by Niles, Abby
Over and over.
Faster and faster.
Harder and harder.
Until he had drilled himself into every fiber of her being.
When she came for the second time, he quickly followed. And she knew she would never, ever be the same again.
…
Hell. He hadn’t even taken his damn pants off.
Tommy shoved himself back into his jeans and zipped up as Julie straightened. Turning away from her, he scrubbed his hands across his face. God, how could he have done that? He knew he’d wanted Julie…horribly. But to the point he hadn’t even taken off his pants, his shoes…not even his damn shirt? While all she’d had on was that flimsy skirt that hid nothing, a garter belt, stockings, and those fuck-me-hard heels.
God, he hadn’t even undressed her completely. Just bent her over and took her.
He was such a bastard.
Making himself face her, he noticed she was grimacing as she tried to move.
Skin going cold, he rushed over to her. “Jesus. Did I hurt you?”
A soft laugh was his answer. “The last thing you did was hurt me, Tommy. I think you’ve removed every muscle I have in my body. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this unhurt in my life.”
An insane amount of male satisfaction shot through him and he couldn’t help a smile. “No complaints, then?”
“Not a damn one.” She gave him a sleepy smile, her eyelids at half masts.
So she wasn’t bothered by the way he’d taken her? The roughness? The lack of caressing? Holding? Finesse…?
He helped her onto the couch and she leaned back against the cushions, closing her eyes, a light, contented hum seeping from her mouth. He raked his gaze over her. Her nipples were still pebbled from her orgasm. Red marks marred her thighs from his fingers gripping her. Her skin glowed with a pink flush. She looked completely sated…in such peace.
She was the most breathtaking woman he’d ever laid eyes on.
And he had not the slightest desire to leave.
“Need anything?” he asked, and had to clear the gruffness from his voice. “A drink. Something to eat?”
“Glass of water would be nice,” she said without opening her eyes.
He walked toward the kitchen but stumbled to a halt when he saw the dining room table. Food sat out on plates, and glasses of wine sparkled in the light of candles burning in the middle. A lead weight formed in his stomach. She’d been planning a night of romance, and what had he done?
Ravished her like a wild animal. She might say that she was fine with it, but this, right here, proved she wanted more. That she wanted the kissing, the slow dancing, the hand holding. The cuddling in the morning.
Panic squeezed his throat. He couldn’t give her that, and she needed it…deserved it all.
So he had to walk away.
And wasn’t that the ultimate irony? The one time in his fucking life he desperately wanted to stay, he was forced to leave.
For her sake.
He compelled himself into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, and strode back to her. She didn’t stir.
“Julie?” he whispered.
She made a soft noise and turned her head, whispering his name. Desire burned red hot through him. His heart clutched in agony.
No. He couldn’t walk away. Not yet. He still wanted her…had to have her. Just once more. He had a whole damn list of different ways he wanted to take her. Pleasurable things he wanted to show her.
Maybe he couldn’t give her true intimacy, or forever, but he could take her body places it had never been. For right now.
After setting the water on the coffee table, he lifted her into his arms and walked down the hall. He stopped outside her room and hesitated. Frowning, he stared at her sweet face, then at the knob. Panic trickled through him. This was when he always left.
He had a serious, unbreakable, no-sleepover rule.
But the idea of leaving Julie on her bed and going to his own room…
Hell, no. So not happening.
Smothering a frustrated groan, he continued on to his room, tugged back the covers, and gently laid Julie under them. She’d slept here just over a week ago. He’d liked her in his bed then, and he liked it even more now. Loved the fact that he could reach over at any given moment and coax her awake with small, deliberate touches. And the thought of morning sex when she was still sleepy-eyed and disheveled from a full night’s rest? Oh, yeah. He wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was she.
He stripped off his clothes, then crawled in beside her, propped up on his elbow, and just watched her sleep. He’d taken his best friend. Hard and fast and unrelenting. No undoing that now. All he could hope for was that one day she didn’t look back and regret it.
And he prayed to God he didn’t lose her completely when she realized what he already knew. That although the sex was amazing, that’s all there would ever be.
Because that’s all he was capable of.
Chapter 12
This morning had been so goddamn awkward.
Pulling in controlled breaths, Tommy lowered his body toward the floor as he completed one last set of triceps dips off the side of a workout bench. Then he shoved up and off, and jogged to the next circuit. After straddling the next bench, he gripped the hanging bar apparatus and pulled it to his chest.
Because of the late night, they’d gone to bed without setting the alarm. Julie’s frantic cursing had woken him up, and he’d realized she was already thirty minutes late for work. Whoops.
After a quick shower, she’d hastily dressed. That’s when it had gotten weird. Did he kiss her good-bye? On the lips? Cheek?
She hadn’t seemed to know the answer, either. Finally, she’d just given him a wave and a high-pitched, “See ya later,” and was out the door.
He jogged over to the rowing machine. How was he supposed to treat her now? She wasn’t his girlfriend, but they were sleeping together while living under the same roof. Man, he sure as hell hadn’t thought of that problem, had he? Talk about awkward.
