by Josie Kerr
Break that motherfucker.
Pierce could do all that.
And then there was Annie, who had come into the dressing room and kissed him, a kiss full of heat and promise, and then slipped out with a mysterious smile.
Hell yeah.
Pierce was fucking ready.
The ref called both the fighters to the middle of the cage and asked them if they were ready to fight. When the buzzer sounded, Bernard wouldn’t touch gloves, an unsportsmanlike act that was quickly becoming par for the course with Raptor Pryde fighters.
That was unacceptable to Pierce, so he knocked the arrogant fuck out in twenty-two seconds. Bernard didn’t even have a chance to get close to him, much less poke him. The men in Pierce’s corner, his corner, burst into the cage and pounded him on the back and gave him full hugs, not just the one-armed man hugs.
It was the best feeling in the world.
The ref raised Pierce’s hand, announcing Pierce’s victory by knockout. And when Pierce had his victor’s interview, he had to stop and pull himself together. Then he saw Annie, unabashedly bawling and blowing him kisses, and he knew without a doubt that this, this, was it. She was the one woman for him.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Pierce rode with the other fighters in the team van to Foley’s Public House, official after-fight sponsor of DS Fight Club. He used to dread working on Fight Night because it reminded him of everything he had lost and didn’t know where to begin to reclaim it.
Needless to say, tonight was a totally different feeling. Sully rang the victory bell when he walked into the room, and people pounded on his back and gave him fist bumps.
And Annie ran to him and jumped into his arms, hugging him as tightly as she could manage. Then she kissed him, and that kiss contained just as much passion and hope that the earlier one had.
“Hi.” She grinned.
“Hey, Annie.” He gave her rump a little squeeze, and she wrapped herself a little closer. Pierce gave her another little kiss and set her on her feet. He grasped her hand in his and cocked his head toward the back of the pub. With a wink to Colin, who rolled his eyes, Pierce led her down a hall, and they ducked into a storeroom.
“Are we allowed to be in here?” Annie whispered.
“It’s fine, at least for a little bit.” Pierce grasped Annie’s hips and set her on a pallet table.
He ran his finger down the placket of his favorite white blouse before wrapping his arm around her and pulling her to him. She pressed her lips against his and ran her hands up his chest and over his shoulders. Pierce stepped closer to her, between her legs, and pulled her against him.
“Damon, what are you doing?” she whispered against his mouth. She wriggled against him and elicited a needful groan from him.
“I’m going crazy is what I’m doing.” He twined his fingers in her hair. “You are so beautiful, Annie. So, so beautiful.” He nibbled on her neck while he played with the small patch of skin above her waistband where her shirt had come untucked.
“Oh boy.” Annie was breathing heavily, and Pierce stopped his ministrations and pulled back.
“You okay, darlin’?” He smoothed her hair away from her face. “Hm?”
Annie ducked her head and licked her lips.
Holy crap, that’s sexy.
She smiled a little, shy smile. “I’m just . . . very . . . excited.”
Annie rubbed her hands on his chest, and when her fingers found his erect nipples poking through his T-shirt, she giggled and then slapped her hand over her mouth. “How long do we need to stay?”
His laugh rumbled in his chest. “Do you wanna get out of here?” She nodded, that mischievous grin returning. “We’re good to go. Just need to check in with C.”
Annie nodded enthusiastically. “Good. Let’s go, because I think I might have to have my way with you right here near the pickled eggs if we wait much longer.”
“Hell yeah. Let’s go, and then you can do whatever you want.”
He helped her off the table and adjusted her clothes and smoothed her hair. Pierce kissed the back of her hand, and they walked out of the storeroom together, hand in hand.
The bar was silent, and Pierce froze. His eyes darted from face to face until he found Colin, who shook his head almost imperceptibly.
“Damon Aaron Pierce.” A man stepped up, and the crowd instinctually moved back.
Oh, this is something bad. Something really, really bad.
Pierce cleared his throat. Might as well get it over with. “Yeah, I’m Damon Pierce.”
