Going The Distance (Ringside #2)

by Jennifer Fusco

  His body still damp, he opened the bathroom door and stepped outside the room. Ava remained seated on the bed, drinking her coffee. She’d propped her body against pillows and the headboard. The damn woman could’ve been a centerfold. She flashed an innocent smile as he crossed the room, as if drinking her coffee like a siren was an everyday occurrence.

  He walked through the cottage and found his bag. He’d always heard a man in a suit had the same effect on a woman as a woman dressed in sexy lingerie had on a man. If that was true, he wondered what effect a man in a towel had.

  It didn’t take long to find the answer. In a beat, Ava slipped off the bed and followed him to the next room. Two could play this game. He waited until she peeked around the corner, then he dropped his towel, giving her a view of his ass. A second later, clothes in hand, he turned around. Her eyes settled squarely on his dick, and her mouth dropped open.

  “Can I help you with something?” he asked.

  She didn’t speak, a rarity for Miss Ava. He’d never known her to be at a loss for words, but she acted as if her command of the English language disappeared after his towel hit the floor. He’d taken her off guard. Tempted her. Good. He wondered how she liked the taste of her own seductive medicine. Then, her sly grin reappeared.

  “Remind me never to engage in any kind of contest with a boxer. Fighters always win.”

  “We ultimately get what we want. We’re professionals. Just like you,” he quipped.

  “That’s right. Professionals.”

  Her words hung in the air and she backed away from the doorway. With the space between them, tension dissipated. He’d reminded them both of their jobs. The reason they were there in the first place. She was supposed to be off-limits to him, and vice versa, but situations changed, and lines started to blur.

  The bathroom door closed. Now it was her turn to spend time with the cold water. He was no judge, but if he were the one filling out the scorecard, this round went to Team Mike.

  Chuckling under his breath, he slipped on his jeans and his new Oakland A’s T-shirt. Jack had ragged him so hard about the old one, he finally threw it out. It was tough saying good-bye to the shirt he spent nearly every Saturday lounging in, but all good things eventually came to an end.

  Like this game with Ava. They had to stop teasing each other. He knew what she wanted, what she was willing to give, and there was no denying how badly he wanted to run his hands all over her body and turn her little moans into satisfied screams. Still, a strange feeling gnawed at him. He worried if he acted on his attraction to her, their affair might wind up on the front page of the Vegas Times.

  A feeling stirred in his gut. Deep down he knew she’d never do something like that. Knowing Ava, as he did now, she wouldn’t cheapen their relationship like that. She was no monster. She’d tried to look out for him back at the motel, suggesting they stay someplace else. She didn’t hide her feelings that it wasn’t safe. She’d respected his schedule, pulling over so he could run. She was mindful of his training for the fight. But he needed more, and he wasn’t going to do something stupid until he got it.

  He grabbed his phone from his bag. He desperately needed to call Daniella. He hadn’t told her of the car repairs, and they had to discuss how spending an extra day in Anderson would fuck up his schedule. She’d have to call the people at EverStrong and rearrange his photoshoot.

  Punching the buttons on his phone, the display remained dark. What the hell? His finger pressed another button. Nothing. Oh, hell. The damn battery had died. The only charger he’d taken with him was his car charger. This was supposed to have been a road trip, after all. And that damn cord sat squarely in the glove box of his SUV.

  He proceeded to the bathroom door and knocked.

  “Ava.”

  “Yes?” he heard her say over the sounds of the spray.

  “I need to borrow your phone. Mine’s dead and I have to call Daniella.”

  “Sure. It’s beside my laptop.”

  He allowed his eyes to scan the room until he found it. Taking the phone, he dialed Daniella’s number.

  After a few rings, she answered.

  “Daniella, hey, it’s Mike.”

  She gave a startled laugh. “The display read as Ava’s number.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that, my phone died. Look. We’ve had a few mishaps and I need to bring you up to speed on what’s what.”

  He told her of his stolen wallet and being stranded in Anderson. However, his biggest concern was rescheduling the meeting with EverStrong. He admitted it didn’t look good, being as it was his first meeting with them and he’d have to bail.

