The Sport of Romance: A Multi-Author Box Set

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The Sport of Romance: A Multi-Author Box Set Page 47

by Cari Quinn


  Unless she was unhappier than she was letting on…

  I searched for my voice. “I’m only fighting to get enough money for us to move away to a better place. This is just temporary.”

  “Right, you’ll bring her with you so she can experience your gypsy lifestyle. Living in cockroach-infested apartments with men coming in and out, day and night.”

  I had no idea what she was talking about, but I was afraid to ask.

  “That girl needs to be in school here at home. Do you want her to end up like you?”

  “No. Of course not.” Anything but that.

  “Then do the right thing and send her back to me. Don’t take her down with you.”

  My eyes prickled so I shut them. “I’ll always do what’s necessary to keep her safe.”

  No matter the cost.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Tray

  “Okay, now open your eyes.”

  Mia opened them and slowly glanced around my living room. Firelight flickered over her surprised features. “What is this?”

  “This is called camping indoors.” I lifted the red child’s bucket I’d purchased and scooped it through the sand I’d thrown all over the floor in front of the mantel. A big log bordered one side of the fake beach and beside that, a bag of marshmallows and a pile of sticks. “It’s too cold to go on a real trip, so I brought the beach and roasted marshmallows to you.”

  She covered her mouth and mumbled something.

  “You hate it,” I said after a moment. “You never really wanted to camp. You’re afraid you’ll get sand up your ass. But don’t worry, that’s why I have this.” I shook out the plaid blanket folded up on the coffee table and placed it over the lumpy sand. It wasn’t exactly as idyllic as I’d imagined it would be, but I hadn’t lit the tiki torches yet.

  “It’s…”

  “Wait. Let me add the mood lighting and scents.” I flicked the lighter and set the pseudo torches and a candle blazing, then grabbed the beach room spray I’d also gotten at the dollar store. Three spritzes later I was on the verge of a sneezing fit, but at least she was smiling.

  I’d do anything to make her smile. Even die a painful death thanks to my screaming sinuses.

  “Now it’s ready. Ta da.” I waved my arm. “What do you think?”

  “You put all this together?” she asked shakily.

  “Unless you hate it, then no. It was all Slater’s idea.”

  She laughed and knelt to scoop up sand. “Do you blame him for everything?”

  “Only things like romantic gestures and gifts for women. Otherwise, I’m completely manly and accept blame as it comes.”

  Sifting sand into the bucket, she gave me a smile and ducked her head, letting her curtain of dark hair hide her face.

  “Vey’s at my parents’ for the weekend since I’m having surgery, so we don’t have to worry about him eating sand. He tends to put everything new in his mouth.”

  “Oh. Good.” I waited for her to say more, but apparently that was the sum of her thoughts.

  “Don’t be so effusive. Really, I don’t need praise. The glow from a job well done is praise enough.” I crouched in front of her. “Lame? Not lame? Give me a frickin’ bone here, Anderson.”

  “It’s amazing. I can’t believe you did all this for me. Just so we can have sex.” A muscle ticked along her jaw. “I’m a sure thing, you know.”

  “Ha.” A dry laugh croaked from my throat. “No, you aren’t. You’re so far from sure that I spend my time on ground like this sand, trying to keep my balance.”

  She continued filling the bucket slowly and methodically before dumping it out. “Why? What makes me worth it?”

  Every time she made me answer that question, I worried I’d get it wrong. I couldn’t tell her the simple truth. She was everything. My everything.

  She’d never understand.

  “You’re the strongest, bravest person I’ve ever known.” Her silence prodded me to dig beyond the nerves. She was the only woman who made me constantly fear rejection. The only one I’d risk it for. “I was jaded and bored before you walked into my life. You challenged me. You woke me up.” Exhaling, I pulled off my stupid eye patch. After this weekend I wouldn’t have to wear it anymore. “I suck at this. I’m no fucking poet.”

  “You’re doing fine. Better than I am.” She grasped a handful of sand, letting it trail from her fist. It seemed to fascinate her. “You make me want to be normal. To try.”

