Going The Distance (Ringside #2)

by Jennifer Fusco

  “So, what’s the plan? Are we going out? Or, do we get to stay in?” She lifted a brow, putting on her most seductive expression.

  When he didn’t reach for her as quickly as he normally did, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

  A rush of air blew through his nostrils. He frowned, and his jaw clenched.

  “How was sparring with Murphy?”

  He lifted his shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “It was a good matchup, but he’s still an asshole.”

  “I hope you punched him just for me.”

  He sat down on the bed. “You know I did.”

  She crawled around behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. She pressed down, digging her fingers into just the right spots.. His muscles rolled under her touch. Mike leaned his head to the left as her fingers dug into his trapezius muscles. Tension eased at the base of his neck. He relaxed, turning himself over to her care. Her hands dropped lower, to the back of his shoulders, pressing into his deltoids. Stress disappeared.

  “I’m sweaty.”

  She leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Good. You’re only going to get sweatier.”

  She continued massaging him. He felt so good under her touch. Even through his T-shirt his hard muscles teased her. She loved how he felt under her hands. Her thumbs passed over his muscles, digging in, pressing, and rubbing away the tiny knots.

  “You’re tight. I detect a hint of stress going on.” She squeezed tighter.

  “I’m not stressed when I’m with you.” Mike turned and pulled Ava face to him, locking her lips in a kiss. Oh, his lips. His sweet taste filled her mouth, and her body begged for more. She kissed him back, slowly at first, wanting to draw out the moment for as long as possible.

  She pulled back and whispered, “I have an idea to relieve all of your stress.”

  He gave her a sly grin. “Oh yeah. What’s that?”

  “What do you think?” Slowly, teasingly, she peeled her shirt off and flung it to the floor.

  Mike’s gaze settled on her chest. “Well, why don’t we stay inside and order room service.”

  “Good idea.” Ava popped the front clasp of her bra and dropped it beside her shirt on the floor. “We can start with dessert.”

  His mouth immediately latched onto her nipple. His tongue swirled around the hardened bud, and her back arched, giving it to him. He sucked and tasted, then moaned something in between kisses that sounded like you’re so beautiful.

  She felt beautiful, like she glowed. His tongue teased, and his teeth grazed her once again. Her hand cupped her breast, ready to feed his sexual appetite. His mouth moved from one breast to the other. God, she loved the attention he gave her. Working her up slowly, making their time together last and last and last.

  “Gorgeous,” he growled as his lips left her breast. “And all mine.”

  She was his. His forever.

  Mike’s mouth moved to hers and he crushed his lips to Ava’s. His hand curled around the back of her neck, pulling her closer, deepening their kiss. Ava wanted to stay in this tiny clip of time. Locked away in their hotel room, nothing could hurt them. Nothing could come between his heart and hers. She wanted to stay there, with him, alone, for as long as possible.

  Her hands went to the waistband of his athletic shorts, and she yanked them down. Thank God for elastic bands. She went to work on his briefs, and with his help, shortly those were gone, too. Lost in a heap of clothing, a mix of his and hers.

  His greedy hands worked on her zipper while his tongue danced inside her mouth. Her body warmed. She needed him now. Oh, right now. An urgent cry left her throat as he slid her zipper lower.

  In one quick push, her jeans were midthigh, and Mike tugged them down again. She escaped from her pants and wrapped her body dangerously close around him. Skin to skin felt fantastic. So alive. So free.

  He did exactly what she wanted him to. Somehow, amid the frenzied shedding of clothes he allowed her to take control. Small freaking miracles. Now, she had to make giving up control worth his while.

  She eased him to the bed, positioning him flat on his back. She loved his hands, his eyes, and the tasty color of his skin, like coffee with just a hint of cream. She loved it more when those crafty hands cupped around her waist and guided her to him. Crawling on top of him he placed her at just the right spot, straddling him. She came down on top of him and he slowly slid inside her.

  He filled her and she gasped.