  “They’re going to see me as coming off like some self-centered dick,” he told his trainer. “I know it’s not good for first impressions.”

  “You let me worry about that. And about your finances. Let me find someplace to wire you some cash. We can’t have Ava footing the bill for the both of you.”

  He grunted his agreement.

  “How are things going with you two?” she asked, not prying, just inquiring.

  “Good, I think.” And he believed so. There were worse people he could be trapped on the road with who didn’t look half as good as Ava.

  “I hope you’re giving her a good story. You’re in a position to do a lot of good, not only for yourself, but for the gym.”

  “I haven’t given her much to go on,” he admitted.

  “Well, I’m sure you’ll think of something. Let me get a plan together to send you some money, and I’ll call you back at this number.”

  “Thanks, Daniella.” He paused. “And I’m sorry for the trouble.”

  “Oh, Mike.” She laughed away his apology. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she said as she ended the call.

  Heaviness settled in his chest. If she only knew. Maybe if he didn’t have anything to be sorry for he could give Ava the story she wanted. Or, he could act on his feelings for her. Or both.

  Ava’s phone rang. He read the words unknown number on the display. Probably Daniella calling back with something she’d forgotten to say. He answered, but before he said hello a woman started talking.

  “Ava,” the voice said, “why are you not calling me back? I left messages everywhere.”

  Caught off guard, he said nothing. “I’ve promised you the story of a lifetime, and each time I call your office I’m sent to voice mail. I told you I’m going to give you everything on Mike Perez and you act like you don’t care. What’s up with that?”

  The sound of Tiffany’s voice hit him. The pang in his gut struck him deep and hard. He froze. After a beat his thumb slid over the button to end the call, and he disconnected from Tiffany. Then, he moved his thumb over the icon to block the caller.

  “Who was that?” He lifted his eyes to Ava, who stood before him. He swore he hadn’t heard her finish her shower. She looked good, hair wrapped in a towel, damp skin. “Did someone call me?”

  “No,” he said without thinking, “wrong number.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Everything okay?” Ava asked Mike. The poor guy looked like he’d seen a ghost. Literally. His face paled. His body stood rigid, and there was a distance in his eyes like he’d been transported someplace far away. At her question, he gave a single nod.

  “Did you reach Daniella?” she pried.

  “Yeah.”

  Oh, good. He talked. Whatever had transpired didn’t send him back to a state of mutism, so it couldn’t have been that bad.

  “What’d she say?” Ava pressed, trying to engage him like a human.

  Mike shook his head, like he was clearing it. “Um, that she’d get back to me. She’d front me the cash for the car repair and expenses until we got to New York.”

  Relief poured through her. She tightened the belt on her fuzzy bathrobe, the one supplied by the Inn. She sat down on the bed and motioned for Mike to join her. He sat.

  “I take that back. It wasn’t a wrong number. It was—well. It was my ex. Tiffany.” he
said flatly.

  Great. Now every muscle in her body stiffened. She pulled the towel from her hair, trying to relax.

  “What’d she say?”

  “Nothing. I hung up on her.”

  “Good. I don’t want her in my story—well, if I have a story.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “All I’ve learned so far is you’re one of the good guys, and puff pieces don’t sell newspapers.”

  His posture slackened. “Will you lose your job, if you don’t submit the right kind of story?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. I hope not, but we all have a responsibility to sell papers.”

  “So, you’d risk losing your job for me?” He asked the question as if he were gauging how far she’d go. The truth was she didn’t know how far she’d go. She didn’t want to do anything to hurt him, and she didn’t want the Times to throw her out on the street.

  “I trust you. And, I only want to tell the truth, not hearsay. Just like I only want you, and nobody else.”

  She started to rise from the bed, and Mike took her hand, pulling her back down.

  “I want to trust you.”

