Pink: Hot 'n Sexy for a cure: The Books for Boobies 2015 Anthology

by Tara Oakes

  Her sultry voice sent a shock of need bolting through Jami’s chest and straight down to his crotch. Instantly, he swelled for her, his pants constricting almost painfully against his hardened cock. Groaning, Jami seized the back of Ally’s head, fisting the long, thick mane of hair in his ruined fist and yanked her to him. Their mouths sealed in a furious kiss, their breaths sawing in and out of their lungs, as they feasted on each other.

  That fast, Ally had taken his mind off his troubles, easing his frayed nerves and silencing the voice inside his head that filled him with doubts.

  As always, she’d managed to tame the beast inside him.

  Wordlessly, Jami stood, lifting his wife in his arms. The feel of her legs as they wrapped around his waist and she held on tight to him, their kiss unbroken, as if she trusted him implicitly, made him feel powerful. Even though he’d never step back into the ring to fight, she clung to him like a safety net.

  In long strides, Jami carried Ally back into the heart of the gym, across the open floor, past all the equipment, to the very ring that shaped him into the man he was today.

  Lowering Ally to her feet, Jami held her delicate face between his hands and kissed her deeply once more before pulling away.

  “Climb up, baby,” he rasped, more than eager to get her naked and under him. They hadn’t been together—alone—as a couple for two solid months, and even though that was mostly his fault, Jami was a man who needed regular physical contact. He was a very sexual person, and now that Ally’s doctor had cleared her for take off, it was time to reconnect.

  Releasing a shuddering breath, Ally adopted a shy smile, drawing her bottom lip between her even, white teeth. The glimmer of heat in her gorgeous eyes told him she knew exactly what he had planned. And damned if that look didn’t make him harder than granite.

  Grasping the back of her head, Jami swooped in for another quick kiss then, with a swift swat on her firm ass, he pushed her away from him.

  “After you, sexy momma.”

  Memories of the last time they were alone in this ring together came rushing to the surface as Jami watched his wife cross the ropes. Even though she had her back to him, he knew her well enough to know that her face was a ripe shade of scarlet. Not more than a few steps in front of her, he could recall with near perfect clarity the night he’d made love to her for the first time on that very stretch of canvas. In fact, they’d had a few firsts in this ring, including when he’d asked her to marry him, and when she’d told him she was pregnant with their first child.

  The ring meant a lot to him. Far more than a source of income, it held a place of honor in his heart. Every single important thing that’d ever happened in Jami’s life happened behind the ropes.

  Lust suffused every cell of his body as Jami grabbed hold of the heavy nylon-covered rope and heaved himself up onto the platform. Stalking across the canvas Jami pressed his chest to Ally’s back, his hands gripped her hips, and he dipped his head, burying his face in her long, mahogany locks. He inhaled deeply as the scent of soft juniper teased his senses, calling to mind their years of joined history and bringing into focus all the time they’d lost over the past few weeks.

  Never again. From this moment forward, he promised himself he’d be present for the two most important people in his life.

  Leaning back into his chest, Ally turned her face up, tossing him a coy smile. “Do you remember the last time we were in here like this together, alone?” she asked softly.

  As his hands made a slow trek over her ribcage to cup her generous breasts, Jami’s lips twitched. “Oh, yeah. I remember.”

  His gruff tone caused a furious blush to rise into Ally’s cheeks. Lowering her face, he watched as she rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, causing his blood to heat and his pulse to race. Fuck, that mouth drove him all kinds of crazy.

  Unable to resist, Jami captured her lush mouth with his and plunged his tongue inside. As their kiss grew more fervent, he released one breast and coasted his palm down her stomach. When he reached the sliver of skin just below her belly button that was exposed by her arching back, he pushed beneath the stretchy fabric of her pants. His fingers found her needy core, wet and plump with desire.

  With care, he delved into her slick folds, tracing delicate circles around her clit, massaging her opening until her body trembled for more.