  Oh, she felt full, so deliciously full and wanted and loved. And they moved in time together.

  His hands moved upward, caressing her sides, and stopped at her breasts. He lifted his neck off the pillow for a better reach. The pads of his thumbs rubbed across her nipples, sending shivers through her. She braced herself, keeping rhythm, letting him have his fun.

  He pinched her tit, and she let out a small scream. “Oh, you bad boy.” She teased, “Payback is a bitch.” Her body leaned forward, pressing him back against the pillows, and she kissed him, making sure to bite his lip.

  He laughed. He liked the bite. Truth was she couldn’t get enough.

  She rode him, increasing speed. His face softened. She adored him. God, he was beautiful. That body. Those clever hands. She never wanted anybody else. Squeezing her muscles, she clamped tighter on his cock.

  Relaxation time was over.

  She wanted him drenched in sweat and panting and trying like hell to keep from coming. “You feel so good. I want every inch of you.”

  He arched his back in response, pushing himself deeper inside her. He pressed and circled, swiveling those amazing hips deeper. The heat between them built. But his body tightened, holding back.

  “Come. I want to watch,” she told him.

  His face tensed. His features darkened, and intensity overcame him. He was building, climbing. Those intense feelings rolled over each other under his skin. “You fuck me so good. You’re so hard.” She turned up the heat. “I never want anyone else inside me.”

  His orgasm claimed him, and she dropped toward him, chest to chest. She kissed his jawline, his neck, his cheek. His hands roamed across her bare back. Gratitude filled her. So happy that they didn’t have anywhere to be, they could stay just like this. Here. Together.

  “Don’t ever let me go.” Before she thought it through the words left her mouth. “I want you so much. Please. Don’t ever leave me.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. Rolling to her to his side, his eyes met hers. “I’ll never leave you. Why would you think that?”

  Tears welled in her eyes, and she wanted more than anything to push them back. She didn’t want to cry. She didn’t want to seem weak or stupid or needy. That was why men left.

  “I love the way you make me feel,” she said. Hot tears started to fall. She wiped them away. “I want to be with you. Never let me go.”

  He looked at her like she’d lost her mind. But in truth, he’d touched something deep inside her that wasn’t crazy at all. He filled an empty space inside her. A void rooted in her core. Her father’s abandonment left her growing up thinking no man would want her. No man would ever care. All her life it seemed logical. If her father didn’t want to be with her, why would anyone else? That notion buried itself in her brain, damaging her for so very long. Doubts fed her belief she’d go unloved forever. Those debilitating thoughts resurfaced after every bad breakup or first date that never turned into a second.

  She was always the one nobody wanted.

  Until the day Mike changed all that.

  “I’ll never let you go, Ava. I might be a boxer, but there’s a brain in there. I’m smart enough to know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  Warmth filled her. The tears she fought spilled over. He lifted his hand, drying her cheeks.

  “Don’t cry,” Mike said. “It’s true.”

  Anything happening outside their four walls could never harm them. They were so hot for each other it would take a lifetime to get enough.

  He dried her tears
. Then, he slid his hand down the front of her body. His touch passed between her breasts and traveled south. He trailed his fingers over her belly button, leaving a path of gooseflesh in his wake. But, he didn’t stop. No. He didn’t stop there.

  His hand glided lower, stopping at her sex. His fingers teased her lips apart, and he stroked her. Ever so gently he teased her core, and her body heated. Wetness dampened his fingertips. She was ready for those magical fingers to dip inside, and oh. Sweet. Jesus. They did.

  She drew in a breath. A wave of pleasure tingled throughout her, all the way down to her toes. He slid one finger inside and she moaned. Her hips twitched, and he dipped a second finger in. Out. In. Out. He teased and twisted and circled until she panted.

  Then, his thumb pressed against her clit and spun more devilish circles until she knew, she knew in her heart, in her mind, and more importantly she knew in that tiny spot at the base of her brain. The one that worked so hard to deceive her.

  She knew.

  With all her heart.

  She loved him.

