped toward the refrigerator, “Shane, stop. It’s bad enough…”
I reached for her shoulders and spun her around so she faced me.
“Drop that shit, Kace. Right now, drop it,” I breathed.
“Shane…”
I moved my hands from her shoulders to her swollen breasts. As I began to encompass her chest in my hands, she moaned. As she groaned, I squeezed a little more and began to kiss her neck.
“Shane,” she growled lightly, “stop…”
I didn’t.
I drug my teeth along her neck and kissed my way down until my mouth was along her clavicle. As I nibbled on the surface of the bone, she moaned and dropped the plastic containers she held. Without looking up form kissing her, I reached for the refrigerator door and swung it closed.
“Kace, it’s time…” I whispered into her ear.
“Oh my God,” she moaned.
I reached down and lifted her from the floor and held her cradled in my arms. Carefully, I carried her into the master bathroom, kissing her the entire way. I carefully lowered her to the tile surface above the Jacuzzi tub and turned the water on.
As the tub began to fill, I kissed her deeply as she sat beside the tub.
In looking down at Kace now, I saw her in an entirely different light. She was always beautiful to me, but now she was a different type of beautiful. Covered in a gorgeous glow of proud wife and soon to be mother, she looked up and moaned lightly.
“Shane, I love you.”
“I love you, babe,” I responded as I bent down and kissed her lips.
Slowly, I began to undress her as she sat beside the filling tub.
“Shane, I feel fat. Don’t…”
“Babe, you’re beautiful. So much more beautiful now than ever,” I whispered as I continued to undress her.
As I lowered her into the tub, she looked up and smiled. Something about seeing her in this manner was very rewarding. Transformed from the beautiful girl I once met into the gorgeous woman who was before me, she appeared more the woman of my dreams than I had ever actually imagined. As if my passion changed as I admired her, she became the new object of my desire. Now pregnant with my child, she exuded everything I yearned for in a woman and a wife.
She was not the object of my dreams.
She became my dream.
Slowly, as Kace watched, I undressed. I stepped into the tub and nestled beside her, kissing her and raking my wet hands through her hair and along every inch of her body. As she closed her eyes and smiled, she began to moan as if filled with an eagerness to feel my touch. I continued to trace my fingers slowly along her face, over her breasts, across her stomach, and along her thighs. As my hands reached her feet, I rubbed the bottoms with my thumbs. Moaning in pleasure, she opened her eyes and smiled.
“Shane…”
“Shhh, relax, babe. Just relax,” I whispered.
Slowly, my hands worked up her legs and toward her chest. As my hands encompassed her breasts, she began to moan deeply. As my fingers found her nipples, I carefully moved over and slid on top of her. My lips against hers, I kissed her passionately as I reached down and guided myself into the warmth of her inner being.
And for the first time in as long as I could remember, Kace and I made sweet passionate love.
SHANE. The six weeks I spent running provided no upkeep on my physical conditioning. Kelsey secured the spot for the championship fight again, and although I had been training for several weeks, I was now feeling the ache once again from my poor decision to stay away from the gym.
“Get those knees in the air, Dekkar. If I have to tell you again, I’m going to cancel this show. You’re a sloppy god damned mess,” Kelsey screamed as he slapped the edge of the ring.
“I’m on it boss,” I said between breaths.
“You’re not on anything. You were on vay-goddamned-cation for six weeks, and now you’re paying the price, aren’t you? Now, get ‘em in the damned air. My little sister jumps better than that,” he growled.
“Alright boss,” I huffed.
“Probably ought to call him and say we’re going to forfeit, this is going to be the mismatch of the century,” he complained as he turned away.
“No sir. Not a…”
“Mismatch,” I said as I sped up the pace of the rope.
“You get those knees in the air or I’m calling them,” he shouted over his shoulder.
“On it boss,” I hollered back.
Endurance is the most important part of boxing successfully. Contrary to what most people think, brawn, size, speed, and ability are important, but not as critical to a boxer’s success as endurance. If a boxer doesn’t have endurance, he’ll never last a round in the ring in a fight, let alone two successive rounds. For me, running and jumping rope build endurance more than anything else, and most boxers would likely agree. My legs and chest feeling as if they were on fire, I lifted my knees higher and crossed my arms every third jump.
If this doesn’t end quickly, I’m going to collapse.
I looked down at the surface of the ring. I was jumping in a puddle of my own sweat large enough to bathe in. As I maintained my now new pace, Kelsey slowly sauntered across the gym and toward the ring.
“Alright, slow it down and let’s get you on the speed bag for a bit. You’re going to spar tomorrow. Three in a row. Four rounders,” he slapped both hands on the surface and waited.
As I slowed the pace of my rope and lowered my knees, I turned toward him, “Three?’
“Yeah, three. You got a problem with it?” he asked.
“No boss, just…” I brought my arms to a slow stop and stepped to the side of the puddle.
