The smell of her perfume, the touch of her skin, every single thing about her had every one of my synapsis firing. My need to claim her, to possess her, was almost violent. She owned every part of me, and tonight I was going to show her.
Reaching behind me, I pulled my T-shirt over my head and threw it on the floor with the rest of our clothes. Desperate to mould her body to mine, I pushed her gently up against the door and kissed the ever-loving fuck out of her. The taste of her sweet, plump lips was addictive.
I feasted.
Spearing my hand into her soft curls, I devoured her. Our lips parted for the briefest of time. Our need for each other was stronger than our need to breathe. I knew this wouldn’t end how I wanted it to, with me buried so deeply inside her that I couldn’t tell where she ended and I began, but just when I was about to pull away, she touched her tongue tentatively against mine. It was like adding fuel to the fire. She moaned into my mouth and the sound vibrated straight to my dick. There was no way I could possibly get any harder than I was then.
Torturing myself some more, I slid my hand up her thigh and pulled it up to wrap around my hip. Grinding my hips against hers, I pressed the seam of her jeans against her core with every thrust I could tell by the hitch in her breathing that she was close, and she wasn’t alone. Easing her back down from the edge, I gave her lips one last peck, then dropped her leg and picked her up bridal style.
The street lamps outside illuminated the room enough that I didn’t need to waste time turning on the lights. The animal in me wanted to throw her on the bed and rip the rest of her clothes off. The man in me wanted to revere and nurture her. The look she gave me, so full of love and tenderness, satisfied both. Laying her down gently, I hovered over her, putting my weight of my forearms, and I couldn’t help but stare. The contrast of her pale, soft skin against my own fascinated me. I had no idea why someone so pure and so beautiful, inside and out, would choose me, but I would never take her for granted.
“I love you,” I whispered, so quietly that I wondered if she heard me. She stilled beneath me, and after a moment that went on for eternity, she tilted my chin so that my gaze met her own.
“I love you too,” she replied, and just like that, all was right with the world. Grinning with pure, unadulterated happiness, I kissed her. Something between us had shifted. Not only was there a knowing of myself, of what I had trained my body to do, now there was a knowing of us and of who we could be together.
I undid the top button of her jeans and slid them down her legs, which I fantasised about. Regularly.
Her hands moved to my belt buckle, but I stopped her.
“Not yet. Tonight is about you, and I’m barely keeping it together as it is. Tomorrow night you can get me naked before we even leave the locker room. But if my cock so much as touches any part of your body tonight, I’m going to come, and I really don’t want Danny making mincemeat of my balls.”
“Maybe we should stop then,” she suggested. “It doesn’t seem fair that you keep pleasuring me when you can’t get anything from it.”
“Trust me, Irish, I get plenty from it. Now, I’ve got some pent-up energy to burn off, so just relax and enjoy the ride.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, and fuck if that didn’t make my dick twitch.
Her lacy underwear looked black in the half light and so delicate against my big, clumsy hands as I slid the straps of her bra down her shoulders. She finished what I had started and removed it completely. When she was done, she reached for her panties, but I stilled her hand. Almost reverently, I peeled them down her legs, feeling the tremble that belied her confidence. Nothing had ever compared to that moment. Making love to someone I loved so completely fulfilled me in a way that nothing else ever would. It was possible that the tremble wasn’t hers, but mine.
I moved to lay down beside her. Kissing her softly, I traced circles on the small of her back until she shivered and buried herself in the heat of my body.
“Tell me again,” I whispered.
“I love you, Kier,” she replied, knowing instantly what I meant. It was all I wanted to hear, all I needed to hear for the rest of my life. She parted her legs as my touch moved closer to her core. Her lips left mine as she arched her back in delicious anticipation, and I gave her what she craved. She moaned as my fingers traced gentle circles across her folds. I’d never seen anything more beautiful than her body in the throes of ecstasy. Even her surgical scar was flawless. It was the badge of honour that made my girl a warrior. Leaning forward, I ran my tongue along it before peppering it with kisses.
Irish was so close that she gripped my arm fiercely. The ache to shed my jeans and sink my body deep into hers was almost unbearable. Knowing that I wouldn’t last much longer, I slipped two fingers inside of her and flicked my thumb against her clit. Her grip was almost painful as she cried out. Her body bowed in orgasm before she melted boneless against me. The whole time she stared deep into my eyes, her gaze unwavering. It was the most intimate moment I’d ever experienced. As I tucked her exhausted body against my own, I wondered how three little words would ever be enough to convey just how this felt.
***
Every fighter brought something different to the ring. Some carried rage and looked to harness it. Some took fear and tried to overcome it. Fewer still, like Con, made magic. Each man brought what he needed to in order to give himself that edge to win. I brought pride. Pride and pain. Before any fight, I would look out across the ring, imagining that my da was standing in the back somewhere, a pint in his hand, talking the ear off his mates about how I was his boy and how proud he was of me. It didn’t matter whether I won or not. I knew he’d love seeing me fight. He was gone, had been for a long time now, but that didn’t stop me from imagining his voice shouting my name from across the room, cheering me on.
