Her reflexes were tightly honed for an assault that never came. Jules attacked and Romeo sidestepped or blocked every time. Completely on the defensive, his movements were fluid, graceful, and uncomplicated. He made a lifetime of work look natural and painless.
She was sweating; it ran down the curve of her spine and dripped from her temples. She kept her breathing even, and she refused to let up. Every punch and kick she sent at him, she did it with the full force of her strength, looking for the chink in his armor. She wouldn’t back down or be discouraged by his swift, often painful countermoves that would probably leave her bruised tomorrow; it just pushed her harder, made her move faster.
Jules knew instinctively she hadn’t been this efficient a fighter in a very long time, and it felt fantastic. She was in the zone, all power and easy grace that spoke of a woman who had dedicated herself to this sport. Swift, elegant, and fierce, Romeo made her better than she’d been in her prime when she’d train a minimum of five hours a day, six days a week.
She could have done this all night, but after a long, hard sparring session Romeo had other ideas. He caught her ankle after a roundhouse kick and jerked her leg toward
187
him, forcing Jules to hit the mat so violently she sucked in a startled gasp of air, her chest hurting from the force of it.
Jules never had time to recover; Romeo pinned her to the mat before she could rebound. His big hands wrapped around her wrists, holding her immobile. If Jules really wanted to fight, she could have, but she was still very much in tune with him as sensei and if he wanted her flat on the mat, she honored that.
“You did good.” Romeo’s eyes held her attention like twin emerald flames as his gaze ran over her face.
“Yeah?” she wheezed, still fighting for breath after her fall.
“Amazing,” Romeo confirmed, his gaze still holding her captive. “I can see why you were on the Olympic team.”
Drenched in sweat, panting from the exertion, she let out a broken laugh. “I don’t think I fought that well on the Olympic team.”
“I’m sure you did,” Romeo said confidently. He released one of her hands to cup her face, his thumb rubbing over her bottom lip. “Thank you for giving this to me. I needed it. You make me remember what I used to be.”
“What you used to be?” Jules asked, breathless for a different reason as he continued to caress her lips.
“Centered. Calm,” Romeo whispered, making it sound like he was confessing something dark. “Less bitter and a lot less angry. Karate used to be my only escape from the regret until I met you.”
“Tell me what happened to make you so angry,” Jules asked, her heart aching from the pain in his voice. “Why are you bitter? Why’d you stop playing by the rules when you’re so good at them?”
Romeo kissed her instead of answering. His tongue swept in, tasting her, captivating her, and Jules forgot the secrets that still welled up between them. A prison record, a connection to the mafia that was evident to anyone who knew what the last 188
name Moretti represented. Jules knew his brothers were related to and likely involved on some level with the powerful crime family, but none of that seemed to matter right now.
Not when Romeo was over her, still radiating that focused power she knew for a fact he’d never used in MMA. His matches in the cage were different, coming from a dark, furious part of his soul where anger fueled the fires and ego hungered for defeat.
Clay would have never been able to take down the fighter over her now. With his elegant speed and graceful movements that came from the desire to push and guide, rather than beat his opponent. This man was untouchable. A rare, purer side to Romeo’s soul that resonated deeply with Jules and tapped into something within her she hadn’t known existed until now.
Surrendering to him was easy. Jules let him guide her in their lovemaking just like he’d guided her with the sparring. Their usual rash passion was replaced with something more deliberate and humbling as Romeo stripped off her gi and helped her out of her sports bra and panties.
Then he stood up in front of her, slowly untying his belt, and Jules couldn’t resist.
She got up on her knees and took the belt out of his hand, laying it over her own uniform before she splayed her hands over his muscular chest, feeling the warmth of his skin and the steady, dependable rhythm of his heartbeat. She parted the white cotton material as she pressed her lips to his stomach, worshipping the man he should have been if life hadn’t made him bitter and angry.
She forced his gi top past his shoulders and then down his arms. She tossed it aside, still kissing and licking his beautiful olive skin. He wore judo pants with the elastic waistband, and she wanted to tug them down to reveal his cock straining for freedom, but he didn’t offer and she didn’t ask. Her arms wrapped around him, holding Romeo to her as she loved him, but still she waited for him to give her what she really wanted to taste and savor.