“Show me how badly you want me. Show me what you do when you think of me and can’t have me.”
His eyes widen, sparking with interest, and his lips twitch, fighting a smile. “You want me to beat off? Here? In front of you?”
It’s suddenly the sexiest thing in the world to me.
“Mmhmm…” I can’t speak. With my other hand, I slide his boxers down, past his erection that springs to attention. I can’t pull my eyes off his thickness as I take one hand and slide it up and down his shaft.
Reaching behind me with my other hand, I slide it under the lotion dispenser and bring it back to his cock.
I then wrap my fingers around his shaft and begin lubing him up, relishing the groan that falls from his parted lips. After two slow and torturous strokes along his long and thick cock, I drop my hand and reluctantly pull my gaze off his erection.
Leaning back against the counter, I take in the dare and heat flashing in Grayson’s eyes.
I wrap my fingertips around the edge of the counter to prevent myself from touching him again, although all I want to do is drop to my knees, take him into my mouth, and send him off to training for the day with the reminder of me sucking him off.
But I really am running late.
“Show me,” I dare again. “Do it.”
His hand mindlessly goes to his shaft, and he begins stroking as if he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. His eyes don’t leave mine, and I watch his lips part with pleasure as he begins to jerk himself. His hand moves fast, sliding down to his base and then twisting at the tip.
“Kennedy,” he groans, his blue eyes hazy and cloudy with lust. “You’re fucking insane.”
I press my lips together, my fingers digging into the counter. All my muscles strain and tighten as I watch him continue to please himself, his eyes never once leaving mine. I can feel him watching me, watching him, and slickness slides down my bare thighs. I press them together to ease the ache I’ve created by my own wanton lust.
I’ve never watched a man jack off, but as Grayson begins rocking his hips into his own hand, moving faster and gripping tighter, I can practically taste drool pooling in my mouth with desire.
He comes on a groan, his jaw clenched together when I glance up at him. His eyes squeeze shut just as he moans my name, and I look back down to see come filling the palm of his hand.
I wrap my hand around his erection, unable to stop myself from touching him, from feeling the veins pulsing around his sensitive skin. His hand covers mine, his cum lacing our fingers together as we finish him off together.
“Holy shit,” he whispers. His chest is heaving and his breath is ragged. “That was so fucking hot.”
I swallow down my lust, force myself to get back to what I need to do, and turn around. I run my hands under water, washing him off my hands and drying them, catching his eye in the mirror.
With a glimmer of desire still lingering in my eyes, I flash him a sassy smile. “I know.”
“Devil woman,” he groans and presses his lips back to my shoulder. “That was mean and tricky and is going to get my ass on the treadmill for at least another six miles.”
Grayson told me that as it gets closer to his fight, his training coach forces his fighters into abstinence. He claims all that pent-up frustration gives the fighters a greater sense of urgency and focus in the ring. Grayson’s also said that every time he gets caught breaking the rule, he has to run an extra six miles on the treadmill. There’s no way Rodney has some sort of sexually-satisfied detector radar, but Grayson claims the man can always tell.
I think it’s all bullshit. But since I just got back together with Grayson, and because the sex is incredible every single time, if he doesn’t mind running the miles, I’m not about to start pushing him away.
“More than that if you let Rodney know,” I tease, thinking of all the time we spent in bed this weekend. My thighs and hip muscles still ache, as I think about how we barely got out of bed except to eat before we fell back together again.
“Hell, no. I’m not telling him.” His forehead drops to my shoulder and I feel his breath skate across my skin. “That was incredible, though. You’re amazing.”
“You can repay me later.”
“I’ll be counting the hours until I can have you beneath me.”
He peppers my skin with his kisses until I finish with my makeup and finally push him out of the bathroom so I can get dressed. I’m running too far behind now to take the time to dry my hair, so I roll it into a twist and pin it up, hoping that it looks decent enough.
I have a new job to begin today.
Along with a new life I’m building with Grayson.
