Below the Belt

by Skye Warren

  “Oh, yes,” he said in a low tone. “They will.”

  “But what if they’re not?”

  There was a long pause, and she figured he wasn’t going to answer.

  “I screw up a lot, Paris, but I always come through in the end.”

  She tilted her head, resting on his chest to look at him. “You promise?”

  He pressed his lips to her temple, his mouth moving against her hair. “Promise.”

  She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

  She woke with a start to the sound of a phone ringing. It felt like just moments ago that she’d fallen asleep, but the dim light coming in through the window said otherwise.

  Without opening his eyes, Abe fumbled along the bedside table to the phone. A brisk greeting and thanks. He hung up the phone and pulled her close.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  “Wake up call,” he mumbled. “Go back to sleep.”

  She smiled despite her tiredness. “I don’t think that’s how that works.”

  “It does today. Now, quiet.” He tightened his arm around her.

  Paris closed her eyes obediently, her head resting on his shoulder, but couldn’t sleep. She peeked one eye open to study him. How he managed to look so dark and sexy at night but so fresh and wholesome in the morning she’d never know. Not that he didn’t look sexy now. The man looked too damn hot for his own good.

  Her eyes trailed downward to where the blanket was tented. She suppressed a smile. “How do you sleep with that thing?”

  “Practice,” he said gruffly.

  “I see. It happens every single morning?”

  “Yes.” The humor in his voice told her he wasn’t that close to sleep either. “You didn’t know that?”

  “Hey,” she said defensively. “I grew up in an all-female household. Guys are practically another species to us. How was I supposed to know?” And the few times her old boyfriend had slept over, she certainly hadn’t felt secure enough to bring it up. This man was so much stronger, so much more male, than her old boyfriend had been. But somehow she felt more free with him. Like she could do anything, say anything, and he would accept it. Enjoy it, even.

  She bit her lip. “So, do you…take care of it every morning?”

  He shifted on the bed. “Are you offering to take care of it for me?”

  “No. Actually, I want to watch.”

  His breath hitched, and he opened his eyes. God, so blue. Every time she saw them, they were a surprise. “You want to watch me jerk off?”

  “Yes.”

  Groaning, he shut his eyes. He rolled down the sheet and then, slowly, pushed his boxers down his thighs. Her own breath hitched then.

  His cock stood proudly, long and dark, like the rest of him. The muscles around it on his lower abs and down his thighs were sculpted, strong. All that power should be scary, or intimidating at least. Instead, she felt strong. He was lying there, exposed, fisting his cock for her pleasure. He’d made himself vulnerable to her.

  The scent of his arousal wafted to her, and her mouth watered. She’d gone down on a guy before. Her boyfriend had pushed her head down to his groin until she had no choice but to put it in her mouth. It hadn’t tasted good, but she hadn’t really expected it to. She’d just put that on her list of things she did to do please other people.

  But Abe definitely wasn’t pushing her. Instead, he was stroking his cock slowly, his eyes pinned to hers. She shifted her legs on the bed, rubbing them together, trying to ease the ache there. As if he knew what she was doing, his lids lowered with arousal. She licked her lips—his parted.

  “I want to taste you,” she whispered.

  He groaned. “Please.”

  And she knew he’d let her. More importantly, he’d let her stop whenever she wanted, without questioning her or guilting her into continuing.

  Biting her lip, she maneuvered herself lower on the bed. She pulled his boxers all the way off, careful not to jostle his knee. Kneeling between his legs, she looked up at him.

  “How is your knee feeling?”

  He gave a pained laugh. “I swear I can’t even feel it right now.”

  Paris smiled slowly. She grasped his cock at the base and stroked it, enjoying the way his dark, satiny skin rolled under her hands. Pre-cum glistened at the tip. She pumped her hands up and down until his hips were thrusting up to the same rhythm. Then she stopped. His eyes pleaded with her and his nostrils flared, but he said nothing, did nothing but wait for her.