  “You can,” she promised. “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met. You’re dedicated, and regimented. You carry a passion for boxing like I’ve never seen. For you, boxing isn’t about fame or glory, money or women. It’s about something bigger. You fight for something precious to you, something I don’t yet understand, but I see it in your heart. And I don’t need your ex-girlfriend to tell me differently.”

  Heat flared in his eyes, and he moved all at once, like he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He crushed his lips to hers and pushed her back onto the bed. His weight on her body felt so good, so right. She kissed him back. Oh, his lips pressed on hers, and he took her mouth. Hard and intense, he pressed his tongue to her lips and dipped inside. He tasted good. Sweet. His kiss sent her body ablaze. And God, she wanted more.

  His hands roamed across her bathrobe, searching for the belt. He found the knot and released it with one hand. Her robe fell open. His hand skidded across her flesh, cupping her breast and giving it a tight squeeze while his mouth worked her lips. After the first kiss, the first touch, she readied for him.

  He lowered his mouth to her neck, planting butterfly kisses along the path to her breast. She knew he wasn’t going to go slowly. Fine by her. She wanted him, hot and hard. His hand cupped her breast again, and his mouth latched onto her nipple. He suckled. Oh, God. His mouth felt so good on her she nearly came. He teased her with tiny bites on her tender bud.

  Her breathing intensified. Suddenly she was acutely aware of his movements, his warm breath along her skin. A tiny moan escaped her lips, and she whispered the words, “Fuck me. I’m begging you, baby. I want you inside me.”

  He flicked his gaze to her. She read the hunger in his eyes. He wanted her, too. He peeled himself from her body. Standing, he undid the button on his jeans. He opened his mouth, and she knew what he was going to say—planning, thinking ahead. But she wasn’t going to kill the mood with an intense version of the conversation, the one about birth control and disease. No, nothing killed the mood quite like a replay of sexual history.

  “I’m on the pill,” she panted, before he could ask, “and I’m clean.”

  “Me too,” he answered back. His eyes darkened and she knew he was finally going to give her what she’d waited for.

  Mike peeled his T-shirt from his body. The material dropped to the floor.

  She bit her lower lip, taking the meat of her skin between her teeth. She bit harder as he lowered his zipper. His jeans slipped down his thighs. He stood before her wearing only his boxers and he ran his palm over his erection. God, she loved that. It was so male. In a second, he tugged at the waistband of his boxers, sending his underwear to the floor.

  And, oh. My. God.

  His body, so hard, so fine, sent her pulse racing. She’d seen him before, but never with so much intent, with knowing where it would go. Warmth spread throughout her body like wildfire, and she couldn’t help herself from saying, “I want you so bad.”

  She spread her legs for him. He lowered himself to the bed. He crawled over her, teasingly slow. As he met her sweet spot, with one hard thrust, he pushed himself inside. Her hand grabbed the sheet, squeezing the cotton between her fingers as she pushed into her.

  A soft moan left her lips. “Oh God.” She couldn’t keep quiet. “You feel so good. So hard.”

  He rocked into her. With each pounding of his hips, she threw her head back. A smile spread across her lips. “Yes, baby. Oh, yes,” she urged, and he filled her greedy desire. And once again, his mouth crushed down on hers.

  Their tongues met, circling and dancing, as he took everything he wanted. And she gave more of herself than she ever thought she could. His hands reached up, clasping onto hers. He held her still and steady, as thrust after thrust worked her. So good. So deep.

  Deep inside, his dick struck the part of her that sent her body humming. Pleasure traveled through every nerve, tingling, teasing, as if she might explode. He broke their kiss. “Wait,” he ordered.

  God, she loved his commands. Tension curled around her spine. Waiting. God, if he’d keep her body singing, she’d wait for him forever. He pressed harder into her. Then, her body rejected what her mind promised. She couldn’t wait, not any longer. “I’m coming. Oh, Mike, I’m coming.” Her voice lifted an octave, as if she were trying to catch something slowly escaping her grasp.

  “Let go,” he said, giving her permission to fly. And, with a loud moan, she was free. His hand covered her breast, kneading her nipple, twisting the tiny bud as she cried out. Release poured through her, but Mike, he wasn’t slowing down.

