“What?” Micah was stunned to hear him change his tune in favor of Dean.
“What Dean did was insane, psychotic even. But he knew his stuff when it came to managing your image. No one wants to touch the fighter who is wrapped up in some romance. They want the bad ass guy who picks up hot chicks and can lay whomever he wants. This Romeo image isn’t what you need right now.”
“But what about what I want? Doesn’t that fucking matter anymore or am I just supposed to be an actor and not an athlete?” Micah was furious. He just wanted someone, anyone to take his side on this.
Chris took a seat across from the desk, as he set down the newspaper image on Micah’s pile. “Listen, Micah. You can be the athlete and the actor. You can be the guy with a girl to go home to. But that cannot be your image when you’re out in the press. You have to spin this.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?”
“You hire a pro. I know a girl, a PR genius. She can handle this stuff for you. She can make you the knight in shining armor without killing your reputation. She’s a sports agent by the name of Lucy Hamlin. She’s with Sports In Agency.” He took out his phone and scribbled a phone number from his contacts on the newspaper clipping. “A friend of mine, a boxer, worked with her. She was worth it. You should call her.”
Micah was leery of it all, but he ripped out the number from the paper and put the piece in the pockets of his shorts. “Okay, and what about my coaching situation? You know I still need one of those.”
“I’ll do it, man. I don’t want to do it, and you better be prepared to do twelve-hour days until we leave for Chicago. I expect you at this gym from eight in the morning until eight at night. No breaks. And when you’re not here, you’re eating what I tell you to eat. You’re seeing a physical therapist. You’re swimming laps. You’re not fooling around with this other crap until you win.”
Micah outstretched his hand, grateful to finally hear his friend give in to his coaching position offer. “I’ll call up my lawyer. He’ll draft some paperwork and send it over this afternoon. In the meantime, don’t you have a team to manage or something?”
“Excuse me?” Chris feigned insult. “Don’t you have a treadmill to be burning off calories on? You were supposed to start two freaking hours ago!” He raised his voice like a drill sergeant as he stood over the wooden desk. “Get your tattooed, pansy ass out to that gym, NOW!”
Micah gave him a fake salute, stood, and leaned across to give the man one last friendly hug. He followed Chris out and shut the door behind him. His new coach’s voice still could be heard telling the men waiting for the interviews to begin that there would be no more today. Disgruntled voices rose up from the masses, but they quickly faded into the background.
Micah shuttered the blinds of the windows facing out onto the gym as he prepared to change into his workout gear. As he packed away his regular shorts into his gym bag, the slip of paper Chris gave him slipped out onto the floor. Micah studied the number and the name, unsure if an agent was really what he had needed. He knew that managing the business aspect was not for him. He couldn’t stand the press, let alone all the potential sponsors with their cheesy commercial spots and their staged photoshoots.
If he was going to hire an agent, it was going to have to be someone who respected his reluctance to sell out, but more importantly, the person was going to have to be his pit bull. She was going to need to sell the old version of him, the pre-Alice version that was in it for the money, the fame, and the sex.
Alice had given him a reason to be more than that, to feel more than that. Her stunningly perfect, untouched body and the way that she confidently glided over him each night was enough physically for him. She was this tame sexual beast whom he had so much more to explore with. Their relationship was just starting to heat up.
But outside the bedroom, she was his sole reason for survival. She was what he thought about as he ran miles upon miles on the track or the treadmill. She was the reason he took sucker punches and hits to his broken body. She was the reason he posed for the camera while shilling power drinks and athletic wear. She was the reason he was winning.
If this Lucy Hamlin was able to let him live his life with Alice as he wanted to while still molding him into the guy without two cents to give, she may be worth his time. If she wasn’t the answer to his problems, Micah needed to find a better solution to his image issues—fast. With semis coming up, he knew that eyes would not be on him and his muscles or his show in the ring. They would be square on Alice and their relationship.
Searching though the abyss of his messy gym bag, he pulled out his cell phone and began dialing the number on the paper. He was not exactly sure what he was getting into, but at this point, for Alice and the future of their relationship, it was worth the risk.
Chapter 4: Red Strands
Jeffrey leaned against the black SUV as he typed away at a text furiously on his cell phone. He checked his watch again and again, growing more frustrated with how late his client was.
Well, she wasn’t his client, but he was still assigned to her.
Finally, he saw her emerge from the restaurant’s glass doors. She was moving so fast he could imagine smoke trailing from her feet. Obviously, she was in no mood to be lectured on her tardiness. Jeffrey would have to keep that to himself for now and complain to his boss later that evening.
He followed her lead, rushing to the passenger door to open it before she could make it there. Before slipping into the backseat, Alice turned, untucked her strawberry blonde hair from her high bun and stared at the windows. She could see the people inside looking at her with such fascination. Her days as a zoo animal were over, but she knew that this was most likely only the beginning of her stay on display.