  “I want you just as you are.”

  “You say you do, but you don’t know what—”

  “Mia.” I covered her hands with mine, closing my fingers so the sand squeezed between them. As much as I’d tried to tamp down on the physical side of our relationship over the past two weeks, I’d never be able to share how I felt otherwise. “Let me show you.”

  She rose on her knees and slid her arm around my neck. With her other hand, she traced the skin underneath my injured eye, her touch more soothing than the salve she’d rubbed on my chest when I’d been sick.

  “You shouldn’t strain yourself,” she murmured, a hint of a tease in her tone.

  I loved that she felt comfortable enough to taunt me now. I treasured those moments almost as much as her smiles and laughter. “Don’t worry ’bout me, baby.”

  “You’ve got a big couple of days ahead of you, and so do I,” she continued as if I’d never spoken.

  “Uh-huh.” I wound her hair around my knuckles, using it to tip back her head so I could suck on her lower lip. “So I should make sure you don’t come, right? Okay, if you insist.”

  She let out a baffled laugh. “What?”

  “You know, how you aren’t supposed to bust a nut before a fight. Holding on to that tension is supposed to be beneficial.” I sucked her lip harder, earning a moan. “Though I know it’s a lie, because you had me fucking hard for a week before mine, and I still lost.”

  She frowned. “I don’t think that rule applies to women. Since we lack nuts and all.”

  “Ah, good to hear. Since I intend to make you come until you’re limp.” I met her gaze. “It’s not showing up for the match that matters, but what you’re fighting for.” I caressed the long sweep of her hair, driven to keep touching her. Reassuring myself she was still here. Still in my arms. “Let me give you a good reason to come back to me.”

  She trembled. “You already have.”

  I reached behind my head to pull off my T-shirt. It went flying, landing on top of the log.

  Eyeing it suspiciously, she cocked her head. “Is that actually real?”

  Pretending to misunderstand, I patted my chest. “No pectoral implants here.”

  “I meant the log, smartass.”

  I took her hand and drew it to the front of my jeans, grinning at her groan. “It’s real. I swear.”

  “See how bad you are?” She gave me a playful kiss, easing back before I could really sink in. “I still owe you a punishment.”

  “And you don’t even know how bad I’ve been. You haven’t seen your gift yet.” I tugged up her shirt and yanked it over her head, inhaling sharply at what awaited me. The shadowy light blurred the details, but I was pretty dang sure she was wearing an animal print bra that matched her sexy-as-hell panties. “Oh man.”

  “Do you like it? It doesn’t say juicy, unfortunately.”

  “I’ll make do somehow.” I lowered my head and ran my tongue along the fringe of lace, dipping beneath to warm flesh. She cupped my head as I curled my tongue over her tight nipple. With one flick, she moaned. With two, she arched, offering more of her breast.

  I nudged her bra straps down and held them taut behind her back, enjoying the way the plump swells lifted right to my mouth. I nipped the soft skin, tongued my way between, and did the same to the other. “I fucking love your tits.” When she made a dismissive noise, I bit down in a way I knew would leave a mark. Something that bastard Costas could see above her tank top in the ring tomorrow. “When you ride me, these are gonna be in my
mouth. I’m going to suck them until you scream.”

  She wove her fingers through my hair, holding me in place while I licked and caressed. I pulled her onto my lap, undoing my pants with one hand. Fumbling with them because God, every time was like the first time with her and I couldn’t get past my eagerness long enough to do it right.

  I’d had moves with other women. For the most part, I’d felt like I had the game down. With Mia, the familiar steps didn’t apply. Every time she brought me back to square one, where my hands shook and my breath stumbled and I couldn’t get inside her fast enough.

  Her hand curved around my cock, and she squeezed me in her ridiculously strong grip. She rubbed her thumb over the crown, smearing the wetness that had escaped. She tightened her fingers until the torch light wavered and bled behind my closed eyes. I wasn’t consciously aware of begging for her mouth. Of demanding that one thing, over and over again.