“Damon Aaron Pierce, you are under the arrest for the murder of Tamara Hoffman, aka Andrea Michaels. You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law . . .” The officer continued to recite the Miranda warning as he snapped a set of handcuffs around Pierce’s wrists.
Pierce looked with pleading eyes at Annie, who rapidly nodded.
“We’ll follow you to the station, Pierce. Hang tough, man.” Colin’s gaze was so intense that Pierce felt like it was boring into his brain. Ryan was already on the phone, talking rapidly and low. He gave Pierce a thumbs-up and then continued his conversation.
The cops pushed Pierce roughly into the patrol car, and as they drove off, the last thing Pierce saw was Annie rushing out to the sidewalk, a look of devastation on her face.
Son of a bitch.
Chapter Thirty
“What in the world is going on? How could anybody think that my Pierce could actually kill someone?” Annie was almost vibrating with anger, pacing around the conference room at DS Fight Club. “And please—‘anonymous tipster’? Oh, my aunt Fanny. More like ‘anonymous lying butthead.’ ”
“Well, he did put his hands on her and say that she needed to go away permanently. Dead in a dumpster is pretty damn permanent.”
“Tig!” Everyone in the room hissed in unison.
The little cowboy shrugged. “I’m just saying,” Tig muttered.
Colin dragged his hand over his face. “Man, Pierce cannot catch a damn break.”
“Well, maybe he did.” Ryan flopped into one of the conference room chairs. “Looks like one of the eager beaver rookies caught the call and punted it over to a guy he’s tight with instead of actually following protocol. He should have called Johnny or Darren as soon as they figured out whose body it was since they both have open cases involving Andrea.”
“Okay . . .” Annie looked around as smiles spread across the faces of all the fighters.
Ryan squeezed Annie’s shoulder. “Pierce was at the presser when Andrea was killed. Every internet sports network has him streaming a live Q&A for the next ninety minutes.”
“So . . . what does that mean?” Annie fidgeted.
“It means that Pierce will be released before too long. He’s got to give statements and do a bunch of paperwork.” Ryan looked uncomfortable. “By the way, none of you heard any of this from me, right?”
Annie slumped back in the chair and closed her eyes. Between the fight and Pierce’s arrest, she was completely wiped out. She couldn’t imagine how exhausted Pierce must be. She just wanted him home.
“Annie?” Ryan grinned lopsidedly at her.
“What? Is he out?” Annie sat up, immediately alert.
“He’d like you to pick him up.”
“Oh, definitely! I’m going right now!” Annie took off out of the fight club and headed to the police station.
Half an hour later, Pierce rode in her car, her hand in both of his. He was quiet, but Annie assumed that being accused of murder would make one introspective. She squeezed his hand, and he returned the gesture.
“You okay?” they both asked at the same time and then chuckled simultaneously as well.
Annie stroked the side of his head. “So . . . I’ll take you to the fight club? I bet you’re pretty wiped out.”
He huffed a laugh. “Would you mind if we went to your place? I, uh, had kind of planned on that.”
/> “Of course. I mean, I want you to come home with me.” She smiled shyly. “Most definitely.”
Chapter Thirty-one
“Damon, Damon. We’re here, sweetie.”
Pierce awoke with a start. He didn’t even remember falling asleep. “Hey.”
“Come on, big boy. Let’s get you into the house and tucked in.” Annie tugged on his hand, and he got out of the little purple car with a groan.
“Babe, we have got to get you a new ride. I’m way too big for the Barney Mobile.”
“ ‘Barney Mobile?’ Her name is Tinky Winky, thank you very much,” Annie sniffed with mock offense.
“I don’t even want to know what a tinky winky is.” He yawned widely. “Damn, sorry.”
“Oh, come on.”
Pierce collapsed onto the couch as soon as they got into the apartment. Annie asked him three separate times if he wanted something to eat, and when he declined, she merely stood in the middle of her apartment, wringing her hands.
“Come here to me, Annie.” Pierce held open his arms. “Please, come here.”