Jeffrey drove quickly through the streets. The SUV lacked a partition between him and his passenger, but he resisted looking back at her as much as possible. Seeing a woman, especially a beautiful woman like Alice, cry was not one of his favorite sights.
After a few minutes on the road, she leaned forward and spoke directly to him. “Jeffrey, do you know if Micah is home or what his schedule is like today?”
It wasn’t against the rules for him to divulge his boss’s schedule, but he still felt off about getting involved in this relationship. He had driven wives around who were always demanding to know where their husbands were or from whose homes they were being picked up from. However, in Micah’s case, there was not much to protect or give away. Like always, he was at the gym.
“From the text I received from him this afternoon, he does not require me to pick him up from the gym until about six this evening. He was dropped off around five this morning.” He glanced up at his mirror for a brief minute to gauge her reaction. She looked sullen but resolved. He could understand that being the girlfriend or wife of an athlete had to be challenging. There typically was not another mistress, just long hours away from home at the gym or meeting with coaching staff and press pools.
Alice thanked him quietly and then sat back into the seat. She watched Steubenville fly out in a distance, a blur of memories both painful and freeing. This town was where she retreated when her father died. It was where she got her first apartment and her first job. She met Micah here.
But at this moment, all she could see were the moments she would rather give back—the times spent with Caroline in which they apparently forged a fake friendship, the beating in the alley that gave her nightmares and flashbacks, and the hours spent wasted at the dead end job at the diner. Steubenville may have been her hometown, but, if she could, she would give anything to tell Jeffrey to turn around, head to her apartment, and help her pack the last of her boxes into the car for good.
However, that was not going to happen, at least not tonight. After all that had happened with the Invitational, the press, and the drama at the diner, Micah had all but insisted that she stay with him at his condo. Unlike the exposed apartment, he could protect her there. He could ensure that the press wouldn’t ho
und her whenever she walked to work or went to the grocery store. Plus, she was accessible for whatever he may have in mind for that night.
It was all but asking her directly to move in with him. She knew it was a huge step in their relationship—one that she was not even sure she was ready to undertake. Just a few weeks prior, after the blowup with Caroline, she had made the decision to find her own place. She had packed her items in boxes and bags and stored away her paintings in anticipation. But the “I love yous” flew too quickly, and she didn’t have the time to think about what she really wanted: Her own life away from the person she truly cared about, or a life with Micah in which she gave away her independence.
In his defense, Alice realized that Micah had done everything possible to make her comfortable while she crashed there most nights. Ellie, his cleaning lady and daytime assistant, had been instructed to grocery shop for Alice and to pick up whatever she may need or want. And, of course Jeffrey was there to drive her around town or to see that she got back to Micah’s place safely from work. The doorman, Leo, even began to call her by name, signaling to Alice that she was becoming more of a part of Micah’s personal life than ever before.
Yet, some days, especially days like today, she could not help but wonder if she was more of a prisoner. The walls of Micah’s impeccably decorated apartment seemed to close in on her. She was trapped in Micah’s pages only to play a part of Micah’s story. And while she knew that he loved her, cared for her, and wanted her there as much as she wanted to be there, she was not sure if she was just another character in his cast of supporters.
The black SUV pulled into the gray cement underground garage, and Jeffrey walked out quickly to get the door for Alice. As she exited, she stretched and shook her head. She was not going to let her negative thoughts affect her tonight. Instead, she would cook up a fantastic dinner for Micah’s return and change into something she knew he would find especially appealing.
The silver elevator doors opened up into the condo, and Alice could instantly smell the hint of the mix of cleaning supplies, fresh flowers, and Micah’s cologne. The condo was empty, quiet, and untouched. Unlike her apartment where the television always seemed to be on and the living room linens were tossed everywhere, this placed looked right out of a magazine and less out of her memories of home.
The sudden urge to just wreck its perfection came over her. She set her purse down on the ground in the middle of the entranceway and walked towards the living room’s black, slick leather sofa. Spinning her body over the top of the side, she fell down in a heap, allowing her body to crush the gray throw pillows and her arms to catch the red cashmere blanket. She stretched out, not caring that her dirty shoes were touching the fabrics or that her smelly work clothing could leave a lingering odor.
Instead, she grabbed a magazine off the side table nearest her head and began to read. Of course, Alice got wrapped up in an article about the “Ten Best Sex Positions to Please Your Man.” But even her attention couldn’t stay focused for too long, as the day’s events piled up on her, luring her into a deep sleep. She attempted to resist, but her heavy eyelids shut, and she was put back in her dream world and back into the alley.
As Alice’s mind fought off the man with her father’s ring, her conscious was awoken by the sound of a small thud. She tossed a bit, rolling over onto the couch’s other side, resisting the disturbance.
But then she felt it, the roughness of someone’s hand tracing the curve of her hip and bare thigh, the heat of someone’s large body sitting dangerously close to hers. And then the smell of him, musky and feral, hit her next, as he leaned closer to her face. His lips touched hers gently and then enveloped hers.
