by Olivia Chase
Hale stands and glares at me. “Listen—”
“No.” I hold up a hand in front of him. “You listen to me. You have no reason, and no right, to be jealous or acting like this. Moreover, we’re not even officially dating…nor have you asked me to be exclusive with you.” A fact that hasn’t escaped my notice. Something I try to sound flippant about now, but my emotions leak through anyway. “You have no right to tell me how to behave.” I can feel the tension in my jaw; I’m grinding my teeth.
Hale glares down at me. “I’m… Fuck, I’m not trying to tell you how to behave. I just…” He rakes a hand through his hair. “Are you interested in him, Phoebe?”
“No!” I practically shout. “And maybe if you’d asked me that before going off the deep end, you wouldn’t have had a stroke about it.”
His face softens, and he has the sense to look chagrined. “I saw you two talking and I lost it. He’s an asshole.”
“I know,” I grumble. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“No!” he barks. “Fuck. Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“Well, don’t overreact then,” I lob back.
We stare at each other. Hard.
Hale sighs. There’s a sudden vulnerability on his face that I didn’t expect. My heart skips a beat in response to the unexpected shift in mood. “Phoebe. I want you. Only you. I want us to be together.”
I suck in a breath. “Really?”
His hand stroking my jaw, then cupping the back of my neck, is my answer. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to my mouth. Then he opens up and dives into me, and I’m lost to him.
I press my body flush to his, needing to feel his length against me. Craving the sensations only he can give me. This man is becoming far more to me than I ever could have imagined. He’s slipped under my skin, working his way dangerously close to my heart. The scent of his musky body fills me, makes me hungry. I want him just like this—sweaty, masculine, touching me.
“Come home with me,” he murmurs against my mouth.
My heart stutters. I haven’t seen his home yet. But I want to go. And I know where this is headed. Somewhere I haven’t yet gone. “Okay,” I whisper.
Hale grabs my hand, clenching his bag straps with his free one, and guides me out of the arena. Leads me to his car. The ride to his house is silent, our hands reaching for each other. I can’t stop touching him.
I’m so damn nervous. Nervous and excited. Filled with anticipation of what’s about to happen.
I’m going to have sex, I can feel it.
Sex with the man who has moved me, made me feel things I never dreamed were possible. And I want him so badly I could cry.
We pull up to his house. I barely pay attention; I’m too focused on Hale. The way he looks at me, touches me, takes my hand and leads me to his room. My heart is about to burst out of my ribcage.
Hale closes the door. Turns to look at me. His eyes are full with emotion. “I want you so badly right now. Need you.” He touches my hips, right above my pants waistline. “Undress for me.”
My skin is on fire for him, made worse by his touch.
I take my time, wanting to tease him. Needing to torture him. The way he’s tortured me. I unbutton my blouse slowly. Savoring the way his eyes are locked on my body. My hands. How he’s still and tense, waiting for me to get naked for him.
But I’m going to make him wait.
I finish the last button and slide out of the shirt. He twitches, hands digging into his jean-clad thighs, but doesn’t move. Waiting.
Next are my pants. I turn away from him, unbutton. I can feel the heat of his stare on me, and somehow it emboldens me. Fills me with feminine power. I’m turning this man on. Me, Phoebe. The girl with no sexual experience before him. Yet he wants me so desperately. I can see his hard cock pressing through his jeans.
I bend over and slide them down slowly, slowly. Wanting to make him as aroused for me as I can.
I can hear him breathing hard. My own nipples are tight, my clit pulsing in time with his erratic breaths. I’m so turned on.
I slip out of the pants, left in my bra and panties.
“No more waiting,” he declares, grabbing me and tossing me on the bed. Then his hands and mouth are on me, and I’m moaning and writhing in pleasure. Oh God, he makes me feel so much.
His hard body is between my thighs, and I wrap my legs around him, grinding instinctively against his pelvis. I can feel my clit swelling from the action.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” Hale murmurs against my throat, licking and sucking, nibbling and caressing. His ministrations make me grow wetter and wetter.