Affection made him very uncomfortable. Which was odd, considering he’d never hesitated to wrap an arm around Julie or kiss her hair or cheek before. But this was a different type of affection—relationship affection. And that he was so not comfortable with.
God, he couldn’t keep thinking about this. It had driven him crazy all damn morning. How hard would it be to hold her hand? Give her a little more than just a rough tumble?
Finishing up the rowing, he jogged over to the weights, putting his focus back on his training as he did his squat reps.
Training had been going phenomenally and had given him some hope that maybe, sometime in the future, he’d get a chance to prove himself—where it really mattered.
In the cage.
A hand landed on his shoulder, and he glanced up to see Mike. “Let’s talk.”
Tommy set the bar back on the stand, then twisted to face his coach as he wiped sweat off his face with a towel. “What’s up?”
“I’m holding a really important sparring match on Saturday. Some extra training for Tate. I need you to be his partner.”
Tommy blinked. Next to Dante, Tate Donovan was Mike’s biggest name in the gym—an honor Tommy used to hold before everything went south. Tate was only one win away from being a contender for the Middleweight belt. Tommy didn’t know how he felt about being the practice dummy for a man who wanted to claim his former title.
“Can’t Dante fill in?”
“He’s welterweight.”
“He’s a title holder, Mike,” he shot back. “He’d be just as good, if not better, than me, even with the weight difference.” Mike was already shaking his head. Tommy persisted, “Okay, if not Dante, there are other middleweight guys in the gym. Why not one of them?”
“They don’t have the experience you do. I want this match to be as close to the real thing as possible. This is a very important training session, okay? It has to be you.”
To
mmy studied his coach, noted the shifting of feet and tension coming off him. “You’re not telling me something.”
“I’ve told you everything you need to know. You’d better be in here training your ass off this week. Got it?”
One thing Tommy had learned long ago was when his coach started throwing “Got it?” around, he was dead serious and wouldn’t take any more arguing. Tommy held up his hands in surrender. “All right. I’ll spar with Tate on Saturday.”
…
With a huge sigh of relief, Tommy opened the front door to the house, totally exhausted. Mike had made him stay for some extra training and had run him through the ringer. He dropped his duffel bag on the floor, then flopped backward on the couch and tugged the baseball cap over his eyes.
“Rough day?”
Julie’s voice came from beside him. Without thought, he reached out his free hand, blindly searching for her. When she placed her hand in his, he yanked her down on top of him and rolled them to their sides, knocking the hat onto the floor. He inserted one of his legs between hers, put his hand on her hip, and snuggled deeper into the cushion. The sweet lavender scent that was Julie soothed him as nothing else could.
“Tommy,” she whispered.
“Hmm?”
“Why don’t you take a shower?”
He cracked one eye. “Are you telling me I stink?” Not possible. He’d actually taken a shower before he left the gym.
She chuckled. “You are a little ripe.”
A slow grin came to his face as he caught the teasing tone of her voice. Someone wanted to play. He was completely game. “Holy shit. You are telling me I stink.”
“Yeah, and you’re getting it all over me.”
“Oh. I can make sure it gets all over you.” He rolled her under him.
Her squeal of laughter bounced around the room as she squirmed. “Tommy! No!” She gasped and he attacked her side. “That tickles.”
“Seems to me you’re the one getting it all over you now.” Grinning, he released her and gazed down at her, her face bright with laughter, eyes shining. So beautiful. Slowly, he felt his smile fade.
Dipping his head, he captured her lips and brought his hand up to cup her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her soft skin as he caressed the inside of her mouth with his tongue. He ran his palm down her throat, and lower, kneading her breast and tweaking the erect nipple that greeted his palm. She sucked in a breath, shifting beneath him so he fit between her legs.
Lust flared through him, hot and potent. He rubbed against her, pinching the tip a little harder. She whimpered his name and grabbed his ass, pressing him fully into her, and suddenly he had to be inside her. This time, however, he was going to get his damn clothes off first.
He shoved to his feet and held out his hand.
As she slipped her hand in it, she asked, “Where are we going?”
“I think you said I need a shower.”
A slow smile curved her lips. “I do believe I did.”
He yanked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. Her delighted squeal made something light and warm bloom in his chest, and he popped her on her ass, chuckling as she squealed again. He didn’t put her back on her feet until they were in the bathroom. After placing a condom within reach, he turned on the water then tugged his shirt over his head.
“Touch me,” he said.
Desperate to have her hands on him for a change, he squared his shoulders, bringing his chest forward. When she pressed her palms against it, he closed his eyes and stifled a groan. God, it felt so fucking good to have her hands skate over his skin. Her lips closed over his nipple as her fingers wandered lower and grazed the front of his pants.
If that was the way she wanted it…
He yanked her T-shirt over her head, and seconds later had both their pants off. Spinning her around so her back was against his chest, he slid one of his arms around between her breasts, clamped onto her shoulder, and slid his other hand down over her belly until he cupped between her legs.
With his mouth to her ear, he walked them into the spray of the shower and murmured, “Watching you come yesterday was so fucking hot. I want to see it again.”
