Fight or Fall (17 page)

Read Fight or Fall Online

Authors: Anne Leigh

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Sports, #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College

BOOK: Fight or Fall
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Her soft hands fisted my cock before she took the condom from my hand and suited me up.

I reached under, between us, ensuring that she was wet. I inserted finger inside her, watching her expression get darker, her breath hitching, her face was warm, so warm. I inserted another finger, joining the other one. “You’re so tight.”

“Ohh, it feels good.” The scent of her minty breath assaulted my senses.

“You okay, baby?” I asked, wanting to make sure that she’s okay.

“Yes,” she hissed, her legs opening wider, inviting me in.

I entered her slowly, giving her time to adjust to my intrusion, pushing my body up so most of my weight wouldn’t be on her. She was tight, so, so tight. It was like sinking into a glove that I had to stretch so I could move.

Was she a virgin?

“Ava, look at me,” I gently ordered, lowering her chin so she could face me, momentarily stopping her from nibbling on my ear.

“Am I?” Her gaze cleared up, wondering what I was asking. “Your first?”

I didn’t even realize she was crying. Her face was lined with a small amount of tears.

“Am I hurting you?”

She lightly nodded her head, her dark hair spread like a fan on my bed. I lightly brushed the tears in her eyes, caressing her hair. “I think it only hurts the first time. If it’s too much, I’ll stop, okay? Just tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” Her comfort, her pleasure, came first. I’d have to ice my blue balls, but if she said stop, I wouldn’t hesitate.

“Okay,” she agreed, my eyes on her eyes, waiting for any sign, any word from her, and I would stop.

I pushed a little bit more, fuck, it felt so good.

She breathed out, her eyes darkening in need. “I’m okay.”

I plunged in an inch more, checked her face, no word from her. Another inch, she was still okay. I took my time even if all I wanted to do was just move inside of her. As I slid all of me inside of her, she brought her head against my left ear. “I’m yours.”

A primal, rip-roaring, unexplainable feeling took over me. I took that as my cue, my signal to move, and I moved. Slowly, gently, my hips rocking against her tight sheath, my finger on her clit, my mouth on her nipple, on her neck, on her lips - all over her. I sped up my rhythm as I felt her shudder underneath me. “I’m coming.”

I plunged into her, in, out, slow, fast, out, in, slow, whispering, chanting,
You feel so fucking good, so amazing, baby, you’re so tight
, swiveling my hips to the rhythm that my body demanded of me. I gripped her shoulders tighter, nipping on her clavicle, clenching my teeth as I grunted, “Ahh, I’m commming!”

I stayed inside her long after I climaxed. When I pulled out, I stared at her and she had a small smile on her face. “I guess you really missed me.”

I grinned at her, standing up so I could get rid of the condom in the bathroom. I noticed there was light pink streaks on it. Not much, but it was there. Proof of her giving herself to a man for the first time.

I grabbed a small towel from underneath the sink and let the warm water soak through it.

When I returned to the room, I found her curled to the side, her body flawlessly naked against the dark sheets.

I asked her to open her legs, and I wiped her with the warm towel. She was smiling at me the whole time. I noticed her face was orange, like she had said, but the color negligible to the sparkle in her eyes, the warm flush all over her body, and the enormity of what she had just given me as it slowly sank to the deep recesses of my brain.

“Thank you, baby.” I swallowed, a lump forming in my throat.

She was twenty-four. She could have given it to anyone. I’d seen her in clothes that would garner a reaction from any man, even those celibate monks. One couldn’t help but think that she’s had her way around men, from the way she dressed, the way she talked. But nothing could be farther from the truth. Virginity wasn’t a big deal nowadays. It wasn’t to me either. Until now. Until her.

I liked her a lot. I also cared for her a lot.

Right there and then, I made a silent vow, a promise.

I would make myself worthy of her.

In every possible way.