My breasts are pressed against his hard chest, which drives me wild. I give in to the luxury of stroking his muscled back, all the way down to his ass. Oh God, it’s so tight…
“You need me inside you, don’t you.” Hale shifts and then takes my mouth in a hot, possessive kiss that melts me. I can taste him, revel in the feel of his tongue swiping in my mouth. How his hands roam my body without hesitation.
He wants me.
I can feel it just by the press of his cock between my legs.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I murmur against his mouth.
“So I am.” He makes quick work of discarding the clothing.
In the slant of light through his blinds, I can see his magnificent body…and holy hell, his cock. It’s huge. That’s going to go inside me? I have a moment of panic hit me.
Hale lowers himself back on me and resumes kissing me, stroking my flesh, making my nipples bead. “Just relax,” he says. “Don’t be scared. I’ll be gentle.”
He knows it’s my first time.
Mortification sweeps through me. Of course he does. Given my naïve reaction to everything else he’s done, why wouldn’t he? Tears are threatening to burn in my eyes, and I fight to blink them back.
He must be able to feel me tense up, because he reaches up and strokes my jaw. “Phoebe. Stop overthinking. I’m fucking honored that you…that you’d give yourself to me. I promise to cherish that.”
The words undo the knot in my chest. I nod.
“Let me pleasure you. I’ll show you how good this can feel.” He continues kissing me until I can’t breathe, then moves his devilish mouth down to my breast. My nipple swells under his touch, his licking. I’m arching against his mouth.
His hands touch my breasts, my waist, my hips…but not my pussy.
Which grows wetter. Wetter.
And I’m growing more frustrated.
I’m about ready to growl when he pulls away and looks at me, a knowing smirk in his eyes. “Is that sweet pussy hungry for me? I want you begging for my touch.”
My pride tells me no, don’t beg. But my body is screaming at me to say whatever it takes to make him touch me down there. I’m soaked, throbbing. I struggle for a moment internally and then finally choke out, “Please. Please, Hale, I need you inside me.”
“Good girl.” He rewards me by rubbing his fingers on my clit, which swells and throbs from his touch. “Oh fuck, you’re drenched. You need this cock inside you, don’t you, sweetness.”
“Yes,” I groan. “Please.”
He rubs the length of his cock against my slit, and I honest-to-God purr. Arch against him. Oh God, the heat…the hardness…I want to be a slut for him. Give him what he desires. Have him make me come until I’m nothing but mindlessness.
Hale’s fingers glide across my clit, his dick torturing me. I’m bucking against him, whispering words that I barely even register. I just need him to be inside me. Immediately. The sensation of our bodies grinding against each other is making me insane.
He leans over and grabs a condom from his side table, then rolls it on.
And then his tip is pressing against my entrance.
I still for a moment, suddenly nervous.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Hale takes my mouth in a kiss so hot that my toes curl. He’s tasting me, hands roaming my body, pinching and kneading the flesh,
and I soften again, desperate, hungry.
He pushes into me.
It’s tight. So tight. I feel stuffed in a way I couldn’t fathom before. There’s a twinge of pain as he hits my hymen. Oh God. Tears gather in my eyes.
Then he withdraws, brushing a kiss to my lips. “Shh. Let me pleasure you, baby.”
Then pushes his cock back in.
This stroke is better. I’m wet, and the glide is easier. I try to relax, my legs shaking, and press my thighs to his torso.
“You feel so fucking tight,” he breathes against my mouth. “It’s amazing. Holy fuck.” His cock works its way in and out of me. Each stroke is less painful. Each stroke is more pleasuring. He drops his mouth to my breast and sucks, nibbles, and I find myself sighing, the pain fading and giving way to the sensations of him moving against my inner walls. Oh God, that feels amazing.
“Hale,” I whisper. Dig my nails in.
“I want to fuck you harder. Is that okay?” He sounds guttural, his tone matching my desperation.
“Yes, please.”
He grips my hips and withdraws almost all the way. Then he plunges deep inside me.