Annie crawled up the couch to him. She sighed and made little comforting sounds as she nestled into his arms.
“Oh yeah. That’s what I’m talking about,” he murmured. He kissed the top of her head, and she surprised him by lifting her face and catching his mouth in a hot, soft kiss. He chuckled but deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth with his tongue, hands roaming over her back, clutching at her thighs. She groaned into his mouth when he wrapped his hands in her hair and moved his attention to her neck.
Pierce breathed her name on a whisper. “Annie. Annie, darlin’.”
“Damon.” Annie nipped at his ear. “Damon, I . . .”
“What, Annie?”
“I want . . .” She ducked her eyes down.
“Sweetheart, look at me.”
Annie raised her eyes, and the expression on his face took her breath away. That one look communicated more than any words possibly could. She stroked his handsome face, his jaw already growing prickly with stubble. She giggled and bit her lip, and Pierce growled.
“I know what I want,” she whispered, tentatively touching his chest. “I do.”
“Then take it.”
Annie stroked his chest for a few more moments, and then she stood up and held her hands out to him, backing up toward the darkened bedroom. Pierce followed her like a siren-snared sailor.
As he hovered in the doorway, braced on the doorjamb, Annie thought he looked like a statue carved from marble, his muscular body a vision of grooves and planes.
Annie smiled once again, and taking a deep breath, she shed her blouse and jeans and stood in her lingerie in the moonlight.
“Wow. Magic panties, huh?”
“Yeah, magic panties.”
Pierce hesitated in the door. He seemed nervous and unsure, which was oddly ironic because Annie had never been so sure of anything in her life. She crooked a finger at him.
Pierce closed the space between them in three strides. He tentatively reached out and touched the soft skin of Annie’s shoulder. She stood completely still, reveling in the feeling of his calloused fingers dancing across her skin. And when he brushed the peak of her nipple, her inhalation snapped his attention to Annie’s face.
Annie ran her hands under his shirt, over the flat plane of his stomach, and hesitated when she got to the waistband of his jeans. Meeting his eyes, and with him giving her a quiet nod, Annie loosened the buttons on his fly and pushed his jeans and jocks down over his hips and legs. Pierce stepped out of the jeans and pulled his shirt over his head. He stood before her, exposed, gazing at her steadily.
“Oh boy.” Annie didn’t know where to look at first. The coiled muscles of his shoulders? The cleft in his strong chin? All of that black ink? Her eyes dipped lower, to the closely trimmed hair that surrounded his cut cock.
He took a step closer to her. “No, not a boy, sweetheart. Not a boy at all.”
Annie’s mouth fell open. “Oh my gosh, Damon!”
He guffawed. “Too much?”
“Too cheesy. Jeez.”
Pierce smiled, a big, big grin, and then he laughed, a big, big belly laugh, as he stood there naked.
Annie put her hands on her hips. “What am I going to do with you, Damon Pierce?”
“Oh, I have a few ideas.”
Annie rolled her eyes, stalling, trying to regain her nerve.
“Annie, sweetheart. We have all the time in the world, you know?”
“I know.” She stepped up to him, close enough for her breasts to brush his torso. “But I want to do this”—she ran her hands across his chest—“with you, right now.”
“Right now?”
“Right now.”
And then Pierce was on her. Annie yipped when he scooped her up and placed her on the bed, kissing her hard, hands gripping her firmly.
“Oh boy.” Annie grinned and shimmied against his body. Pierce sealed his mouth over hers, and it was her turn to explore. Her hands were everywhere, all over his body—his chest, his back, his ass. His whole body was hard, chiseled—even his butt—and Pierce chuckled when Annie frowned a little bit because his butt cheeks didn’t give.
“Don’t laugh at me,” she said and smacked his ass.
Her eyes and mouth popped open when Pierce emitted a lusty groan.
“You like that?”
He chuckled, shy again. “Yeah, I do kinda like that. Nothing crazy, but yeah.”
“I like doing it,” she whispered so softly that Pierce could barely hear her.
“That’s pretty awesome,” he whispered back.