I came into the ring with pride, and I left with it. But the pain? I gave that to the man I left behind. The rage at knowing my da wasn’t watching from the front row, just where he should have been, that I bottled up each and every day. When the bell sounded, all of that anger and frustration went into every hit. Inside those ropes, I became the man I needed to be. Losing a loved one was a pain you carried with you, but one day, if you’re lucky enough, you meet someone who takes your pain and makes it their own, who makes you feel such overwhelming and powerful things that you find yourself forgetting to be sad. That was how it was when I was with Irish. After what we’d done together, after the words we’d spoken, I wanted nothing more than to wrap her in my arms and love her for as long as she’d let me.
It was why I had to go.
She looked so peaceful, that I couldn’t resist bending to kiss her soft, plump lips. She woke with a start and, looking me over, clocked the fact that I was dressed.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“To get my head in the game, love. If I spend one more hour in bed with you, I’ll forget my reason to fight. This time tomorrow, I’ll be all yours, but I owe the boys tonight.”
Grabbing the front on my sweater, she pulled me forward slightly.
“You owe it to yourself as well. Now go do what you’ve got to do and make me proud. I’ll be the one in green waiting for you in the front row,” she replied with a lazy grin.
“You’re wearing green?” Nothing sexier than seeing my girl sitting front row and wearing my colours. Shit, I just about came every time she walked round wearing any of my clothes. I had a particular preference for seeing her in nothing but plain white panties and one of my hoodies.
“Of course I’m wearing your colours. That’s how they’ll know I’m your girl. Besides, you can wear an England shirt on St George’s Day and we’ll call it even.”
I shuddered at the very thought.
“Everyone will know you’re my girl by the guard ring I’ll have round you,” I said, making her roll her eyes.
“Honestly, what do you think is going to happen to me? It’s a professional boxing match.”
“Have you
ever been to a boxing match before, love?”
“Well, no.”
“There’ll be men and beer, and you with the sexiest arse I’ve ever seen. If even one fucker tries chatting you up or starting something while I’m ramped up and in the ring, I’m likely to lose my boxing licence for life.”
She gave me that long-suffering look that said I was overreacting, but cupped my jaw as she leant forward to kiss me gently.
“Then I’ll stay in your circle of friends until you’ve won yourself a title, because there’s only one man I’m starting something with tomorrow,” she said, talking me down from my over-possessive ledge.
“Hold onto your knickers, Irish. There’s a storm coming.” With a cheeky grin, I gave her one last, lingering kiss before picking up my training bag and walking away.
“Cheesiest line ever,” she hollered after me.
“But it made you wet though, didn’t it?” I called back and closed the door to the perfect sound of her giggle.
***
As I made my way out of the building, I clocked Con’s car parked by the curb with the engine running.
“Are you fuckin’ psychic then?” I asked him, jumping into the passenger seat.
“I don’t need to be, dickhead,” he replied with a chuckle. “I just think exactly the same way you do. Nowhere I’d be the night before a fight ‘cept with my girl. Nowhere I need to be the day of the fight than as far away from her as possible. Can’t get your head in the right place for a fight with a woman who makes you soft.”
“Why the lift then?”
“I was feeling generous, dickhead. I’m pretty sure Em’s bet money on you. Last thing I need is you falling off your bike because your head is somewhere else and losing me good money.”
“Wow! I’m feelin’ the fuckin’ love over here, brother. So where we goin?”
“Where we always go,” he replied as he pulled away from the curb. “Home.”
***
Turns out that home is exactly where I needed to be. It was a Saturday, so a lot of the younger kids were in Driscoll’s gym, training with Danny and Liam. When Con was in the country, he pitched in with Saturday training as well. The kids stared at him in awe, like he was some kind of rock star. I guessed to them he was. Maybe someday they’d look at me like that.
“Kier, will you help me with the bag again?” Pete asked me. He was about ten years old with the spindliest little arms and legs you’d ever seen, but the kid was all heart. No matter who was here, he always came to me for help first.
“Sure thing.” I walked over to hold the bag for him. He didn’t need anyone really. It hardly moved when he hit the thing, but I’d never damage his pride by pointing that out. After an hour of coaching, I could see he was getting tired.
“That’s it for today, but you’re doing great. You’ve really improved over the last few weeks. Just remember to keep practicing that jab combination. Speed is every bit as important as strength and accuracy.”
“You really think I’m doin’ good?” he asked with a hopeful smile.
“Definitely. I don’t think you’re gonna have to worry about the heavy-weight division anytime soon, but you’re a solid fly weight. You keep up the hard work, and I might be able to talk Danny into letting you fight next year.”
“Thanks, Kieran.” He looked like he was struggling with his gloves, so patting the seat next to me, I waited for him to sit down before pulling off the Velcro tabs for him.
“Can I ask you something?” he said curiously.
“As long as it’s about boxing. I don’t fancy any questions where I’d have to explain my answer to your ma later.”
“Fair enough,” he said with a smirk.
“Are you scared? You know, about tonight?”
I took a deep breath then leant back against the wall and let it all out.
