by Meghan March
“Keep them here unless you want me to lose it and fuck you on the floor on your hands and knees, ladybug. I ain’t got much control tonight.”
Her fingers flex under mine, where they’re pinned, and I glance up at her face. Those gray eyes burn with hunger now.
“What if I want that? Should I do this?” She yanks her hands out from beneath my palms, and faster than I know what she’s going to do, she grabs my head and presses my mouth straight against her clit while she rides my face.
Holy fucking hell. My dick almost hurts with how hard it throbs, begging to be free.
Instead of jerking back immediately, I give her what she wants. I eat her cunt like it’s my last meal, grinding into her until her fingers tense and her scream breaks loose. I push a finger inside her just in time to feel her inner muscles flutter hard from her orgasm.
When I pull back, we’re both gasping for breath, and I’m ready to fuck.
“You asked for it.”
Her eyes widen as I pull her off the counter, stripping her of her shirt and pulling her messy bun into waves around her shoulders. She doesn’t miss a beat, going for my zipper and tearing it down, like it’s the one thing standing between her and salvation.
As soon as my dick is in her hand, she squeezes, and I grit my teeth against the massive wave of pleasure.
“I’m not coming in your hand, baby.” She starts to speak, but I shake my head. “Not your mouth either. I want my pussy, and I want it now.”
Standing naked in her kitchen, Scarlett’s lips curl into a siren’s smile. One that I’d follow all the way to hell, if that’s where she wanted to lead me. “Then what are you waiting for?”
My control snaps, and I reach for her, spinning her around so that her back is to my front, before lowering her to her knees on the floor. I set new records with how fast I move, covering her with my body, nudging her knees apart, and sliding my cock between her legs.
The slickness practically drips onto my dick, and I’ve never been so fucking desperate to get inside her before.
This is primal.
Animal.
Raw.
And it feels so fucking right.
Forty
Scarlett
I reach between my legs and guide Gabriel’s cock to my opening. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I may be on my knees, but I’ve never felt this bold and powerful before. I wanted him inside me five minutes ago, but now I might die if I don’t have him right this second.
“Please, I need . . .”
With a single thrust, he powers inside me, and I inhale sharply as my body stretches to accommodate him. Gabriel leans down and drags his teeth across the skin where my shoulder meets my neck, and growls.
Holy. Shit. I clamp down hard, because I think I might already be ready to come.
“Oh God,” I whisper.
Gabriel’s dark chuckle echoes in my ear before he pulls back and thrusts inside again and again, pausing only to find my clit with his fingers, and then I lose it. The orgasms come so hard and so fast that I can’t separate one from another. I scream words that make no sense, because I couldn’t think if I wanted to.
I lose my grip on time. Space. Reality. Everything. All that exists is the pleasure shattering me.
And when my arms go limp and I drop to brace myself on my forearms, Gabriel roars my name and his cock pulses inside me.
For the space of three heartbeats, neither of us move, speak, or even breathe.
My forehead drops to the floor, and I haul in a breath of air. With a shaky voice, I whisper, “I thought once we got used to each other . . . sex would start to feel the same.”
Against my back, I can feel Gabriel’s entire body shaking with what I assume is laughter. He shifts, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.
“Never with you. It’s always a battle not to come. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life, Scarlett. And just know, anytime you want it like this, all you gotta do is grab my head and shove it in your pussy. That can be our signal.”
And that’s how I found myself belly laughing, naked, on my kitchen floor, happier than I’ve ever been.
“That’s how I unleash the beast? Very subtle,” I say as Gabriel reaches for a kitchen towel hanging from the stove handle.
“Yeah. That’s how you unleash the beast,” he says to me with a massive smile on his face. “You planning on doing that again anytime soon?”
I school my features into what I hope is a serious expression. “Every chance I get.”
He tackles me, and round two is just as good. Maybe even better.
When we finally get out of the shower, both wrapped in our robes—because I bought a big fluffy one for Gabriel with a G embroidered on the breast, and he seemed pretty appreciative from the breath-stealing kiss I received in exchange—we walk back into the kitchen.
I stare at the spot on the floor, in front of the stove where we just went at it like sex-crazed animals. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to think about my kitchen the same way again.”
Gabriel laughs when he sees where I’m looking. “I’ll probably never be able to eat in here without a hard-on, but I ain’t complaining. You hungry? I’m cooking.”
“We can order takeout if you want.”
He shakes his head. “Can’t until after the fight. I need to get some protein down, especially after that cardio. You want me to finally teach you how to make those fluffy scrambled eggs you liked so much from Gabe’s Diner?”
His mention of the menu from when I was healing after my surgery fills me with warmth. “I would love to learn how to make those fluffy scrambled eggs from Gabe’s Diner.”
Forty-One
Scarlett
When I wake up Tuesday morning of what I’ve dubbed fight week in my brain, Gabe is already gone. I reach out to touch the sheets, but I know they’ll be cold. He’s been training like a man possessed, and I suppose that’s exactly what he is.