  “Jami,” she moaned into his mouth. Ally’s hips pushed out, her chest heaving beneath his hand, as she sought the pleasure he would give her. “Please, Jami. Please,” she begged, her voice a breathy plea that conjured images of her spread out on their marital bed, her body on full display.

  His cock grew unbearably hard, pressing against the crease of her buttocks through his loose fitting gym shorts. Their bodies were fit together so tight, he could feel the heat of her core burning him.

  With a guttural growl, Jami thrust his other hand down her pants and shoved them down to her ankles. Ally gasped at the abrupt change, and she rocked unsteadily on her feet. Rising up fast, Jami steadied her with one hand on her hip, the other firmly planted on her shoulder.

  Lowering his mouth to her ear, his voice came out gravelly. “Down on your hands and knees, Ally baby. Your husband is dying to get inside you.”

  Her eyes widened, though not with fear, as she complied. For a brief moment, all Jami could do was stand there and stare. Ally on all fours, her round ass up in the air, stole his breath and damn near stopped his heart.

  “Damn, baby. You’re fuckin’ beautiful like this,” he said as he dropped his shorts and got down on his knees behind her. His cock stood straight out from his hips, arrowing at the sweet spot between her creamy thighs.

  Stroking himself, Jami teased her tight hole with the tip, spreading her moisture, entering and retreating, stretching her little by little to accommodate him.

  When Ally’s hips rocked back to meet him and she elicited a sound off frustration, Jami didn’t waste time asking if she was ready. With a single, steady stroke, he slipped inside her tight sheath, groaning loud as his head fell back on his shoulders at how amazing she felt hugging him.

  It’d been so long. Too damn long since he’d been inside his woman. No way was he going to last long. Not with her clamping down on him like a vice.

  Tightening his fingers around her hips, he started up a relentless pace that filled the gym with erotic sounds. As their bodies collided, Jami felt the subtle changes in Ally’s body—muscles tightening, choppy breaths, her skin taking on a light sheen of sweat as her moans grew increasingly longer.

  Witnessing her arousal piquing, Jami felt a tingle of awareness erupt at the base of his spine at the same time his balls drew up tight. His excitement ratcheted higher with the knowledge that they would, for the first time in a long time, come together.

  Fusing his chest to her back and reaching between her silken thighs, he fingered her clit in hard, persistent circles. Moments later, Ally dropped her chin to her chest and released a keening wail that caused him to fall over the edge right along with her.

  He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when he finally managed to open his eyes, he was laying on his side, Ally curled up against him. Their limbs tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat, Jami found himself smiling because he couldn’t imagine a more perfect moment.

  Being here, in this place, with this woman…it felt as if he’d won the lottery on life. From a boy who had nothing to a man who had the world at his fingertips, it was a true gift.

  And he’d almost squandered it.

  Nuzzling Ally’s neck, Jami placed a tender kiss just below her ear, chuckling when she murmured something unintelligible. “Time to get dressed, baby,” he spoke softly into her ear.

  “Do we have to?” she whimpered as he took her hands and helped her back to her feet.

  “Don has a ten o’clock bedtime, and he sleeps like the dead,” Jami reminded her as he helped her back into her clothes. “I want to make sure we’re there if Junior wakes up, just in case. Plus,”
he added as he pulled his shorts on. “I want to hold my boy.”

  Ally’s eyes misted over as she walked into his arms and pressed her soft lips to the underside of his chin. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too, baby.”

  On the way out, Jami reached for the lights, taking a moment to look around and realized that Ally was right—the gym would still be there waiting for him in the morning. Cutting the lights, he took Ally’s outstretched hand.

  In minutes, they were unlocking the door to their home. Ally was the first to freeze, and when Jami glanced up, a flash of fear causing his stomach to drop, he saw what had caused her to stop mid step.

  There, on the couch, lay the man he thought of as his father. On his back, Don was stretched out, his salt and pepper hair mussed, his mouth hanging open as he snored softly. And on his chest was the tiny person who stole every breath Jami ever took since the moment he laid eyes on his chubby, cherub face.