His cock is rubbing my pussy so good. He thrusts again. Again. Pounding me. Driving the breath from my lungs. I can’t focus on anything but this man who is absorbing me, making me his.
He hammers harder, and I find myself arching my pelvis to take him deeper. I’m so wet for him that I can hear the sounds of my pussy as he takes me. I’m almost embarrassed by it, but not quite enough to ask him to stop. Besides, he seems to like it.
Hale reaches down between us and starts to caress my clit. “I fucking want you to come on my dick,” he growls. “Give me that, sweetness. Give me that sexy come.”
My body is burning for him. I drop my thighs open to the sides and let him fuck me. Take me. The way he wants. I surrender to Hale, give myself up to the onslaught of the sensations I’m experiencing. My clit is swollen against his fingers, and my pussy gets wetter and wetter with every stroke.
He drops his mouth down to lick the tip of my nipple again.
And I lose it.
My orgasm hits in a torrent. I explode, from my pelvis out, body shattering beneath this man who drew me here. My head thrusts back and I arch against him, biting my lower lip, desperate to stay as quiet as I can despite my urge to scream his name.
He doesn’t stop. His fingers are relentless, flitting against my clit, drawing out my orgasm, as his cock continues to pound me.
Finally the orgasm ebbs. I sag against his mattress, body sated from the pleasure. But I need him to come. He hasn’t come for me yet.
So I look him in the eyes. And I squeeze my pussy as tight as I can around his huge cock.
“Oh God,” he says with a grunt, staring at me. “Fuck. That feels…oh fuck.”
I pulse my pussy muscles to milk him. “Come in me,” I whisper. “Hale, I need you to come for me. Please.”
His thrusting becomes erratic, matching his breathing. I can feel his body grow slick with sweat. So sexy. I cling to his ass, thrusting him deeper inside me.
“I’m…fuck, I’m so close…” he breathes.
“I need it,” I beg him. “I need you to come.”
He stiffens, his back arching, and I see him bite his bottom lip as he attempts to silence his own cries. His cock is pulsing against my inner walls; I squeeze as tightly as I can to draw out his pleasure. “Oh God,” he breathes when his orgasm is done. “Wow.”
Hale takes off the condom, dumps it in the trash beside the bed, then turns me and curls my backside against his chest. He’s warm and sweaty, and I don’t care. I just need the intimacy of him close to me. I snuggle against him, and he draws the covers over our bodies.
“That was… Wow,” he whispers against my ear.
“Yeah.” I don’t have words. I just want to savor the moment. Feel him. Be connected to him.
We’re quiet for a few moments. Then he asks, “So…can I ask? Why are you a virgin?”
I wondered if he would. My face burns. “Truthfully? I…well, I never found anyone I connected with.”
“But you did with me.” I can hear the smugness in his tone.
I roll my eyes and laugh. “Yes, I suppose I did.”
“I want to see you,” he whispers. “More.”
I know what he’s saying. At least, I think I do. It isn’t just sex for me…and I don’t think it is for him. There’s something deeper happening between us. A connection that is forged even stronger because of what we just shared. “I want that too,” I admit.
We lay quiet for a few minutes. It’s a peaceful silence, our breathing slowing, fingers giving lazy swirls along each other’s skin.
“So your brother and dad live here with you?” I ask.
Hale sighs. “Yeah. Used to be a full house. Now it’s just us.” I can hear the wistfulness in his tone.
“You miss them, don’t you? Especially your twin.” I can’t even imagine how hard that is for him, depending on people his whole life and then having them disappear. Not that my situation as a kid was that amazing.
“I do.” He pauses. “Do you ever contact your biological family?”
My heart skips a beat. “I don’t, no. My…” I push myself to continue. After what we experienced, I want him to understand me. Need him to. No more walls. No more barriers. “My biological father was abusive. Verbally and emotionally. He never hit me, but the damage was still done. One time when he was drunk, he beat my mom up enough to put her in the hospital…and when she told the police that she wasn’t going to leave him, the state took matters into their own hands. They removed me from there and placed me with another family.”