I’ve never seen a man more determined to win at anything in my life. I’m in awe of Gabriel’s dedication, especially because he’s still made as much time for me as he can, even though I’ve told him repeatedly that when this is over, we’ll have plenty of time for each other again.
I smile, remembering that Christine is flying in today from LA to spend time with Ryan, his family, and all the friends she left behind in the city when she headed west with her father upon his retirement. Plus, both Ryan and Christine are coming to the fight.
They shocked the hell out of me when they told me they’d secured tickets. “Did you think we wouldn’t do whatever it took to be there? We know how important this is for you both.”
Warmth filled me at their support. I may not have family who will do anything for me, but my friends are the best a girl could ask for. Harlow, Monroe, and their husbands will be coming, and so will Kelsey and her brother Jon. Flynn is the only one who won’t be there, because all eyes will be on the club, and it’s too well known that she’s underage. Additionally, with the bit of trouble she found for herself, she’s laying kind of low for good reason until it’s all settled.
Legend will be closing after tomorrow night, and the club will remain closed until the doors open on Saturday to let in all the eager fight-goers.
I’m excited about the fight, because Gabriel has worked his ass off, but I’m also terrified. I’ve never had to see the man I love get punched in the face with no pads to block the blows. There’s a good chance I’m going to be watching the whole thing through my fingers, like a little kid sitting through her first horror movie.
Hopefully not, though. I can be strong for Gabriel.
But Bodhi Black is out for blood, especially since it sounds like he doesn’t believe Gabriel wasn’t behind the failed attack to take out his knee. No one has heard from Rolo either, which makes him look even more guilty than the vague suspicions Gabriel had before.
Even more than Bodhi Black, I’m worried about Moses Buford Gaspard. Gabriel said
the mob is covering him and not to worry, but that’s easier said than done.
Why can’t he just disappear and never come back? I think as I roll out of bed and slip on the robe I tossed on the chair last night. That would make life so much easier and less stressful.
A knock comes on my interior front door, and I glance at the clock. Amy shouldn’t be here for another forty minutes, so I pad toward it and peek through the peephole.
“Christine!” I unlock the door and yank it open before flinging myself at her in a hug.
“Oh God. Really? It’s too fucking early for this bullshit, Scar. Get it together,” she says, all the while laughing.
I pull back to stare at the freckles dotting her creamy complexion. “I swear to God, you’re the only person I know who hates being hugged this much. And how the hell have you managed not to get any sun at all living in LA? You still look like a New Yorker in the dead of winter.”
Christine rolls her eyes as I shut the door behind her. “Yeah, you look great too. Like you’ve been getting laid on the regular. It makes you glow and shit. Wait, are you pregnant?”
“No,” I say with a shake of my head. “Definitely not. But, hopefully, that won’t be too far off in the distant future.”
Her expression morphs into shock laced with horror. “Not you too. Really? You’re gonna do the rug-rat thing already? God, I’m going to have to buy baby presents and shit, and you know how much I hate that. Ryan’s already put me through that special kind of hell twice, and I really hoped that was all the torture I’d have to go through in this life.”
“I’ve missed you, Chris. It’s really good to see you. And hug you, even though you hate it.”
She shivers, as if the human contact has truly grossed her out, sending her brown curls bouncing. I know better and ignore her, leading the way into the kitchen—careful to avoid those spots Gabriel and I have christened—and she follows.
“You know I love you, Scar. I’ve missed you too. And damn, I’ve missed this city. Why did I move to LA again? I must’ve been crazy.”
“You know you’d never let your dad that far out of your sight to move back, so you’d better learn to love the concrete jungle.”
“The things we do for family,” she grumbles. “Speaking of which, how is Daddy Dearest? Have you talked to him lately?”
I shake my head. “Don’t know. Don’t care. Don’t have any plans to speak to him anytime soon either.”
She lifts her chin. “I don’t blame you. If he called me, I wouldn’t even bother to listen to the voice mail, after I hit the fuck-you button on him.”
“I thought you weren’t getting in until later?” I ask, changing the subject.
“I took a red-eye. I wanted to see how you’re really doing. I know you told Ryan and me to stay the hell out of your personal business, but I needed to know that you’re good. Clearly, I had nothing to worry about, because you look better than ever.”
A wide smile stretches my lips. “Thank you. I’m happy. I mean, nervous as hell about this fight, but that’s to be expected. You want a double espresso?”
“Please. My blood-caffeine level is dangerously low.”
I grab two demitasse cups and set up the espresso machine to begin brewing. As the scent of coffee fills the air, Christine sits at my kitchen table.
“Is Legend going to win the fight?”
I lean back against the countertop and nod. “Yeah. He will. There’s no other choice.”
One of her reddish-brown eyebrows rises. “And if he doesn’t? You two going to be okay?”
“Of course. We’ll be fine, no matter what.”
“And the club?”
My gaze drops to the floor, and I bite my lip. “It should be fine.”
“Should be?”
I make an executive decision, swear her to secrecy, and then fill her in on Moses. By the time I’m finished, her mouth is wide open like a manhole without a cover.