“I’m not scared of who I’m fighting, and I’m not scared of losing, and I’m sure as hell not afraid of getting hit. Am I nervous? Sure. My girl’s gonna be there, and I’d prefer not to make an arse outta meself and get knocked down on live TV. But no, I’m not scared. I’m taking everything I need into that ring with me, and I’ll be walking right back out with it as well. Title or no title, that ain’t gonna change.”
“Maybe I need a girl too,” he said, making me laugh.
“Just focus on finding some solid mates, ones who’ll always look out for you before they look out for themselves. If you’re lucky, the girl will find you.” I ruffled his hair. “Now bugger off,” I said jovially. “Your ma’s probably outside waiting for you.”
“Good luck.” He grabbed his drink bottle and ran out the door. When I was a kid, you had to be sixteen to fight here. Now, from the age of ten you could box at Driscoll’s on Saturdays. Maybe Danny had seen how it had turned mine and Con’s lives around. Or maybe he was getting soft in his old age. Whatever it was, his change of heart was a good thing. Kids enjoy sports for the love of the game. It was adults who took something pure and beautiful and twisted it into something commercial. Having them around taught us a lesson it was good to remember.
When the place emptied, I spent a couple of hours with Con in the office, running over and over footage of my opponent’s fights. I’d seen it all before, but running through it again kept me sharp. He was a big fucker. If I let him get too close because I was slow on my feet, I was gonna be in a world of hurt. My foot work needed to be instinctive.
“Do you think I can beat him?” I asked Con.
He scoffed and went back to fast-forwarding the tape. After a few seconds, he turned to see me watching him.
“I’m sorry, were you waiting for an answer to the stupidest fuckin’ question I’ve ever heard?” he asked sarcastically. “I don’t think you can win. I know you can win. You know why?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “Because I can beat him, and I know you can beat me. Some of the time. Very occasionally, when I’m having an off day,” he added, making me roll my eyes. “But none of it counts if you don’t know it too,” he added. I nodded, knowing he was right.
“Enough with the fight tapes,” he said and, reaching across the desk, grabbed my iPod and chucked it to me. “Go and get in the zone.”
Patting him on the back in thanks, I walked out and found a bench to sit on at the far side of the gym. Sticking in my earbuds, I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing, letting the music wash over me. The smell of hard work and victory that was unique to this place permeated my nostrils and grounded me in the present. With every beat of the song, I saw the bout play over in my head. I saw how I was going to step, how he was going to punch, and how I would react. A few hours later, I saw him go down and I opened my eyes. It was time.
Chapter Eighteen
Marie
I’D NEVER SEEN anything like the media circus that was a professional boxing match. Heath was flat-out networking with television networks and potential new sponsors, so Kier had Tommy pick Em and me up for the fight.
“Do I look okay?” I asked her nervously as I smoothed down the front of my emerald green wrap dress.
“You look beautiful,” she assured me.
There was nobody in this room right now who knew how I was feeling better than she did. I didn’t even have to ask her to come over and get ready with me. She knew I needed her, and she was there. I cursed the stupid medication that wouldn’t let me have a shot of something for my nerves though. Lord knew I could have done with it.
A huge queue of people was patiently filtering their way into the arena when we arrived, but we were taken around the back. I expected the hallways around the locker rooms to be empty, but the place was packed. Tommy explained that they were a mixed bag of reporters, promoters, and staff. Lots of them were hoping to get a quick interview with the guys, but I doubted that either camp would allow that this close to the fight.
“I don’t even know who he’s fighting,” I said to them both.
“Konstantin Schmidt,” Tommy replied. “He’s an up and comer like K
ieran. His old man was a heavyweight boxing champion, and his kid brother is working his way through the light heavyweight rankings. Schmidt has a bit of a chip on his shoulder though. His old man set up the fight, and Schmidt doesn’t think our Kier’s a worthy opponent. He’s pissed off at Kier trading on Con’s name.”
“I just assumed that Kieran had lots of fights before that put him in contention,” I said.
“It works differently for different fighters. Con worked his way up the ranks. He could have tried trading on Danny’s old title, but that was so long ago I don’t think it would have worked. A lot of this is about the connections you have and how good a match you’d be for the other fighter. If you haven’t got a lot of experience under your belt, it can make the fights harder to put together and promote, because people aren’t going to buy tickets for a shit fight. Lots of people will come because Con’s camp is promoting it, but your boy is about to become an international heavyweight fighter in his own right. It’s up to Schmidt how he wants to come to terms with that,” Tommy said, shrugging indifferently.
“He sure has a lot of support here,” Em said worriedly.
“So does Kier,” Tommy replied. “Trust me, support for both of them is a good thing. If this thing plays out like I think it’s going to, your boy’s going to be offered big things after this. It’s gonna be a hell of a show.”
He pushed open the changing room door, and I let out the breath I didn’t even know I was holding. Kieran was sitting with Con knelt on the floor in front of him, taping up his knuckles. They both looked up at our entrance, and Kier’s face lit up with a smile.
“Hey, love. How’s our boy doing?” Em said to Con as she placed her hands on his shoulders and leant down to kiss him.
“He’s good, Sunshine. His eye’s on the prize,” Con replied.
The Storm Page 15