“Will you be here when I get home today?” I ask once I’m in his kitchen, fully dressed in a light gray, conservative suit, the only pop of color a teal silk blouse beneath the coat. While I’ve moved in with Sarah, I’ve been spending most of my time at Grayson’s place over the last week. I can’t seem to help that I want to be at his place when he gets home from training and he seems to like me here, so until something changes I want to spend as much time with him as I can.
“Always.” He leans in and brushes a soft kiss across my lips, mindful of the lipstick I’ve just applied. “I’ll always be here for you.”
His words mean so much more than he says, and I step back, feeling the weight of them as they settle around me.
My smile shakes as I return his kiss and he wishes me good luck.
I only hope that his promises are true—that what we’re building this time together doesn’t fall to the ground like a poorly built house of cards.
Twenty-Four
Grayson
She’s really here. She’s next to me, in my bed, and she’s been here almost every morning for the last three weeks. She still technically lives with Sarah, but I plan on changing that soon. I like her here.
I like her in my life.
With impressions from the pillow on her cheeks, her lips parted while she sleeps in when I get ready to go train, she looks so peaceful, so at rest.
So much more relaxed than she still looks during the day. I haven’t been able to figure out if she’s still struggling with Thad and our past, or if she’s stressed over her new job with McMillan Holdings. It could be because now that my next fight is just two weeks away, I’ve gotten into beast mode, training six to eight hours a day. My diet is insanely strict, and I no longer have the time or energy to show her around Chicago the way I want to.
She lets out a breathy sigh that sends a shot of excitement straight to my cock.
I don’t have time for that this morning, either.
Adjusting myself, I lean over and brush my lips across hers.
“Mornin’,” she mumbles through a scratchy voice.
I chuckle and place my lips against hers again. “Go back to sleep. I have to get to the gym.”
“Mmm.”
Jesus. Even the sounds she makes when she’s half-asleep make me hard. If I could, I’d do nothing but spend every day next to her, showing her how fucking happy she makes me.
As much as I have always wanted to be with her, I never thought this dream would come true. But these last few weeks have reminded me that Kennedy is the one person who gets me, more than anyone else. When I get home from training, she has cooked dinner…full meals prepared from a menu that Rodney plans for me before every fight.
There’s something about the fact that she’s at home, waiting to take care of me, that I fucking love.
The only thing she’s missing is the apron with nothing on underneath…but then I’d probably never eat.
With a groan, I push myself off the bed. Making sure I’m quiet so I don’t wake her up, I walk to the bathroom and turn on the shower. As the room steams up and heats, I take care of business and then climb into the scorching hot water.
It burns my skin, but I relish the sting of pain against my sore and bruised muscles.
Grabbing the soap, I start cleaning my body, resting my head in the water spray and letting it beat down on my shoulders, and think about the upcoming weeks.
This fight isn’t going to be easy. I might be unbeatable, but Samson, my upcoming challenger, has a wicked right hook that’s been known to break men’s jaws in a single punch. He is the closest challenger to me, rivaling my record for knockouts within the first two rounds.
We’re equal in weight, in height, and our arm spans, meaning neither of us has any sort of physical advantage.
This fight will be fought close together, on our feet and on the mat, and it will be tough. Rodney’s been reaming my ass daily…pushing me further than I’ve ever had to go before, harder than I’ve ever had to train.
It’s killing me.
I jump when small, warm hands skim lightly down my soapy back.
Kennedy leans forward and brushes her lips across the ink on my shoulders. My arms shake from bracing myself against the tile, the insane urge to turn around and sink into her without preparing her first.
My cock likes the idea as it hardens when she begins dropping her kisses lower down my spine.
Fire shoots out from the places she touches and I turn around when she’s on her knees, her hands on my ass and thighs, her lips kissing me everywhere.
It’s fucking incredible.
“What are you doing in here?” I ask, although my words are chopped.
Kennedy presses her lips all along the insides of my thighs. It sends shocks down my spine and I have to fight the urge to shove my cock into her mouth until she gags.