“So you had someone put that shit on your face and you didn’t know how you were gonna react to it?” She was presently telling me how she had a pumpkin facial and it stained her face. Her hair was wet from the quick hot shower that we just had. I dried it with the blue towel I had placed between my lap and her head.

We were lounging on the couch, waiting for the Thai food to arrive. She’d wanted Thai food, she said she hasn’t had enough of it since her trip.

“My face stung during the facial. I mean when the aesthetician slathered the mask on my face, I yelped because it hurt a lot. I felt like my face was thrusted in front of an open fire.”

I gently caressed her forehead. “Does it hurt here?”

“It doesn’t hurt now. It’s just annoying that I look like this.” Her pink lips pouted, her gray eyes looking up at me, waiting on my verdict.

“Baby, you’re the hottest Oompa Loompa out there.” I held back laughing, giving her a small grin instead. Tracing the lines of her face, I said, “I’m not gonna lie, you remind me of Halloween…but you still look beautiful.” She did. She always did.

“Halloween?” Her brows shot up.

“Because of the orange.”

She slapped my hand and tried to wave it away. I dipped my head down, intent on scoring a kiss.

She kept her mouth shut. I slowly bit on her lower lip, coaxing her to open up. Little by little she did. She stroked my mouth with her tongue, lightly, forcefully, alternating the pressure, biting on my tongue, sucking on my lips, her hands gliding over and around my neck, asking me to lean down lower. We were busy in our win-win game of kissing that led to me rearranging her position on the couch. On top of me, she was a sight to see – her hair slightly wet and tangled in my hands, the shades of gray in her eyes turning into a fiery, feral black, and the clawing of her hands, her nails behind my neck, my back, my chest – damn, she was a spitfire.

Knock, knock, knock.

Something was pounding on my door.

Knock, knock.

Again.

Who the hell would be knocking at this hour?

Ava pulled away, her breathing hard, her eyes glazed, “Thai food.”

Oh shit, yeah, Thai food.

She uncrossed her legs from under mine, stood up, slightly unbalanced. I held her waist with my hands and lifted up my gray UCONN shirt from the edges and kissed her navel. She was wearing my dark blue boxer shorts with nothing underneath. She asked if she could borrow my clothes after our shower, it wasn’t a big deal. She could wear my clothes anytime. She looked a hundred times better, sexier in them anyways.

Clearly knowing what I was about to do, before I could pull down her shorts, she said, “Babe, the poor guy’s been knocking for a while now.”

“Not my fault my girlfriend makes me horny.”

Her eyes widened and she let out a little gasp, almost in disbelief, “Girlfriend?”

If the delivery guy wasn’t here, she’d get a spanking right about now. Of course she was my girlfriend. “Yeah, you got a problem with that?”

I gave her one last kiss on her still-open mouth and walked to my bedroom, grabbing my jeans from the floor to take my wallet out, and came back out to pay the delivery guy. I gave him a twenty percent tip, considering that he said he’d been knocking for almost fifteen minutes. Usually I was alert about my surroundings, a light sleeper, and heard footsteps ten feet away from me, which was an asset both in fighting and when I was swimming. I could tell when someone was creeping up behind me, enabling me to react quicker, faster, make my move before other people can. But Ava, around me, underneath me, basically anytime she’s near me, she takes that all away. All I see is her. All I hear is her. All I feel is her. My dad used to say, “When your mom’s around, all that matters is her.” I never fully understood that, didn’t give much thought to it. He was half-Italian. It was the romantico in him.

Ava was now wrapping the thin pad thai noodles between the tiny grooves in her fork. We were sitting on the floor, our backs against the couch. She raised her fork, nudging my mouth to open. Shit, if Leif or Jeff saw me doing this I’d be the butt end of endless ribbing and teasing. They’d say that I was getting soft or turning into a pansy. I opened my mouth and half-chewed on her offering.

“You like it?” she asked, her white teeth making an appearance, her orange face looking brighter.

