The Final Fight

by JB Salsbury

  She rips her mouth from mine. “Wait! Shower.” She dives back into my mouth and locks her heels at my lower back.

  “Do I look like a pack mule?” I say against her lips.

  Shoving her hand between us, she palms me over my jeans. My head falls back on a moan. “Hurry, we don’t have much time.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I tug her close, wedging her arm between us.

  She giggles as I stumble through the house with AJ riding my body like a fucking carnival ride.

  I’m vibrating with need by the time I shove us both into the tiny bathroom. I reach behind me to unhook her ankles. “I know you want it quick, but at this rate, you’re fixin’ to finish me off.”

  I have about sixty seconds as she finally takes her hand off me, and I turn my back to turn on the shower water while she strips. She steps under the spray, and I toss my shirt, jeans, and boxer-briefs on the closed toilet before joining her.

  My eyes devour her delicate form sleek with water and soap bubbles. Her hair is wet and slicked back from her face as water clumps her dark eyelashes. “You’re so beautiful.”

  She gets close, her bare breasts brushing against my ribs, and she runs her sudsy hands up my chest and over my shoulders. “So are you.”

  I cup her jaw and lean in to kiss the water from her lips. Her touch moves down my biceps to my waist, my hips, and then her soaped-up hands wrap around to my ass. I could spend weeks with AJ like this, learning every square inch of her body as she explores mine, getting lost in the sweet seduction of her kiss, the flavor of her mouth flooding mine and leaving me lust drunk. However, there’s a clock ticking in the back of my mind, a countdown that can’t be ignored.

  “I hate that I have to leave.” My hands slide easily across her skin to cup her breasts, and I run my thumb along the pebbled tips until she hums. “Let me take you to bed, AJ.”

  Her head falls back into the spray, sending a river of bubbles between her breasts, past her belly button to dip between her thighs—the exact path I plan to take with my tongue.

  Flipping our positions, I rinse off the soap before turning off the water. Not bothering with towels, I scoop her, dripping wet, into my arms and carry her to the bed.

  When I lay her down, she doesn’t seem to mind the wet mess as her eyes stay hungry and on me. Reaching into my bag, I pull out a condom and rip it open. “This is gonna be quick.” I roll it on and growl when she licks her lips. “But I’ll make it good for you, muffin.”

  She doesn’t scrunch up her nose at my pet name this time. Instead, she opens her thighs and reaches for me. “I know you will. You always do.”

  There’s a hint of her southern accent, and I take her hand and allow her to pull me down to be swallowed up in her embrace. Slick and worked up from the shower, I sink inside her easily. I pull back, my elbows braced on either side of her. I watch her face and use my thumbs to tilt her chin up as I move oh so slowly. Her eyelids fall closed.

  “Open ’em, AJ.”

  She blinks up at me but only gets her lids to stay at half-mast as I love her body with mine. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me too.”

  She bites her lip and shifts her hips.

  “Easy . . . we’re in a hurry, but we’re not in that much of a hurry.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  It takes everything in me to keep up the leisurely pace, and before too long, I’ve hit my limit. Every muscle in my thighs coils tight. My abs go to steel beneath my skin as I power my hips forward. Knowing how thin the walls are, I drop my lips to hers and we grunt and moan into each other’s mouths before the overwhelming release finds us and we collapse, wet and spent together.

  I wait for the stars to recede from my vision before I roll away from her to ditch the condom.

  “That was so much better than breakfast.”

  Smiling, I glance over my shoulder to see her naked on her side and staring at my ass. “Can’t argue that.” I dip into the bathroom to pull on my jeans, forgoing my boxer-briefs to give my junk some room. I don’t know what it is about AJ, probably the fact that she’s hot as shit, but even right after I orgasm, I’m still swollen. I’m pulling on my shirt when I come back into her room. “Promise me you’ll eat breakfast, muffin.”

  She sighs but nods. “I promise. I can’t believe you made me all that food.”