  She touched a light kiss to the tip. Her tongue sneaked out between her lips. He tasted tangy, salty, sweet, and she wanted more. Her mouth circled the head of his cock with her tongue pressed against the tip. She didn’t try to take him deeply at all—she just wanted to taste him, to hold him in her mouth. Her hand started a steady pumping motion, up and down.

  “Oh, God.” He half-laughed, half-groaned. “It’s so good. You have to wait. Please. I want to be inside you. I have to make you come.”

  She paused with her hand on his cock, and her mouth closed over the tip. She considered ignoring him. He’d let her finish him if that’s what she really wanted.

  “Please.” All his muscles were locking up, tense. “I’m too close. Have to make it good for you. Have to.” He whispered the last, shuddering.

  Though her grip on him hadn’t been hard, releasing him was like unleashing an animal. As she sat back into a kneeling position, he was already up and rolling on a condom from the bedside table. She pulled off her clothes quickly, but he was impatient. He flipped her over onto her back, spread her legs, and nudged his cock at her entrance.

  “Paris.” He was breathing hard already.

  She gave him permission. “Yes.”

  His cock entered her, hard. She cried out, reveling in the feeling of fullness, the look of ecstasy on his face. He started thrusting wildly. She felt as if she were being pounded into the bed, and she loved it. God, to be wanted this much.

  He was talking to her, too—mumbling really, his eyes unfocused, as if he didn’t even know what he was saying.

  “Ah, God. Sorry. Need to make it good for you. It’s so good. Too fucking good. Can’t stop.”

  His thrusts were so forceful that she was sliding up the bed. One of his hands slid down to clutch her hip, holding her down, bruisingly hard. The other arm slid around behind her neck and shoulders, gripping her. She was basically immobile. It was such a relief to be able to lie there and take it, be taken.

  His motions above her were a blur, his eyes a blue haze. “Christ. Fuck. Tell me to stop. I’m hurting you. Am I hurting you?” He was, really. But she wanted it.

  “No, keep going. Harder, harder.”

  He obeyed her, like he always did, his hips slapping hers. “Ahhh, Paris.” His mumbled words morphed into her name, repeated again and again.

  She felt her muscles tense up, but his hands holding her down and the force of his thrusts made it impossible for her to do anything but wait for it.

  “I’m coming, Abe.” At her words, he cried out and shuddered, his climax hitting him just a moment before hers. He crushed his body to hers, but it released her pleasure. The pressure of his cock pulsing inside her and his body forced against her clit drew out her orgasm into a long, blissful spiral.

  He lay on her, too heavy and for too long, but she didn’t want to disturb this any sooner than she had to. There was a rare peace to the aftermath of sex when everything was right and none of the impracticalities of their relationship seemed important.

  When he stirred, she was both disappointed and ready to breathe again. He lifted his head from where it had rested against her neck.

  “Are you okay?” His voice sounded slightly slurred.

  The corner of her mouth quirked. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Soon.”

  He pulled out slightly, and her hips jerked. She was very sensitive after she’d come, especially so hard. He paused, unsure. She laughed, awkwardly at first. But then he laughed, too, an
d rested his forehead on hers.

  “Sorry,” he said, grinning almost sheepishly.

  He pulled out quickly and she sucked in a breath.

  “Sorry,” he repeated.

  “It’s okay,” she said, smiling back.

  He pressed a kiss to her lips before rolling off the bed. “I need to shower. But you. Stay exactly where you are. And don’t, under any circumstances, get dressed.”

  She laughed but remained on the bed, spread out and sated, her self-consciousness evaporated. The water turned on in the bathroom, and she allowed her mind to drift in her post-orgasmic haze.

  The knocking on the door was jarring.

  Damn. Let the morning after awkward-dance commence. She debated interrupting his shower so that he could answer his door, but figured she’d have to end up getting dressed anyway. She threw on her clothes and combed her fingers through her tangled hair.

  Paris opened the door to a man wearing the standard uniform sweats. He looked vaguely familiar—a friend of Abe’s? Ah, yes. From that night.

  “Ah.” He looked surprised. “Is Abe…here?”

  “Yes. Hi. Come in.” She gestured him inside as if she belonged here.