  Only when her lips closed around my shaft did I realize what I’d asked for, and what it meant.

  I couldn’t drag her away. I couldn’t ask her to continue. Through it all, she pulled me deeper into the hot, wet recesses of her throat, the vibrations of her pleasure increasing mine. I should’ve been determined enough to change course, to flip her on her back and taste the sweetness between her thighs. But the sounds she uttered while taking me like this were so primitive and raw that I could barely resist the urge to shout.

  Mine. All mine.

  And now, maybe finally I was hers. We’d find our way through the dark together. Neither of us would be alone ever again.

  The pressure built inside me quickly. Too quickly. My hands threaded through the long ropes of her hair, using them to guide her and to anchor myself. I couldn’t catch my breath but even my gasps weren’t enough to drown out the drumbeat of my heart. It pulsed in my dick while she drew on me with an expertise that might’ve shut down my enjoyment if I’d still been capable of thought.

  All I could do was drop my head forward to savor the sensation of her tongue bathing me and her fingers exploring my balls. Tugging so gently that the heat rising inside me surged into a manic throb.

  When I reached my limit, I yanked her up and gripped her chin, slanting my mouth over hers in a desperate kiss. I had no skill left. I’d become all panting need. She met me stroke for stroke, moaning with a pained excitement that echoed mine.

  Too much. Not enough.

  Together we fought with her jeans, dragging them toward her knees. I fell backward on the blanket and pushed my hand between her damp thighs, groaning at her silky slickness. Still struggling with the denim, she climbed on top of me, stealing my air with the sight of her swollen red lips and taut pink nipples.

  I grasped my cock, on the verge of taking what I ached for—her sweet, snug pussy clasping me while we sought the sanctuary we only found in each other. And then she stopped me cold.

  “No. Condom.” Her deep, dark eyes beseeched me.

  For a second, I had no response. We’d done it without one once before, when I’d been too stupid and eager to remember. But at least I’d pulled out. This time I didn’t want to. I knew I had to, that some chances were too big to take. But I yearned to feel her against me, just skin. Just us.

  “I’ll pull out. Like before. I promise.” It was still a risk, but I wasn’t smart enough to grab that foil-wrapped piece of safety. My desire for her, for us, for everything I couldn’t grasp tight enough, was too great.

  But she shook her head, eyes brimming. “I’m on the Pill, but you heard me tonight. How can you trust that it’s safe…that I’m safe?”

  “You trust me, don’t you? I haven’t been a saint.”

  “It’s not even close to the same. You’ve never sold—”

  “Mia.” I couldn’t listen to any more. I’d go fucking insane. I cupped her cheek in a hand that shook. “I can’t not trust you. It’s all I know how to do.” I pressed kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. “You’re mine.”

  She let out a sound perilously close to a sob as she guided me inside her, taking me so deep that a harsh groan ripped from my throat. She’d never wanted to be on top before, and the angle stole my last bit of sanity. But she stayed still, holding me inside her, swallowing me with those depthless eyes. Telling me more than either of us had words to explain.

  “Ride me, baby,” I rasped, pinching her hips to goad her into motion. So ready to see her bouncing over me that I strained up, my body already poised to leap.

  She braced her palms on my stomach and lifted her hips, adding a swivel, a clench deep inside. Her knees dug into my waist as she started to ride, her beautiful body sheened with sweat in the candlelight. Sleek and agile, she blurred above me, her steady movements soon turning erratic and matching my equally wild thrusts. I was so close to losing it that I fisted my hand in her hair to slow her down, to slow me down, but it was useless.

  Without conscious thought, I lifted my hand, bringing it down hard on her ass. She stopped, her mouth falling open. Then she bowed back, seeking my hand again, meeting my next slap with a tormented moan that sounded like both release and agony. I did the same to her other ass cheek, driven by the flags of color that flared on her cheekbones.

  “More. Harder. Please.”

  I didn’t want to hurt her, but every time my flesh connected with hers, she moved faster, soared higher. Her nipples pebbled, succulent buds I couldn’t stop sucking. And her moans… God, I’d never imagined anything more erotic.