“Was that hard? Leaving behind what you knew to start over again?” His hand is caressing my bare hip, helping me feel relaxed and not as nervous answering his questions. “Do you miss them?”
I sigh. “They send me letters every once in a while. They’re still together. Do I miss them? A little, if I’m honest with myself. There were good moments too.” The memories hit me a little too quickly, and I swallow. Refocus on the topic. “It was so hard at first when Will and Dana took me in. I fought against it. Was a bit of a brat. But they sat me down and explained that no matter what I did, they were going to care about me and not give up on me. And eventually, I believed them. So I stopped fighting it. Let them parent me. Love me.” I snuggle in the pillow, thinking about how Will and Dana loved me even when I didn’t think I deserved it. I was a scared kid, afraid of trusting. But they gave me a reason to trust. “My dad’s violence is why I’m so scared. Why boxing makes me nervous.” It’s hard to admit that to him, knowing that’s his passion. But I want him to understand me.
Hale doesn’t speak for a moment, and I’m afraid that I pushed too far. Then he says, “I get it. I was raised on violence, to be honest. Learned that my worth was centered around what I could do for my family…and how I could protect us. Pop taught me how to be a man, how to protect those who need protecting.” Hale pauses a long moment before continuing. “He went to jail for a number of years and just got out a week or so ago. And he’s…different.”
“How so?” I can’t help but ask.
“He’s been distant. I don’t think he trusts me anymore. Trusts anyone.” He sighs. “I don’t fucking know what to do. I’ve been loyal to our family from day one.”
I reach my hand over and cup his, which is resting on my hip. “I’m sorry. That has to be so hard.”
“I’ll be fine. I just need to keep my attention on my goals. If I can win this tournament, I can prove to him that I’m worth more than just being a hired hand.”
The emotion in his voice chokes me up. I squeeze his fingers, silent. What was it like for him, trying so desperately to please his father and being unable to do so? At least Will was kind to me. Encouraging. He never made me feel like I wasn’t good enough.
Hale’s breathing slows and thickens. He’s growing sleepy.
“Um,” I say gently.
“Should I…go?”
He exhales and tugs me closer. “Want you here. Stay with me tonight.”
Those words wrap around me like a warm blanket. I listen to him fall asleep, the soft cadence of his breathing. The intimacy between us right now is almost tangible. I feel like I understand him a little better. He presents himself as a badass to the world, but beneath that façade is someone who wants to be loved and accepted. A fragility he’s afraid to show. I can get that.
And my heart tells me that I want to give that to him.
Hale
There’s a loud crash coming from the kitchen that jars me out of sleep. I freeze, taking note of my environment. Phoebe is stiff, curled against me.
“What was that?” she breathes.
“Stay here,” I order, getting up to throw on a pair of jeans. Is some fucker daring to break into our house? I’ll fucking wreck someone for putting Phoebe in danger. She should feel safe with me.
Phoebe wraps herself in the blanket, looking small, eyes wide with fear.
“Don’t move.” I lean down and press a kiss to her forehead. “It’ll be fine. I promise.” On my way out, I grab the baseball bat I keep propped by my door.
I pad into the living room on bare feet. The sounds of groaning and muttering give me an uneasy feeling. I lift the bat and veer into the kitchen. “The fuck?”
It’s my old man.
Butch has his back to me, his hair a mess. He spins around, and there’s a bloody knife gripped in his hand. “Hale. Help me out here. I gotta get rid of some shit.” His face is swollen, bruised, with one eye swollen nearly shut. Blood is spattered on his long-sleeved shirt and jeans.
That unease in my gut turns into full-out nausea. “What did you do?”
Butch huffs. I can see on the counter behind him that there’s a black mask. He bends over to grab a garbage bag and begins to strip out of his clothes. “I was taking care of some shit that should’ve been taken care of a long time ago.”
I have a bad feeling where this is going. I can’t make myself move to help him, so I just stand there. “Is this about Outlaws? Did something happen between you and Smith?”