  Approaching the sleeping duo, Jami’s heart tripped over itself, and his chest grew tighter with each step. He took in the little hands balled into fists, the rosy lips puckered in sleep as he made soft sucking sounds. Stole his heart every time.

  Carefully, Jami lifted his sleeping son from Don’t chest and nestled him against his own as Ally moved in to gently rouse Don and send him off to bed.

  With his heart in his throat, Jami looked to his wife and, with a subtle nod, she led the way to their room where they crawled into bed, their son curled up between them. When Ally’s hands stretched across the blankets and her fingers threaded through his, Jami looked up and met her loving gaze.

  No audible words passed between them. None needed to be said. They were a family now and this, together with his wife and son…this was exactly where he was supposed to be.

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  PRIZE FIGHT

  Aden Lowe

  Ryker stood heaving, catching his breath and sizing up his opponent again. If he didn't find a weakness soon, he was going to get his ass handed to him. The other fighter outweighed him by a good thirty pounds and had a longer reach. The guy's grin around his mouth-guard said he knew he had Ryker worried.

  Well, fuck that. Ryker had too much riding on this match to lose. He just had to find the right advantage and use it. A bright flash of movement outside the ring drew his attention for a split second, reminding him. He focused back on his opponent, replaying every move of the match so far.

  The damn girl on the other side of the wire wouldn't stop hopping back and forth, distracting him. Once more he dragged his attention back to the other guy. Suddenly, he saw it. The guy stayed on the front of his right foot. Always. Even when he should have been on his heel. He was doing a very good job at covering a weakness.

  Satisfied, Ryker concentrated on getting every molecule of oxygen into his bloodstream possible, and waiting for his opponent to come at him again. The guy thought he had the match won, and wanted to make it a big game of cat and mouse to finish up. Finally, the bastard came at Ryker again, head down and moving in for the kill.

  Ryker waited. Waited. Last second.

  And exploded to deliver a knee to the right ankle as he caught the guy and flipped him, hard, with an added bonus of using that foot for leverage and putting stress on the ankle.

  The guy landed on his shoulder with a grunt and Ryker didn't let up. Zeroing in on the right ankle, he hooked the foot for a minute to apply brutal pressure, then let the guy kick out. He followed with an axe kick as the spectators started getting excited.

  And in moments it was over and Ryker's arm was raised as the winner. His opponent had to be helped from the ring by his handlers. Ryker took his towel from Luke and stalked for the locker room. The girl, wearing a very bright red, curve-hugging dress and insanely high heels followed him. Now what the hell was he going to do about that part of the prize?

  He successfully delayed figuring it out for ten minutes while he got a shower and dressed again. Maybe she would just leave or whatever and he wouldn't have to deal with it. When Luke negotiated the prize package, Ryker really hadn't believed him about the girl. Ryker wanted the two grand, but he could get all the pussy he wanted without having to work for it. Luke finally convinced him though, and he signed on the line for the match.

  He grabbed his stuff from the locker, shrugged into his Hell Raiders cut, and headed out, ready to get on with his evening.

  "Uh, hey, what should I do?" The girl tottered up beside him on the ridiculous heels.

  He stopped long enough to take a good look at her. The fancy clothes didn't suit her, like he cared. She had the kind of curves that should be covered only by a bikini and some sexy ink. If he had time to play, she'd look great on the back of his Harley. Or on his cock.

  He shrugged. "Do whatever you want. I don't care." Shaking his head, Ryker shouldered through the door and out into the alley.

  "Wait!" Her shoes clacked after him. "You won the night with me. So, uh…what do you want?"

  He stopped and sighed, then turned to face her. "I know I won the night with you. I don't want it. So do whatever you want. To someone else."

  Her face crumpled for an instant before she blinked and visibly pushed her hurt feelings aside. "I can't do that. Wherever you go tonight, I'm going."

  What the hell? "Whatever. Doubt you'll like it much." He walked on toward the parking lot. Most of the spectators should still be inside but he still paused at the corner to make sure no one was near his bike.