  “Sorry, I…” She shut the door. “I was just visiting him, and …he needed to take a shower, so…” God, she may as well have broadcast that they’d just had sex. Assuming he couldn’t already tell from her completely disheveled appearance.

  He gave her a kind smile. “I’m Rafael Martinez. We go to the same dojang.”

  She smiled back gratefully. “Paris Hunter. I met Abe…well, you were there, I think.”

  “Yes.” His smile faded. “About that, you should know we were all very sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it wasn’t okay,” he said seriously. “And that really isn’t like Abe, either. I hope you won’t hold it against him.”

  She didn’t appear to be, judging by this morning, but she wasn’t going to say that to Rafael. No matter that he’d pretty much caught her in a more compromising situation already. But he seemed to understand her blush.

  He smiled faintly. “Abe is a good person. Really good.”

  “You don’t have to lie to her,” Abe said, strolling out of the bedroom. He had on sweat pants and a plain T-shirt, his hair still damp and mussed. “She already knows me, and she likes me anyway.”

  Paris snorted. “Like may be too strong of a word.”

  Abe grinned, his cockiness firmly back in place. “You’re the one who came looking for me, sweetheart.”

  “I hate to interrupt this lover’s quarrel,” Rafael said, “but we have a bit of a problem.”

  Five

  “Just kill me now.” Blake’s groaned words echoed in the toilet bowl.

  “Don’t tempt me,” Abe said, pulling the first aid kit out of the cabinet. Bandages and creams spilled into the sink as he fumbled the box open.

  “Here,” said Paris. “Let me do that.”

  Abe hadn’t been clumsy on purpose, but he was glad Paris was taking over nursing duty. He’d had first aid experience before, of course, from working in the dojang, but nurturing didn’t rank very highly among his strengths. He moved aside as Paris knelt next to Blake, swab in hand.

  Blake moaned like a baby while she cleaned up the cut on his head. Abe rolled his eyes. “What the hell did you do?”

  “Nothing. Just had a little discussion.”

  Yeah, sure. “Like you had a discussion with me yesterday?”

  “Yeah, exactly like that.”

  “Fantastic. And who did you have this discussion with?”

  Blake shrugged, then winced at the movement. “A guy at the bar. Don’t remember anything after that.”

  “Great, so you got into a drunken bar fight while you’re here representing Sa Bum Nim’s school. Way to keep it classy.”

  “Lay off him,” Paris said. She finished putting the bandage on the cut and patted it with a thump.

  “Ouch. Jesus.” Blake covered the bandage with his hand, scowling at Paris.

  “Suck it up, tough guy,” she told him. “And brush your teeth. You smell like vomit.”

  Blake looked at Abe who shrugged. “Just do what she says. That’s what I do.”

  Grumbling, Blake got up off the floor. Abe and Paris left the bathroom so he could clean up.

  Abe ran his hands through his hair. “Dammit.”

  “I know,” Rafael agreed from the sofa.

  “What’s he going to do?” Paris asked quietly.

  “I don’t know.” Sa Bum Nim would flip out, probably suspend him from the competition. Abe was almost tempted to let him do it. Blake had been acting crazy lately. Still… “I don’t think we should tell Sa Bum Nim.”

  “Are you insane?” Rafael said.

  “I know Blake’s been a dumbass, but he’s worked his dumb ass off for this. He deserves to compete, at least.”

  “Sa Bum Nim will find out, then it will be all our asses.”

  “It’s just a cut. Besides, Blake’s had our backs before. We owe him this.”

  Rafael shook his head. “You’re loco. I never thought you’d be the one to keep something from Sa Bum Nim. Especially for Blake, considering…well, if you want to do this, then I’m in.”

  “Good. What’s the deal with the other guy?”

  Rafael shrugged. “I don’t really know. I think his name was Nick or something. I was in the bathroom when it happened.”

  Oh, Abe knew what had happened. That guy from the locker room, Nicholas, had probably been talking shit, and Blake hadn’t let it go. Abe hadn’t been there to hold him back.