  Sitting on the bed next to her, I push wet tangles of her hair off her face and pull the comforter up over her. “Leaving like this makes me feel like the biggest asshole on the face of the planet.”

  She snuggles deeper into her pillow, grinning. “Then stay.”

  “If I could, I would.” I check the time on her clock. “As it is, I’m going to have to hall balls to make my shift.”

  She pushes up to sit and wraps her arms around my neck. Her wet hair is cold against me, and when I hug her back, there are goosebumps on her skin. “Okay, I’ll let you go then.”

  “You need to get dry.” When she drops back to the bed, I cover her again, partly to keep her warm, partly because seeing her naked body will make it impossible for me to go. “I’ll call you tonight.”

  She yawns. “Okay.”

  I press a kiss to her head, grab my bag, and lock the door behind me before stepping out of her apartment.

  As I make my way to my car, I feel cheated to have had less than an hour with her, but then again, any time with AJ never feels like enough.

  Nine

  AJ

  Breathe . . .

  I can’t do this.

  “Whoa, check out the new digs!” William comes sliding into my dressing room with a huge grin cutting through his face paint. “Movin’ on up like George and Weesie.”

  The room is four times the size of my dressing cubicle. I even have a couch, but I can’t relax enough to enjoy it.

  I press my palm to my stomach. “Ohhh, we need to warn the first five rows that they’re in the splash zone.”

  “Gross. And, please, I watched your rehearsal yesterday and you were flawless.” He flops down on the couch in his full-suit-leotard with his legs spread wide. “A girl could get used to this.”

  I pace the room, shaking out the numbness I feel in my hands. “I don’t know, Will. I’ve never been this nervous before.”

  “Channel all that nervous energy into your performance. You know the routines; your muscles have them memorized. All you have to do is not fuck up.”

  I chew my thumbnail, nodding.

  “I’ll tell you one thing: that costume looks smokin’ on you. Miranda didn’t have the muscle tone you have.” He eyes my crotch. “I hope you shaved. Not leaving much to the imagination with that strip of fabric.”

  “Shut up.” It’s not a strip. It’s full-body, but it’s sheer everywhere except for my chest and between my legs where there’s a sprinkling of strategically placed crystals. The thing must cost a fortune, and I have six custom-fitted in my dressing closet. Again, something I could appreciate if I weren’t on the verge of passing out.

  There’s a knock on the door.

  Will flicks his fingers like a king and yells, “Come in!”

  A man walks in, but I can’t see his face because in his hands is the hugest bouquet of hot pink roses.

  “Whoa.”

  “Special delivery.” It’s Cedric’s voice that comes from behind the bush of extravagant flowers. He sets them down on my vanity and then sends me a look that I can’t decipher, but I wouldn’t say it’s pleasant. Maybe because he’s been subjected to being my delivery boy? “For you.” He eyes Will then turns to the door. “Stage call in ten.”

  After the door shuts, I scurry to the bouquet, looking for something that will explain who they’re from.

  “There’s got to be four dozen there.” Will’s at my side counting each bud while I search for—ah ha! A card.

  I pluck it from its binding and open it with my heart hammering in my chest.

  I’ve only spoken with Braeden a few times in the last week since he showed up a
t my apartment. He was a godsend too because eating better and making sure I get in at least five hours sleep made a world of difference in my training.

  I slide out the simple white card, and my stomach plummets.

  Fly high, Adeline.

  -A

  Andre.

  With a smile that feels more sad than happy, I drop the card on the dressing table.

  Will snags it. “Who is A?”

  “No one important.” The second the words fall from my lips I instantly regret them. It’s not that the man isn’t important; he’s just not Braeden.

  “No one important? AJ, this is like, I don’t know, two-hundred dollars in flowers!” When I don’t respond, he shakes his head in disappointment. “Wow, well he may not be important to you, but you certainly mean something to him.” He tosses the card back on the table. “If you’re not interested, send him my way.” He wags his eyebrows. “I’d never turn away a sugar daddy.”