  The woman followed, heels clicking along on the pavement, but he refused to shorten his stride to accommodate her. If she insisted on going along, she'd better keep the fuck up. He reached his bike and started to stow his gear in his saddlebag when she caught up.

  "How am I supposed to go with you on that thing?"

  He shrugged. "Not my problem."

  One foot stamped in annoyance. "You're just about the rudest jerk on the planet."

  "Rude? Me?" He paused to look up. "No, baby girl, I'm not rude. I'm saving you from yourself." Maybe that would get her to just leave him the hell alone.

  "You are rude. If I don't go with you, Royse will add to my debt and it'll take two nights to repay him for this one."

  He buckled the saddlebag and her words hit him in a delayed reaction. "Wait. What?"

  She sighed. "I owe Royse money. If I don't want my mother living on the street with me, I have to pay him. He sets up the gig, I do it. But if I don't go through with one, I owe him two." A note of resignation crept into her voice. "Look, I get it. You're gay or whatever. Just let me tag along. I won't bother you. And in the morning when I call for pickup, you tell them I was great. Or even just grunt. I'll be a day closer to paying him off."

  Ryker swallowed hard. The anger stayed put. "What?" He listened patiently while she explained in more detail. By the time she finished, the anger had multiplied. Everybody in town knew Royse as the go-to man for anything on the shady side, so little could be done about him taking advantage of women who would otherwise be homeless. He nodded and swung onto his bike. "Get on."

  Blank confusion settled over her face for a full minute before she bent to pull her shoes off. The dress presented a bit more trouble, but she finally settled for pulling the hem up around her hips. After a good bit of wriggling, she got the rest of it high enough to let her swing her leg over his fender.

  Ryker had to admit, she put on a pretty nice little show. One he could certainly appreciate. When she settled onto the seat behind him, he ran his right hand down her calf to grasp her ankle and guide her foot to the peg, then did the same on the left. Her warmth surrounded him as she leaned in and tried to hold onto her shoes and hold on to his waist at the same time. He eased them out of the parking lot and let the bike roar down the street.

  At least he had the apartment to take her to. The Hell Raiders
would have just a little too much fun at his expense if he brought his winnings back to the club house. Besides, those sweet curves pressed up tight against his back made him doubt if he'd want to share this particular prize.

  He parked the bike in his usual spot, helped her off and led her to his apartment. When he flipped the lights on, she stared with her mouth wide open. Whatever she might have expected of his home, apparently this was not it. She noticed the kitchen and gave it a closer look, her stomach rumbling loudly.

  He dropped his keys onto the table just inside the door. "My name's Ryker, by the way. You hungry?"

  "Elena. And yeah, if it's not too much trouble."

  "No trouble. The bathroom's through there, if you want to freshen up while I fix something." He turned to the kitchen without another word, leaving her to fend for herself.

  The Hell Raiders cut went to its customary place on a hook by the door and his shirt landed just inside the bedroom. Dinner sat a little higher on his list of priorities than a clean house at the moment. The gas range heated quickly and the steaks sizzled when he tossed them on. With potatoes in the microwave, he turned to putting together a small salad.

  Elena dropped her ridiculous shoes by the door and alerted him to her presence. "Anything I can do to help?"

  He turned to flash her a quick smile over his shoulder in his best attempt at being somewhat friendly and non-threatening. "How do you like your steak? And if you could grab plates and stuff, that'd be cool."

  Blank confusion settled over her face for a minute. "Uh, I'm not picky."

  "Medium okay then, just a little pink?"

  "Yeah, that sounds good." She opened the cabinet he indicated and found plates for them, and silverware from the drawer.

  "There's beer in the fridge, or there's water if you'd rather."

  She brought two bottles to the table while he put their steaks on the plates, and added a mound of onions and mushrooms to each. Huge baked potatoes followed before he crossed to the fridge and returned with butter and two small bowls of salad. She seemed utterly amazed with the food, or maybe that look meant it wasn't good enough for her.