  Once upon a time, they’d both been loose cannons, Abe and Blake. But as Abe had gotten older, cooled off, settled down, Blake had only gotten wilder. Angrier.

  “You didn’t see the guy at all?” Paris asked.

  “Well, no.” Rafael actually blushed. “I was in there for…a while.”

  “Oh, I see.” She smiled at him sympathetically.

  Abe cleared his throat. “I think what Rafael is saying is that he was not alone. In the bathroom.”

  Paris blinked. “Oh. Okay, I didn’t see. Got it now.”

  “So.” Abe didn’t know if the guy would stir up more trouble after this. All he could do was handle things on this end. “We’ve got practice at the gym in twenty minutes. Are we cool?”

  “One more problem,” Rafael said. “A small one.”

  Abe narrowed his eyes.

  “A very small one. I…left my belt at the bar. Possibly in the bathroom.”

  “Jesus Fucking Christ.” Rafael’s black belt. The one inscribed with his name and gifted to him by Sa Bum Nim upon his promotion. That belt. Great. What the hell was he doing with his belt in a bar? Showing off, probably. Idiot. “And why didn’t you go back and get it?”

  “By the time I remembered, they had closed. But the good news is they’re open now. It’s like a restaurant/bar combo.”

  Abe just looked at him, waiting.

  “But also, we may have gotten banned. As in, we can’t go back.” Rafael shrugged sheepishly. “Hey, Blake was going crazy shouting at people and I had to back him up.”

  All of a sudden Abe was itching to get into a bar fight of his own, just so he could kick someone’s ass. “This is exactly like having kids. Very annoying, very stupid kids.”

  “And not very cute, either.” Paris looked Rafael up and down.

  “Hey,” Rafael protested with a weak smile.

  “This is getting ridiculous. If we miss practice, people will know something’s up. Not to mention you and Blake can’t go back to the bar.”

  “That leaves me,” Paris said.

  “Absolutely not.” Abe and Rafael spoke at the same time.

  “Mmm, I don’t think you guys have much of a choice,” she said.

  “You are not going into a bar alone,” Abe said.

  “It’s not safe,” Rafael agreed. “They had a fight there just last night.”

  Abe narrowed
his eyes at Rafael, who raised his hands in surrender.

  “Well,” Paris mused. “My sister doesn’t have morning practice today. If it’s not that far away from the hotel, I can take her with me.”

  Abe would never understand women. He could probably meditate on it his whole life, reach enlightenment, and still have no fucking clue what went on inside Paris’ head. “How does that possibly help? She’s another girl.”

  Paris rolled her eyes at him. She did that a lot. “It’s called the buddy system. Two girls going out to a club is safer.”

  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “No, I’ve heard that before. It’s a thing,” Rafael said. Abe glared at him again until Rafael pressed his lips together.

  “I know girls like to go to the bathroom together,” Abe said. “I just didn’t realize it was for safety.”

  “No, that’s not the buddy system. That’s just because we want to talk about you behind your back.”

  Rafael opened his mouth, but Abe pointed at him and said, “Not a single word.” Rafael laughed behind his hands.

  Paris spoke slowly, as if his understanding were the problem and not her ridiculous lack of safety sense. “The buddy system keeps you safe because you look out for your buddy. Didn’t you go to Boy Scouts?”

  “No and no. All that means is that you’ll get attacked with your buddy.”

  “Don’t be silly. We go out all the time. It will be the two of us. This is just a regular city. During the day. We’ll be fine. Take it or leave it, but if you don’t make up your mind soon my sister won’t be able to go, and you’ll be shit out of luck.”

  “Take it,” Rafael said.

  “Fine,” Abe agreed more slowly. “But you call me after. Right after.”

  “Maybe.” Paris used that small smile on him, the one that said she’d do what she wanted and he’d take it. The one she’d used in bed this morning while driving him slowly insane. Shit.

  #

  Abe and Rafael trekked to the training center, lugging their gear and uniforms minus one belt. Abe had insisted on carrying his own gear this week, despite the stupid bet. The training center was a convention center that had been converted to a gym temporarily. So near the hotel, it was the perfect location for the competition.