  Until she slapped me back. Heat sizzled over my chest, sinking talons of raging need deep in my gut. I roared with the burning pleasure and reared up to enfold her in my arms while I ravaged her mouth. Biting her lips, her tongue. Fucking her with everything I was and all that I wished I could be.

  For her. Only for her.

  Crying out, she ground against me, hitting that spot she needed. Firing us both up to the breaking point. She exploded around my cock, shaking me down to the core with the aftershocks and her guttural moans.

  I barely pulled out in time. My cock jerked in my hand, my heated release striping her pale belly. Branding her in the only cocky, illogical way I had.

  An emotion I couldn’t read flashed starkly over her face. Then she shut her eyes and closed me out.

  God, she didn’t think I’d gone back on what I said? I opened my mouth to speak, to explain that stupid, primitive need to claim, but nothing came out except a wheeze. What had occurred between us defied speech. And sanity.

  She quivered, finally lowering herself to my chest. We clung to each other in a sweaty, sticky heap. Panting like runners, shaking like junkies.

  “Tray.” When I didn’t move, she tried again. “Tray.”

  “Mmm.”

  “I wasn’t…there never was…” She braced her elbow on my torso and somehow I raised my head. “I swear, you’re the only man I’ve ever had inside me…except—”

  The roaring in my ears made me drag her down for a frantic kiss. No. Don’t say it. I’d have to hear those words soon enough, but not now. Not yet. “I trust you,” I whispered instead, repeating it as her mouth met mine.

  Pretending I didn’t taste the salt of her tears.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Mia

  The marshmallow melted on my tongue, the outside crispy, the inside heated, liquid sugar. So good that all I could do was moan and lean against Tray. “God. So good.”

  I licked my thumb and then held out my index finger to him, loving the way he gripped my hand as he nibbled the puffy sweetness clinging to the tip. Pain junkie that I was, I’d discovered I enjoyed prying the hot marshmallow from the stick and sucking it off my fingers. It was messier that way, but I liked the blaze of heat. I especially liked the way his expression devoured mine each time I offered to share.

  “You sound just like that when you come. All breathy and sexy.”

  He pushed his tongue between my lips in that commanding, take-no-prisoners style I loved. Kissing him felt like breath, like life, and I had
n’t fully inhaled in years.

  We’d cleaned up then sat naked on the log with the blanket beneath us. So far we’d demolished half the bag of marshmallows, stopping every other one for a serious makeout session. My lips would be raw by morning at this rate.

  From the way he kept casting hungry looks down my naked body, I was pretty sure my mouth wasn’t the only part of me that would be getting a thorough workout tonight.

  “It’s not how you sound when you come,” I said hesitantly, letting my hair shield my face. My cheeks weren’t hot yet, but my new hair-hiding habit wasn’t much of an improvement.

  “Don’t tell me I scream.” He grabbed another marshmallow and popped it unheated into his mouth.

  He was so completely relaxed about sex and everything else that sometimes I wanted to smack him. Other times I wanted to beg him to teach me. How did I unlearn all my fears and unremember my past? How did I go back to being an innocent girl who enjoyed sex as pleasure and release and connection?

  I didn’t. I couldn’t. I could only go forward.

  “No, more of a snarly growl thing.” I caught my lower lip between my teeth and marveled that for once, it wasn’t split. I was remarkably bruise and wound free. My incredible new trainer pushed me through grueling sparring sessions that rarely left me looking like a train wreck. “Do you miss it?” I asked abruptly.

  “Coming? Constantly. I’d stay inside you twenty-four-seven if you’d let me.” He shot me a sidelong grin and held out another marshmallow.

  “Not that.” Still no flushed cheeks. This might be a record. “I mean fighting. Are you sure you don’t want to go back after you’re healed?”

  “Absolutely sure. I’m done.”

  “You did it for years and you can walk away, just like that.”

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t for me. I am enjoying training though, but I suspect my very hot, very trainable student has a lot to do with that. Eat your marshmallow.”

 

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