He rolled his shoulders back, stuck out his chest and looked up with disgust in his eyes, “Just what? God damn it Shane. We’re going to win this fight. I know you can fight, and I know there ain’t a fucking thing I can do to make you a better fighter, as long as your head’s in it. Did you hear me? If your head’s in it. Now, I train you. You sure as fuck don’t train me, kid. So, I need to get your head in it. Now, I look at you and I ask myself things. I ask myself, Kelsey, what are ya going to do with this damned kid to make sure his head’s in the fight? Then, I answer myself because there ain’t another soul in this gym of mine I trust to give me an intelligent answer. So, I say to myself Kelsey, I tell you what. My suggestion is to get him used to fighting again, because there’s something in that fucked up head of his that likes fighting, and only fighting makes him want to be in the fight. And, I look at myself and say, damn old man, that’s a great answer.”
He slapped the edge of the ring and pointed at his c
hest, “So, the old man inside of me told the trainer who stands on the edge of the ring here what to do. And the trainer in me is doing just that. And you’re the trained. The boxer. The trainee. The man who doesn’t know jack shit. So, tomorrow, we’re fighting three in a row. Four rounds a piece. Back to god damned back. You know why?” he stood six feet or so from the edge of the ring and raised his hands in the air.
“Because you’re the trainer?” I asked.
“No!” he screamed as he waved his hands back and forth.
“Because I’m the trainer and I said so. That’s the important part. The part you never understand. You do what I say. And I say you’re fighting three back to back,” he shook his head and lowered his hands.
“If you say so, boss,” I smiled.
“Well, I just did say so,” he grunted.
“Now, if you’re done taking a break, let’s get on that speed bag.”
“Yes sir,” I responded.
“That’s more like it,” he said as he nodded his head and smiled.
As I lifted the ropes and stepped from the ring, he shook his head and turned away. As dramatic as Kelsey was in his daily activities, it was difficult to be certain if his disgust was something he actually felt, or if it was all part of his show. Either way, he often made me feel as if I wasn’t good enough to meet his expectations of me. The end result was good for us both. For Kelsey, I worked harder than I ever had, and probably ever would. As I dropped the rope beside me and started slowly on the speed bag, Kelsey approached.
“Now, beat on this thing for about thirty minutes. I’ll come get your tired ass when I think you’re done. And, as you’re beating on it, think of how you’re going to out think and out box that big Alabama cornfed fucker, alright?” Kelsey snapped.
“I’m on it, boss,” I responded as I sped up the pace of my hands slightly.
Tyson “Tick-Tock” Brock was a 237 pound savage born and raised in the state of Alabama by his father. His father, a former boxer, trained him in his early years. His grandfather, also a boxer, trained his father. His great grandfather the same. As the story goes, his great great grandfather was a boxer on the plantation where he was raised a slave.
Seven or eight years prior to his involvement with professional boxing, he began a YouTube channel of his own, featuring his street brawling in the back yards of people stupid enough to challenge him. Every single video which was added to the channel would eventually end up with a million views, and a few thousand comments. A professional trainer who viewed a few dozen of his street brawls approached him and offered to train him – the rest is history. Now the undisputed Heavyweight Champion of the World, he was certainly going to be my toughest opponent. His career, not unlike mine, was never down, never out, and undefeated.
As I got lost in the rhythm of the speed bag, I began to think of the videos I had seen of his fights. Slowly, I unfocused my vision on the bag and recalled the matches in the many alleys and yards he had fought in.
As I replayed the videos in my mind, I came to the realization there was no way on earth I going to win this fight. If it went the distance, I’d lose for certain. He was far too big, and far too strong. He’d win on points alone.
To win, I would have to beat him.
Unconscious.
KACE. Josh never let me have friends – male or female. Being able to have Vee as a friend and spending time with her almost every day had been an absolute blessing. Both of us enjoying our first pregnancy together had been an interesting journey to say the least. Nightly phone calls and texts to discuss newfound facts, advancements, and future plans are something I have truly looked forward to. It’s almost as if we’re in a competition to see who experiences something first.
The amount of shopping a person can do for a new baby is incredible. I have a nursery absolutely full of clothes, toys, bedding, a crib, mobiles, shoes, hats, and many other various items I have purchased on the many trips Vee and I have made together. I suppose by the time a woman has her second or third baby she becomes immune to all of the baby butterflies I get when I see something cute, but for now I’ll just enjoy them.
“I want one with the big tires, so I can jog with it,” I said as I pointed to the stroller with huge tires on the back and front.
Vee rubbed her stomach and groaned, “I’m not running anywhere. I waddle. Look at me, Kace, I’m huge.”
I released the stroller and turned toward Vee, “You’re so cute. And you have a little tummy. You have a long torso. I’m just short. And fat. And I can’t wait to plop this little sucker out and start playing with him.”
Vee sighed and rolled her eyes, “Six more weeks.”
“The doctor told Shane and I the other day he might want me to have him early if I don’t naturally have him by then. I’m too big. Well, the baby’s too big. He’s a little fatty,” I chuckled.