  And she came harder than ever before.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Ava had barely slept, and that sucked, considering how far they had to travel. After driving another five hundred miles, they’d almost arrived in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, and Mike could start his training. Daniella had called and set up another round of sparring when they arrived. Pennsylvania, a big boxing state, housed many places for fighters to train. Bethlehem was going to be a good stop, and the break would give her time to do what needed to be done.

  Mike placed his hand on her thigh. “Daniella said the hotel was right off the highway. The boxing gym isn’t that far away. I can run over.” He stretched his legs. “Damn, I need to run.”

  Ava nodded. She’d love to trade her driver’s seat for a treadmill, but working out would have to wait. “Honey, I need to finish up a few things for work, then I’ll meet you at the gym, okay?”

  Mike agreed. Then, he pointed to the sign for their hotel and she drove to their destination. Once inside and checked in, a part of her couldn’t wait for Mike to leave, not because she didn’t want him around, but because it was time for her to step up and be the protector. She had to call Ed.

  Placing a kiss to her lips, Mike stood at the door. “Don’t be too long, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He cocked his head, like he was sizing her up. “The place is close by, but I want you to drive the car over. Don’t walk if it’s getting dark.”

  “Yes, Dad,” she teased, then took her hand and swatted him on the butt. “Go already. You fuss over me like a nervous parent.”

  With another quick kiss, he left. After the door closed, she walked to her purse and telephoned Ed. She hoped he was in an agreeable mood.

  After a ring, he answered.

  “Ed, it’s Ava.” She addressed him in a businesslike tone. “We need to talk.”

  Silence. Yeah. He was in a real good mood. Not.

  “I have something for the Perez story.”

  More silence.

  She continued. “But it’s not something you can run. It’s more of an example.”

  “What in the sweet hell has gotten into you, Ava?”

  She sighed. “I wanted to talk to you about it before I sent it in. It’s not my typical article, and it’s not meant for print.”

  “And by that you mean . . .” His voice started to harden.

  “You want an above-the-fold exposé. You want hard truth. Something shocking. Well, this isn’t it. I investigated the claims and reviewed the school and juvie records with Perez. There’s just not much to it. The piece I want to send is a bit more uplifting, more celebratory of a boxer who overcame his past and really made something out of himself. However a lot of the info I obtained was off the record, so you can’t run it. This is just the sort of thing I want to run in the future. If you like the direction, I’ll write you a real article.”

  “What’s gotten into you, Ava?” He huffed. “Send me the article. I’ll hold.”

  Ava placed the phone on her desk. She fired up her laptop and emailed the article over to Ed.

  “Let me know when you get it.” She heard a ding over the line. “See,” she said after a beat, “there’s not much there in the way of controversy. Perez was a troubled kid who straightened his life out by becoming a professional boxer. End of story.”

  “I need violence and bloodshed, and you give me the hero’s fucking journey. What kind of crap is this?”

  “True crap,” she answered honestly.

  “You can’t expect me to print this.”

  “I don’t.” Her heart lifted. This was exactly what she hoped he’d say. “Like I said, the piece wasn’t written for print, and there’s stuff in there that was obtained totally off the record. It’s not my brand. It’s not the usual Ava Phillips article readers expect . . .”

  He didn’t let her finish. “So when do you plan to give me something I can print?”

  “Once you approve this kind of article. Readers want the informative articles I give them. But I’ve decided I’m no longer going to write stories of recognizable names doing naughty things. Like the case with Perez. He’s a great boxer, and once he wins in the Garden, I’ll send you my write-up. You’ll get a story, but it won’t be the one we thought I was after. A change like this, focusing on more positive news, will be good for you, me, and the Times.” She strummed his heartstrings. Nothing pulled at the few emotions Ed had like his love for his beloved paper.

  “So, what do you say? Deal?”

  He exhaled and a loud rush of air passed over Ed’s line. The sound reminded her of a Bugs Bunny cartoon. The one where the huge bull breathes out so strongly that stars shoot out from his hot breath. She wanted nothing more than to channel Bugs’s annoyance and give Ed a virtual smack. He was definitely steaming up her tail.