  Laughter bubbles up in my chest and along with it a lightening of my mood. “We should probably head out.”

  “Yeah, let’s go.” He turns away and I follow, but at the last second, it hits me to check my phone.

  I mentioned days ago that tonight was going to be my first performance on the silks, but I wouldn’t expect someone as busy as Braeden to remember. After all, it’s not like we’re a couple, but it’s because of him I made it this far. I want to celebrate this milestone with him.

  “I’ll be out in a minute. I forgot something.”

  Will heads out, and I dig through my backpack and pull out my phone.

  I have two new texts. My heart gallops in my chest.

  Hey muff, I don’t know if you’ll get this before you go on tonight, but I wanted to let you know I’m thinking about you. A great man once said that if you work hard enough even failure is success. That great man is me and I know there’s no way you won’t succeed. It’s not in your DNA.

  Push hard, go strong, and kick ass.

  Oh, and call me when you’re done. I’ll be waiting to hear you tell me I’m right.

  I fire off a quick text and then shove my phone into my backpack. With one final check in the mirror, I take a deep breath. “Push hard, go strong, kick ass.”

  I got this.

  ~~~

  What a rush!

  As the crowd roars in a standing ovation, I bow for what feels like the millionth time.

  I nailed all my routines.

  Nerves wreaked havoc on my gut until I got my hands on those silks, and once I did, the world disappeared. It was just me and the music. I had an out-of-body experience as my muscles moved and responded to every cue and I could relax and really fall into the emotion of my performance. I bent and arched and rolled with a fluidity I’d never felt in rehearsals. It was like every dream I’ve ever had and so much more.

  With the final bow, the stage lights dim and the house lights come up. I’m floating on a cloud of I-can’t-fucking-believe-it as I make my way to my dressing room.

  “AJ, you were amazing!”

  “Fantastic job!”

  “We need to celebrate!”

  “Drinks!”

  My fellow performers pat me on the back as I weave through them to my dressing room. Pushing inside, I shut the door and lean my forehead against it, needing a moment to rein in the tornado of emotions to avoid bursting into tears.

  “I did it,” I whisper to myself. “I really did it!”

  “Did you doubt you would?”

  I whirl around so fast it makes me dizzy. Andre’s sitting on my couch, one arm stretched across the back, long legs crossed at the knee, and his tall body in another stunning dark suit. He tilts his head, those dark eyes taking me in from top to bottom.

  “Andre, what are you doing in here?” And did anyone see him come in? The last thing I need is for rumors to spread about us—not that there is an us—but being behind a closed door in my dressing room with my boss is sure to send the wrong message.

  He stands with all the confidence and strength of a man who is used to being in charge. “I came to congratulate you. Your performance was breathtaking.”

  I couldn’t fight the smile that pulls at my lips if I’d tried. “Thank you. Oh, and thank you for the flowers. They’re”—I look over at the botanical monstrosity— “beautiful. I don’t think they’ll fit in my car.” I laugh uncomfortably.

  “Tonight . . .” He crosses to me until there’s less than a foot of space between us and I have to tilt my head back to see his face. “We celebrate.”

  We? “Oh, that’s um . . .” I move around him to pull out a change of clothes. “That’s sweet of you, but I’ve already made plans to celebrate with the cast.” Not exactly true, but I will now. I’m not opposed to having Andre join us, but I get the feeling that his plans involve just the two of us. “Besides, I’m sure anything you have planned is going to require something nicer than the clothes I have to change into so . . .” My fingers brush a garment bag hanging in the closet. “What is—?”

  “It’s for you.” His voice is closer, right over my shoulder. “A gift.”

  I run the edge of the bag between my fingers, and it even feels expensive. “Andre, you didn’t have to—”

  “Open it.” His breath is warm against the skin on the back of my neck.

  I slide the zipper down to reveal a slinky silk dress the color of blood with a plunging neckline and spaghetti straps. “It’s . . . Andre, this is too much.”