And then he rolled them to where she straddled his big body and his back was to the mattress.
“I like this, but I think it’s got to come off.” Pierce’s fingers drifted over the satin and lace of her bra, pausing momentarily to thumb her nipples into peaks. “Yeah, it’s definitely got to come off because I need to put my mouth on you.”
He removed her bra in a flick of his wrist and urged her forward so he could wrap his mouth around one nipple. She groaned and wiggled, and Pierce gripped her harder. Then he slid his hand between her legs.
“Holy shit, Annie. These are some magic panties for sure.” He peered between her legs.
“The style is called ouvert.”
“Is that a fancy way to say ‘crotchless’?” he asked knowingly while he played with her exposed pussy.
“Yep.” Then she groaned when Pierce pressed a finger into her. “Oh, yes. Oh . . . yes. Damon, I need you to . . . now.” She pressed against his hand as he added another finger and crooked both of them inside her. She shuddered briefly, a wave of pleasure coursing through her.
“Hold on, babe.” Annie watched him scrabble, hanging off the bed and digging in his pants. “Aha!” He held up the foil square triumphantly.
Annie laughed and rolled over, giving Pierce a view of his own, and pulled out a box of Pierce’s preferred condoms from a nightstand drawer.
She shrugged a shoulder. “I told you I was going to snoop.”
He laughed and rolled the condom on. Annie helped make sure things were as snug as they needed to be, and then she lay back on the bed.
He leaned down and kissed her mouth, her eyelids, her chin, and her forehead. “I want you on top. I want to look at you.” A nip to a taut nipple, followed by a soothing lick, had her squirming. “Please.”
Annie pushed him back and swung her leg over him while she balanced with her hands on his chest. She rocked back on his cock, not taking him inside but just rubbing against him, teasing Pierce with the array of textures.
“Holy.” He was breathing hard, staring at her face, into her eyes, and then she slowly lowered herself onto his cock, taking him inside her inch by torturous inch.
“You okay, babe?” Pierce ground out, strained.
“OH yeah.” She rocked slowly, almost lazily, against him, her eyes locked on his face. Pierce had his eyes closed and his hands above his head,
gripping her headboard. He thrust a little deeper, a little faster, every time she rocked back until finally he was both lifting her up while she was slamming down against him.
“Annie,” he growled. “Goddammit, Annie. I . . .”
Seeing him go over, his face contorted with pleasure, brought Annie to completion, and she called out his name and clawed at his chest, clenching around him.
When it was all over and the waves had subsided, Annie collapsed backward, and Pierce laid her down on the bed. He curled around her protectively and kissed the back of her neck. She was almost asleep when she felt him leave the bed and disappear into the bathroom, only to return a few moments later.
With a grunt, he rolled into the bed, and Annie curled around him, cradling his big body in her arms, her head tucked into the crook of his neck and her legs intertwined with his.
The next morning, after another leisurely lovemaking session, Annie sat at the kitchen table, her feet tucked underneath her, and watched Pierce move around the kitchen, making breakfast for her. He wore only a pair of tight black boxer briefs and a T-shirt. She leaned over to get a better view of him.
“Are you looking at my ass?” Pierce quirked an eyebrow at her.
Annie could barely keep a straight face. “Absolutely not.” She peeked at him again, her eyes dancing with amusement.
Pierce grunted but did a little booty flex at her when he turned to retrieve a plate from the cabinet. Annie clapped with delight and wolf-whistled through her teeth.
Annie could hear him chuckling as he set down the loaded plate. Then he picked her up and planted himself in her seat, with her sitting in his lap.
“Hi there.”
“Hey, beautiful.” Pierce kissed her cheek, and they settled down to breakfast, feeding each other small bites of food and chatting about nothing much at all.
“So . . .” Annie popped the last bite of toast into her mouth, giving her time to formulate what she was trying to say.
“Buttons.” Pierce winked at her.
She sighed and leaned against him.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Annie shook her head. “Nothing at all. I just keep waiting for something bad to happen, to ruin everything.”