“Jesus, Scarlett. You’ve kept this all from us this whole damn time? We could’ve found ways to get him money that he wouldn’t know had come from you. We could’ve had Legend make a windfall on some business deal. This could’ve all been taken care of the day after that asshole showed up.”
In my heart of hearts, I know she’s wrong. Moses won’t take money the easy way. He wants Gabe to suffer for it, and that makes me hate the monster even more.
“It doesn’t matter now. He’s under control by the mob, apparently, and he won’t be making an appearance.”
“This is some real Godfather shit, you know?” she says.
“Tell me about it.”
When our espressos are ready, I slide one cup and saucer in front of her and take the opposite chair. She lifts her cup to her lips with a murmur of appreciation.
“This is amazing. So much better than that shit on the plane.” After she sips, she sets it down in front of her. “So, tell me what I can do to help. I’m here for you, even if Ryan thinks I’m here to see his kids. We both know the truth.”
Her distinct dislike for children makes me chuckle, but I don’t have any answers for her. “Go see your niece and nephew. Everything is under control here, and there’s really not much to do.”
“Are you sure?”
“I mean . . . you could go take a walk through the store and buy a few things. You know, just to help a client and friend out.”
Her eyebrow lifts as her head tilts to the side. “Are you forgetting I spent a grand on shipping last time I was here? I think about it every time I walk through my house, because it’s full of your stuff.”
“Perfect. Time for an update,” I say with a smile.
Forty-Two
Legend
The soles of my shoes hit the pavement one rhythmic stride at a time. I turn the corner leading back to the gym, where my training is slowing down so my body is rested but prepared for Saturday night.
Jeb drives behind me slowly in his silent fucking Prius that always makes me laugh, and I almost miss a step when I see a tall man in a dark suit getting out of a Rolls Royce SUV in front of the gym.
I’d recognize him anywhere.
Creighton Karas.
“Everything good?” Jeb calls from the open window.
That’s how attuned he is to me physically. I swear, my heart couldn’t have an irregular beat without Jeb picking up on it. His coaching has been so different from Johnson’s that there’s no way in hell I ever could have had a chance at winning if I’d been training the way I used to. I’m a whole new fighter now, and I’m more confident than ever.
“A friend is waiting out front of the gym.”
Jeb looks ahead. “Looks rich. Those are the best friends to have.”
Karas turns to face me as I slip between two parked cars to take my last few steps on the sidewalk. When I reach him, I bend over, resting my hands on my thighs, and drag in some deep breaths.
“You’re really giving it your all, aren’t you?”
I glance up from under the sweaty hair falling over my forehead. “You expected me to just be fucking around with this?” I stand up straight and scrape the damp strands back.
His gaze zeroes in on my face. “If I thought you were just fucking around, I wouldn’t have a briefcase of cash sitting in my back seat.” Karas glances up and down the street. “You want it here? Because if you get jumped and someone takes it, I’ll own you for the rest of your life.”
My head swivels toward the back seat instinctually. “How much fucking money did you bring?”
The low chuckle steals my attention back. “Enough so that if you win, you’ll be able to pay me back, pay off all the investors, and then some. Enough to set you free.”
I blink, replaying what I think I just heard through my brain. “Why?” It comes out quieter than I planned.
Karas studies me. “I see something in you that reminds me of me. Given the right opportunities, you could become a player in this town, Legend.”
I blink slowly and shake off the sw
eat running down my face, pretending I’m not shocked by Karas’s words. He’s a fucking billionaire, for Christ’s sake. I’m a kid from a shit-ass trailer park in Biloxi, Mississippi.
That thought fades as he continues.
“Saturday could be the first day of your new life. If you don’t lose, that is.”
I reply instantly. “I’m not going to lose. I got too much on the line, regardless of what’s in the bag. You want insurance I’m going to win, know that I’m faster, smarter, and a hell of a lot more determined than Bodhi Black ever was, is, or will be.”
I motion to Jeb. “And thanks to Bohannon, I’ve had the best fucking coaching staff in the city. I’m ready. I’ve lived this moment of victory a thousand times in the last month. Saturday, I make it a reality.”
Karas’s face smooths out, and one corner of his mouth rises. Approval glints in his eyes. “I believe you. I suppose Bohannon does too.” He turns to Jeb. “We’ll bring Legend back in thirty minutes. Keep up the good work, Coach.”
Then he gestures to the open back door of the Rolls. “Get in.”
Normally, I’d sputter about being told what to do, but let’s be honest. I’m about to ride in a fucking Rolls Royce for the first time in my life, and this dude is practically handing me a new lease on life.
I guess faith does just show up sometimes.
“Appreciate the lift,” I say with all the nonchalance I can muster and slide inside.
Jesus, even the leather feels like it’s too expensive to touch my sweat-soaked pants. The aroma in the air is better than anything I’ve smelled—except for Scarlett. And, holy fuck, there’s a big-ass silver hard-sided briefcase in the center that I have to lift myself over to settle in the seat.
Karas gets in and straightens his suit coat before looking at me. “I’m not an idiot, and I’m not risking you fighting for your life on the sidewalk over some cash.”