  “I got your measurements from the costume designer here and had it tailored to fit.”

  “It’s so beautiful.” Too beautiful. I’m afraid to touch it, but I can tell by the way it catches the light that it would feel like heaven against my skin. “But I can’t accept this.”

  “Of course you can.” He reaches over me, and I’m swallowed in the heady scent of his cologne.

  He even smells like money.

  Slipping the straps off the hanger, he offers it to me. My fingers itch to take it, but I get the feeling that by accepting his gift I’m agreeing to something more, something I don’t want.

  “What does it mean?” I whisper.

  “It’s only a gift, Adeline.”

  “An expensive gift.”

  He sighs hard enough to move the small hairs at my nape with his breath. “Is my spending money on you going to be a problem?”

  Money. Luxury. Never having to worry about where the next meal will come from. Everything I’m working so hard to achieve he now offers me on one powerful finger.

  “All good things come at a cost.” I turn around to face him, and because he’s so close, my breasts nearly brush against his chest. Eyeing the gorgeous silk, I whisper, “What will be mine?”

  The side of his mouth tips up, flashing the shadow of his singular dimple. “You’re very bright.” He grips my hand and drapes the dress across my arm. “Time. That’s all I want.”

  “You don’t have to buy me expensive gifts for my time.”

  He finally steps back, giving me some space. “No, I suppose I don’t have to, but I want to.” He nods toward the dress. “Get changed. I’ll have someone waiting outside to bring you up.”

  It isn’t until he’s out the door that his words register. Bring me up?

  I suppose one drink wouldn’t hurt.

  I hold the dress in front of me and check out my reflection in the full-length mirror. “What am I getting myself into?”

  ~*~

  Braeden

  “How many more times are you going to molest that phone?” Deacon eyes me and curls his lip. “It’s fucking indecent.”

  I had a feeling I’d get caught eventually. I haven’t been able to stop flipping my phone in my hand and checking for missed calls.

  The words from AJ’s last text keep ringing through my head.

  Where have you been all my life? And please, tell me you’ll stay.

  Thank you for your encouragement. You have no idea how badly I needed it.

  I’ll call ltr.

/>   The first two hours after I got AJ’s text I wasn’t able to keep myself from re-reading it. I’ve been expecting her call. It should’ve come through over an hour ago, but I’ve heard nothing.

  “Sorry, man.” I study my cards and throw down a ten of clubs.

  “This your Vegas chick?” Deek tosses a card down. “What’s up with you two?”

  I can’t fucking focus, so I fold my hand and rub my eyes. “No clue. I dig hanging out with her, but we hardly know each other. Our lives are so different, but she’s cool as shit.”

  “So what? You’re friends with benefits, but not exclusive.”

  The way he says it makes it sound so cheap. I clench my teeth at the idea of AJ with another guy, but I can’t deny Deacon’s assessment. “Guess so.”

  What will I do, tie her down to a man she’ll only get to see a few times a year? Besides, I’ve only hung out with her a handful of times. She could turn out to be a complete psycho; although I doubt it, but you never know.

  “Good, because I’m meeting up with some girls at O’Malley’s, and you’re coming with me.” He pushes back from his seat and grabs a beer from the fridge.

  “Right now?”

  “What do you mean right now? It’s ten o’clock on a Friday night. Hooper, Mack, and Swiz just got off duty; they’re meeting us there.”

  I shoot the dude a glare. “Sounds like an orgy, and FYI, I’m not falling for it. Not after the last one.”

  “That wasn’t an orgy, dick breath.” He points at me with his beer bottle. “That was a backyard barbeque.”

  “Call it what you will. I say orgy.”

  “Skinny dipping is not an orgy.”

  “When there’s thirty people in the pool, it sure as fuck is.”

  He squints one eye. “Actually, no, it’s not.”

  “You’re desensitized to it, but I know what I experienced was far from innocent.”

  “Don’t be pissed because you were so drunk you hooked up with a grandmother.”

  I point at his face. “She was hot!”

  “Whatever.” He drains his beer and burps. “You’re driving.”

  I check my phone again.