“Wouldn’t it be funny if he was born all ripped like Shane? A little bitty soft baby all cut up and covered in muscles?” Vee giggled.
As I laughed and tried to develop a mental illustration of a muscular baby, my mind quickly formed grotesque images of circus freaks and clowns. As my stomach began to grumble, I reached into my purse and fumbled through the contents.
“Want a banana?” I asked as I pulled one from my purse.
Vee shook her head and laughed, “No thanks. You’re still on those damned things? Mine’s granola. God, I can’t eat enough of that shit. Honey Bunches of O’s too – the one with the crunchy stuff in it. Maybe the crunchy stuff is granola.”
I peeled the banana and looked around the store to make sure no one was watching. I felt a little out of place devouring a banana in the store, but I was hungry and needed something to fill my empty stomach. As I quickly ate half of it, I looked at the remaining half and began to chuckle.
“So, are you and Ripp still…uhhm, you know. Not?” I asked as I stared at the uneaten portion of the banana.
“Fucking Ripp. He’s so weird. He thinks his cock is going to hurt the baby. I’ve explained, shown him pictures, everything. And he still refuses to fuck me. I swear. My only sexual satisfaction is received from watching Magic Mike on loop. Over and over. Magic Mike is magic you know,” she laughed.
“But I guess on the upside, Ripp’s so excited about the entire process. He falls asleep listening to my stomach,” she rolled her eyes and smiled.
“Shane pets mine. He can’t feel the baby kicking enough. After the first time he felt it, that’s all he wants to do. Well, that and prepare for the title fight. Train and rub my belly.”
“Do you guys…” Vee began to ask.
I didn’t want to make her feel any more sadly than she already felt about Ripp not having sex with her. Slowly I curled my mouth into a half-smile, and nodded my head slightly.
“Every now and again we do, but not that much. He’s still being punished for leaving,” I laughed as I reached for the stroller in front of me with my free hand.
I looked at the row of strollers as I ate the other half of the banana and tried to consider a multi-colored one, but continued to be drawn to the blue one with the bigger tires. I gripped the handle and pulled it from the rack. Shane and I were both excited about having a boy, and everything we had purchased or obtained was a shade of blue or had blue in it.
“Let’s get matching strollers, it’ll be fun,” I grinned.
Vee widened her eyes and tilted her head to the side, “We don’t know if she’s a boy or a girl, Kace. I’m not going to get a four wheel drive blue stroller and push a girl around in it.”
“You said she,” I smiled as I pushed the stroller back and forth on the floor.
“Did I ?” she asked.
“Uh huh. You know, don’t you?” I asked excitedly.
“No, really I don’t. If I said it, it was inadvertent. Maybe I’m hoping.”
“I’d love to have a little girl, but I wouldn’t trade my little boy for anything,” I smiled.
“Well, what do you want to do?”
I asked as I pushed down on the handle and lifted the front tires from the floor.
“Well, I’ll either have to get one of the unisex ones or wait,” Vee sighed.
“Okay. Let’s wait I guess,” I said sadly as I dropped the stroller’s tires onto the floor.
Vee shook her head and pointed to the stroller as I pushed it into the empty slot beside the others, “Get yours, Kace. I can wait.”
“No, I’ll wait. I was excited for getting one, but I don’t need it. We’ll come together with the babies, it’ll be more fun that way,” I grinned.
“So…” Vee hesitated and looked down at the floor by my feet.
“What?”
She looked up attempted to hide her worried look, “Well, Shane. Is he okay now?”
I held the handle of the stroller as I considered what Shane had done, and the discussions we had after he came home. Shane is an honorable man and he is truly in love with me, but Shane had issues accepting things; accepting the fact that he is worthy as a human, a man, and a soon to be father. When I talked to the doctor about him, he told me Shane probably suffers a little bit from feeling inadequate or incompetent. Probably why he chooses to box, the doctor said. Now, since we’ve spent so much time talking, I think Shane is going to be just fine. He found a way to accept our baby not being the same as the majority of the other babies. I’m not like any other woman, and Shane isn’t like any other man. For us to have a baby like every other baby would be silly. No matter what, our little baby is going to be special.
I released the stroller and smiled. As I turned to Vee, she smiled too.
“Yes, he’s fine. He had a little incident, that’s all. It’s tough for men, I think. They’re so competitive. And you know, with him and Ripp, everything’s a contest. I’m sure you guys having a baby at the same time is kind of tough for him. Maybe kind of like a slap in the face, I don’t know,” I shrugged.
“Kace, I’m so sorry,” she breathed.
“Don’t be. Not for Shane, or the baby. Our baby will be just fine, Vee. Don’t worry. Yours will be too,” I sighed.
“I know, I’m just an emotional mess right now, you know with Ripp not having sex with me and everything. It’s hard. For some reason, I’m just horny as fuck. And now I feel like I’m fat and ugly,” her voice began to crack as she finished speaking.
Unbroken (Fighter Erotic Romance #4) Page 4