Yeah, I like you. A lot. “It’s good.”

“I know, right? I can’t believe you haven’t tried Seafood Pad Thai.”

I haven’t tried a lot of things. “I’ll have you try some of the Quiche Lorraine from my fave bakery one of these days.” Her gray eyes were twinkling, as if she was having a light bulb moment.

I pulled her closer to me, her head reflexively leaning against the crook of my armpit. “I’ll try anything you want me to try.”

She played with her fork, spearing another thin noodle. “Even pumpkin facials?”

“If you’re the one giving it to me, yes. Other than that, no fucking way.” I inhaled her flowery scented hair. “And you better be naked when you’re applying that shit on me.”

She bubbled in laughter. She’d have to catch me on a very good day before I’d have her put some shit on my face. Maybe after three rounds of sex…maybe.

The cooking show she liked to watch was on, her phone was playing some soft music, the small flurry of activity, her eating, me eating, her feeding me felt natural, familiar, effortless. Tonight she’d given me something she’d never given anyone.

In the shower, when I’d asked why not, she shrugged her shoulders and said that she didn’t feel like giving her virginity to anyone. When I asked her if it hurt, she’d said it did, but only for a second or two. She’d acted like it was no big deal. But it was. To me, it was. Ava made me feel…made me hope that maybe there was something good left in me, that I was worthy of something she’d never handed to anyone. That maybe I did make a mistake and it was time for me to stop pussy-footing about it and own it.

I was going to ask her to go to Colorado with me and maybe spend some time hanging out, kayaking and white water rafting in Central Colorado’s Arkansas River. I’ve never been there but I heard from Jeff that his girlfriend, Sharon, loved the scenery and wildlife.

I felt something shift inside me, I didn’t know what to do with it. I’ve followed my own instincts all of my life, it’s saved me from making a fool of myself, protected me and my sister from the harsh realities of the world as much as I could, but it’s also led me to making the biggest mistake of my life.

Tonight I was following Ava’s lead, her instincts, her voice of reason. “How do you feel about taking a trip to Arizona with me?”

I felt the tension in him. He’d been very quiet the last few days leading up to the trip. This month, he didn’t have to fight. The audience had chosen a Japanese fighter against a Ukrainian fighter. The Japanese guy was scary to watch. He looked small, but his size was deceiving. I haven’t seen anyone move as fast as he did and I thought I heard the snapping of bones when he kicked the Ukrainian guy. I prayed to God Milo wouldn’t have to face him. I had no doubt my man had excellent fighting skills, but I still had my reservations. Every time Milo’s name was announced, I wanted to throw up. Granted, I didn’t like to watch the fights at all. The Next Generations Fight Club was the first fight club that my father owned.

I’d never be used to seeing Milo hurt. Each kick, each blow, each punch that landed on his body were direct hits to my heart. He always seemed to be okay after the fights though, to which I can thank my lucky stars for. The last time I saw him truly get hurt was when the Brazilian guy hit his leg, but even then Milo didn’t seem to have a difficult recovery time. Maybe it was because he knew his body so well after years of being in sports.

My mom was doing okay. She’d been having better days – I think she was getting stronger. Every day I managed to have lunch with her. My father had been okay with me visiting her frequently. I could even take her out now if I wanted to. His acquiescence was largely due to the fact that I’d been watching the fights and going along with his orders – staying away from other guys, except Emmett. Emmett had been out-of-town. He’d been texting me, asking me of my availability, and when he gets back in town he’d love to hang out. I had to delete those messages right away as soon as I received them. I had yet to tell Milo about my father’s recent meddling about who I dated. My father was distracted with a business merger with an Indonesian mining company, according to Daniel, so he wasn’t around much. I’ve exchanged a few words with him in the hallways when I visited Mom, but that was it. He was like that; he’d lock himself in his room at the house or his office in downtown Las Vegas when something big was about to happen.

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