  His pace quickened at the sound of her release. A low growl left his throat. He emitted the sounds of a man satisfying every urge, every primal need. She wanted to satisfy him. She hoped she could. He pressed deeper into her and his growl returned. Urgent, needed, now he was searching for release.

  “Come for me, baby. Come, before I suck you off.” The mental image she conjured was enough to push him over the edge. And, together, they collapsed into the bed, basking in sweet release.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ava was amazing. Mike covered her mouth and met her lips again for another kiss. She’d rocked his world. A breathy moan escaped her as he broke their kiss. Normally, he hadn’t been much of a talker after sex, or a cuddler for that matter. The afterglow thing never really did much for him. But his fingers ached to run across Ava’s soft skin. Every addictive inch of her sent a surge of need straight to his dick and a pulsing sensation to his balls. That sensation. That wonderful fucking feeling was because of Ava. No other woman had ever affected him the way she did.

  He needed more. His body craved more of her.

  In his mind, this was no one-night stand. She was his. Oh, fuck yeah. He wanted to do that again. He wasn’t about to let her go. He cupped her full breast in his hand, and then ran his tongue over her areola. Teasing her, tempting her, he caused that tiny bud to harden. His stomach tightened. His need built for her again.

  “Oh, baby”—she ran her hand down the front of his chest—“you’re killing me.”

  “Now you know how I felt looking at those gorgeous legs ten hours a day and keeping my hands to myself,” he said, his voice husky.

  She let out a small giggle. “Nobody said you had to keep your hands to yourself. In fact, please don’t.”

  He caressed her naked body, allowing his hands to roam in all directions. She squirmed under his touch, moving, heating up for him all over again. She was just the way he liked her, hot, wet, and ready.

  “Fuck me again,” she panted. “I want you so bad.”

  He wanted her, too. For now. Forever. Any complications. Any blowback they’d deal with it later, but right now there was only one thing he wanted her to blow. Him.

  “Suck me.” His need sounded like a command.

  An all-too-agreea
ble smile spread across her lips. Ava slid down the bed and took him in her mouth. Her tongue swirled around his cock. Then, she closed her mouth around him. In. Out. In. Out. He let his head roll back and she took him someplace far away. Someplace where there was just her and him and no one else existed.

  “You give fucking good head,” he breathed out.

  Her tongue massaged the tip of his cock. Pleasure ran through him as her hand gave his balls a gentle squeeze. She sucked harder. But no matter how hard her mouth teased him, he wasn’t coming. No. He wanted to get inside her and show her the effect her mouth had on him. Mike wasn’t a religious man, but being inside Ava was the closest place to Heaven he’d ever been. He hardened to the point where he thought he might explode, and said, “Get up here, baby. I want to make you scream.”

  She finished a last pull on his dick and released him. The sensation he felt from the heat of her mouth to the crisp morning air tested his control. But as he instructed, she spread her legs apart, and he climbed on top of her. Anticipation gushed through his body.

  Palms pressed on the bed like anchors, he filled her with one thrust. Her body shook. The tension, the raw, basic need consuming both of them. She arched her back, driving him deeper inside her. So deep. So fucking good. Flesh slapped against flesh.

  She felt so warm, so slick with need he barely kept control. His body pushed to orgasm. Ava gasped for breath and cried out his name. “Mike, oh God, Mike.”

  And that was all it took.

  He released inside her. Pleasure overcame him. And he hoped, God he only hoped she felt as good as he did. Nothing on earth satisfied him like pleasing her. He’d never felt this way. So filled with pleasure he knew no one else could ever make him feel the way she did, so safe, like he could tell her anything.

  He could. He knew he could because everything about the two of them together had been perfect so far.

  ***

  Mike stroked her hair as Ava slept. He pulled the sheet higher across her body, keeping her warm while his beauty rested. He might’ve worn her out, but the effect their morning together had had on him shot fire through his blood. And in his mind, nothing mattered but Ava and his upcoming fight.