Alice, still in mid-sleep, was only slightly aware that she was not dreaming it. Micah’s taste was so real to her, so familiar. Her senses peaked, as he moved away from her lips and traced kisses down the side of her neck and shoulder, using the tips of his fingers to move her work shirt’s collar to the side. His other hand still lingered at her thigh, tracing designs in her fair skin.
Her eyes remained closed, as she came out of her sleep state. She wanted to enjoy this, to feel him without distractions. She wanted to imagine every bit of his movements and touch. She did not need to see his hand tightening its grip around the muscle of her thigh or it slipping up her black short’s opening. She could feel that all too well.
When it became too much to continue to play asleep, she fluttered her eyes open and spun around onto her back to face him. He was perched on the side of the wide couch. Dressed in his standard tight fitted black t-shirt and black athletic shorts, Micah appeared to her as something sinister yet magic. His tribal tattoos that made tracks along his muscular arms and neck only made her more aware of his darkness. Alice was his polar opposite. Fair and light, her porcelain skin swayed with desire at the sight of him and at the touch of his fingers at the very edge of her panties.
Alice looked at him with her green doe eyes, wanting to ask for more but not daring to speak. She sat up a bit, as he quickly slipped off her work shirt and tossed it on the ground next to the sofa. She slipped off her shoes, allowing them to fall with a small bang on the hardwood floor. He slowly undid the button on her shorts and then yanked them off, returning his hand to where they were, tracing the lines of the black lace.
Micah studied her from his position. She was exposed, yet did not cover or hide. Instead, she looked him directly in the eye, as he edged one of his fingers underneath her panties. He could feel the curve of her inner lips, damp and slightly pulsating. She arched her back a bit in pleasure, as he watched her breasts thrust forward, the black bra keeping the contents neatly tucked away from him.
He could not help himself. He began to kiss and lick her stomach, her hips, and her breasts. He could hear her moan as his finger sped up their circles. His teeth bit into her flesh, wanting to experience more of her, to taste what was inside of her. Her small, muffled screams only drew him in further, as he used his teeth to expose her pale, pink nipples, hard and at attention. His teeth grazed over them, as he used his wet tongue to flick and suck at their tips.
Alice suddenly sat up, unable to take anymore. She removed his hand quickly and then leapt forward, pushing both him and her off of the couch and onto the floor’s white shag carpet. She straddled him, as he removed his shorts and her his t-shirt. She stared down at him, taking in every inch of his firm, dark body. She could see his scars, both old and new, and she wondered what it would take to create one herself. Her fingernails pushed down firmly into his skin.
She could feel his body tighten underneath hers and his cock harden against the materials of her panties. As he unhooked her bra, her head dipped to his as her hair created a fiery canopy around their entwined faces. He was eager, she could tell by the way his breath was struggling to catch up. But she wanted to be in charge.
Her underwear slipped off next, as she let him watch her slowly remove them. She held them in her hand as she dropped them to the floor next to his head. Both bodies were unclothed and ready. It was Alice’s job to get started. But instead, she laid on top of him, her bare breasts against him, her smooth thighs wrapped around his. Her hands holding on to his. She swam gently against his expansive body, taking in the feeling of being so close to one another.
She allowed the tip of his cock to trace against her folds. He, too, was dripping, the contents mixing with her own juices. She allowed his member to slip into her, as she used his hands to sit straight up and lean back against his thighs. He began to slowly move under her, as she used her hips to circle left to right. His hand reached up to grab her breasts, touching the smoothness of it all.
She quickened her circles, as he began to thrust. The sensation of him inside of her only made it more immediate and necessary. She could not stop, even if she had wanted to. His long length filled her, rocked her, and punished her. Alice let out deep, guttural scream, as she felt his hand forcefully pull her upper body towards him, still pushing in and out. She fel
l forward once more, as he kept her head hovering above his. Using his now bent legs, he pushed harder and faster into her.
He could see her face change from soft to determined. Her eyes focused in on his, as her lips opened slightly and curved in pleasure. He knew that she was close. His hand moved to her hip, forcing her to bounce higher on the top of his cock. He wanted her to feel every inch, every centimeter of him. As her clit hit the top of his cock, he could not hold it in any longer. He burst inside of her, pushing every ounce of him deep into her. She too reeled, leaning all the way back against his legs, as he could feel her contract and tighten, releasing the muscle’s grasp.
When he had finished, she slipped off of him, but remained straddled. She fell on top of him, placing her body against his—both covered in a soft, downy sweat. Their bodies heaved and stretched with the return of the breath into their tired lungs. He planted small kisses on the crown of her head, brushing the messy strands of hair from her face.
A buzz followed by a pinning sound interrupted their quietness. Alice’s shorts, still in the pile of clothing near the couch, vibrated loudly against the hardwood. She let out a sound of protest as she fetched the phone from her pockets. Glancing down, she noticed the unknown number. It was local, but she couldn’t guess at who it was.
Tapout (The Submission Fighter Book 3) Page 3