Inserting two fingers deep inside her, he pressed the heel of his palm against her intimately. She clutched his wrist and moaned, her head falling back against his shoulder. He nipped the side of her neck as he started moving his fingers inside her.
“I’m the first man to give you one of those, aren’t I?”
Panting, she nodded. He’d known by the shock on her face as the orgasm had taken her, but a fierce possessiveness stormed through him at her acknowledgment, and his arm tightened around her.
“I’ll be the only man to give you one.”
Curving his fingers just right as he thrust, he pulled that intense release out of her again. Wetness saturated his hand as her entire body stiffened against his, and he took in the beauty of her in the throes of release.
She’d stolen his ability to breathe yesterday, and she did so again now as she finally found her voice and screamed, her muscles convulsing around him. When he’d pulled the last quake from her body, he removed his hand. One night he was going to give those to her over and over again, and take his pleasure simply by watching her.
She slowly turned in his arms, her head lolling on his chest. Then she dropped to her knees before him and looked up at him, water cascading over her shoulders and slicking down her body. That unbidden catch happened in his chest again.
The woman was the most breathtaking creature to walk the planet.
“You got to have your fun. Now I want to have mine,” she murmured mischievously.
The feel of her slender fingers wrapping around him made him jerk, but he wasn’t fool enough to stop her. He wanted to feel her lips around him. Feel the suction.
Then he did. The sweet, wet heat of her mouth encased him. “Julie— Oh, fuck me!”
As she bobbed up and down, gently cupping his balls, he was aware of nothing but her.
Closing his eyes, he groaned, knotting his fingers in the back of her hair. Nothing compared to the pull of her mouth. The vibration of her moans. He’d never get enough of this. He could live the rest of his life pleasing this woman and her pleasing him.
When he felt his release coming, he lifted her up and pinned her against the wall. Wrapping her legs around his waist, he blindly fumbled for the foil packet, ripped it open, sheathed himself then thrust deep inside her. He kissed her, deep and slow, keeping the same pace with his hips. Even. Steady. He flicked his tongue across hers as he pulled back and rocked forward. The slow rhythm felt amazing. “Oh, shit,” he groaned against her lips. “So damn good.”
The breathless hitches of her moans as he thrust into her kept him spellbound, and he lifted his head to look at her. Eyes closed, wet hair clinging to her face, she dropped her head back against the tile. He wanted to watch her lips part in the sharp gasps he could elicit.
Beautiful music he could listen to for a lifetime. The sound of Julie being taken—by him.
As he quickened his pace, she gifted him with her desire, pushed him closer to the brink with each sucked inhale, each murmured plea, each heart-tugging moan. When she shuddered and clamped around him as another orgasm took her, he followed her over the edge.
And for one brief, amazing moment, he actually wanted to believe they could always be like this. Together. That he was somehow capable of being everything she needed—everything she deserved.
That he could be her man.
…
A few days later, Julie walked into the clinic after lunch. Tommy had surprised her at the house, and she’d ended up having to stop at the drive-through on the way back. It had been like that all week. The man was insatiable. Muscles she’d never used before pleasantly ached after he’d introduced her to positions she’d only ever heard about. He had shown her a whole new world of sex. Taught her things about her body she had never known. One being that she was capable of multiple orgasms…not
just two, but many. God, so many. He’d continued pulling them out of her until she’d had to beg him to stop, not being able to handle another one.
And he’d loved every moment. The man truly believed himself capable of only thinking about the physical, but he was so wrong. That would have meant focusing only on his own pleasure. Since there wasn’t a single time he hadn’t made her feel like warm jelly, the man was a born lover, not a man who simply fucked.
Melody whistled as she spun her chair and leaned back. “Girl, I’ll have what you’re having. Damn. Who is he, and does he have a brother?”
Julie chuckled and sat at her desk. “That obvious, huh?”
“You’ve had that I’ve-been-rocked-good look all week. Spill. Is it that handsome fighter?”
She couldn’t be referring to Tommy, since Melody would’ve used his name. What fighter was she—
“Brody? Oh, God no, we’re just friends.” Over the last few days, they’d talked on the phone a few times. He’d been happy to hear that she hadn’t chickened out. She figured there was a little bit of vicarious living involved.
“Then who?”
She bit her lip, not really wanting to say. She hadn’t told anyone except Brody about the change in her and Tommy’s relationship. Mostly out of fear of how it would end. But she needed a woman’s perspective. She took a deep breath and confessed, “Tommy.”
Her friend’s eyes widened. “No shit? Really?”
“Yeah.”
“So are you two…together?”
“No. Yeah. No.” Julie slumped her shoulders. “God, I don’t know.”
And she really didn’t. When he was mindless with desire, she knew exactly where they were. But it was when he kissed her super slowly or thrust into her while gazing tenderly down into her eyes…those were the brief moments that confused her—left her wanting to know what it would be like to really make love to Tommy.
At the same time, she wasn’t sure if that was a good place to go with him. She was already a changed woman from being with him. If he ever— She shook her head. Not going there.