  “Deal,” he said in a begrudging tone.

  “I’m sorry, Ed. I’ll repay my travel expenses back to the Times since the story didn’t turn out the way we’d hoped.”

  He grunted, not agreeing or disagreeing. He voiced his unhappiness.

  “Once we arrive in New York, I’ll grab a flight back to Vegas.”

  “I’ll see you in the office on Monday.” He sounded deflated.

  She ended the call. Her stomach sank at letting Ed down. She was a professional. He’d expected a quality article and she gave him something off-brand and unpublishable. But if the positive sports stories she wanted to focus on were deemed puff pieces, so what? Ed would learn to deal with it. She couldn’t do anything else, not anymore.

  Mike had opened her eyes. She didn’t want to make a career off of other people’s mistakes. That was it. When she got back to Vegas she’d schedule a meeting with Ed and tell him she wanted to take her career in a new direction. She no longer cared about making an example out of sports celebrities and seeing that they paid for their mistakes. Who was she to judge? Never before had she stopped to consider the person behind the athlete. Everyone had a past, and everyone occasionally made a bad decision. She’d capitalized on the errors of people’s ways. And, deep down, that wasn’t who she was. Puff pieces might not get her the ESPN job she hoped for, but they’d allow her to sleep at night, which was fine by her as long as she slept every night beside Mike.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  After sparring, Mike ran back to the hotel room. Ava waited for him. Simply knowing that increased his pace. For the first time in his life, he actually ran to something, rather than away from it. Placing one foot in front of the other, his shoes slapped against the concrete. Every footfall brought him back to her, and he wanted to feel like this forever.

  He hadn’t talked about that past with anyone in years, not even Tiffany. He never wanted to. Bringing someone so close to that part of himself, well, he didn’t think he could. But when he told Ava about José and revealed his past, she didn’t waver. She didn’t shun him, nor did she look at him like the horrible failure he
was.

  Instead, she empathized. She understood that family meant something, probably because of how much her mother meant to her. Her closeness to Holly showed her how much he’d denied himself, estranging himself from his own family. It had never made sense to Tiffany, why he didn’t introduce her to his mother. She’d always pushed, from day one, to take their relationship to the next level. Marriage never interested him, and the thought of marrying Tiffany turned his stomach.

  Blood gushed through his veins. Marriage to Ava sounded like fun. He let out a small laugh. Marrying a reporter meant life would never be dull. The hotel came into view. He stopped at a crosswalk, jogging in place, waiting for the light to turn red. At the signal change, he ran past a small Italian restaurant and glanced in the window. Candlelight glowed from each table.

  A pang of anticipation struck him deep in his gut. It was time to show Ava what she meant to him.

  Five minutes later, his fist pounded on their hotel room door and Ava answered.

  “I mixed the protein powder for you, and I bought an extra bottle of water at the vending machine.”

  He dipped his head to hers and kissed her. But it wasn’t the thank-you kiss she probably thought. When he pulled back he said, “Put on your best dress, sweetheart, we’re going out.”

  ***

  Thirty minutes later Mike stared across the table at Ava. Move over, Kate Upton. Ava Phillips looked like the sexiest woman in the world. Her long red hair draped over her bare shoulders, and the thin straps of her black dress stopped at the curve of her breasts. She glanced up from her menu, and her emerald eyes pierced him. It was at times as if she looked straight through him and saw the man inside. No one had ever looked at him the way she did. No one had ever cared to.

  “This place is beautiful,” Ava said. “How did you find it?”

  “I saw it on my way back from the gym.”

  She raised a brow. “Mike Perez is being spontaneous. Wait. Let me mark the date. It’s sure to go down in history.”

  He laughed. “It’s what you do to me, baby.”

  The waiter arrived and she ordered a glass of Chianti. “Just water for me,” Mike said, looking at her across the table. “Let’s not get crazy.”