Slate laughs, slamming his foot on the floor. “Okay, okay,” he laughs harder, “you win fucker. Get off me.”
“Yeah.” Zeke springs up fists in the air. Like a little kid, he bounces on his feet. His eyes flash to me. “Hey.” He lowers his arms and his cocky smile turns warm and affectionate.
“Hi.” I smile back. I love the way he’s been looking at me these past few days.
Slate’s head tilts back. “Oh hey,” he pushes himself from the mat, “we were just messing around.” He stands up and I barely notice his scars; after getting to know him, you seem to forget all about them. “Thought I’d let him win for once.” He winks, swiping his glove across his forehead.
“That was very nice of you.” I smile, walk over to the door, and enter the cage.
“Let me?” Zeke snorts, jabbing Slate in the arm with his glove. “Yeah, right.”
Slate’s grin widens, and he lightly hits Zeke in the arm. “I’m gonna get showered. Be back in about an hour to help you open up, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Zeke nudges. Slate nods his head at me before leaving the cage.
Zeke walks over and pulls his gloves off, dropping each one on the floor. His arm comes around my waist and he hauls me against his sweaty body. “Hey beautiful,” he says just before his lips melt into mine.
“Hey gorgeous,” I say, pulling away. I beam up at him. He’s really opened up around me. And I must admit, Rayna was right. Zeke Declan is fan-fucking-tastic. I run my hands down his shorts, grab his fine ass, and yank him hard against me.
“Ah,” his arms tighten, “what you think you’re a tough girl or something?”
“I know I am.”
“Yeah,” he arches back and gazes down at me, “you wanna go a round?”
“I’m game.”
He pulls away, bends down, and picks up his gloves. “Here.” He holds one out at me. “I’ll tell you what,” he pushes the glove onto my hand, “if you make contact with my body with either of these gloves,” he slips the other glove on me, “then for next hour, I’ll follow your every command.”
“What if you win?”
“Well, then get whatever I want,” he grins down at me.
“And what do you want?” I look up at him, recalling the last time that I asked him this question.
“As the great Oscar Wilde once said, the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it. And from the moment we met, you have tempted me,” he says, gripping my gloved wrists. “What I want is you,” he pulls me against him.
“You already have that,” I say just before I tip up on my toes and kiss him.
“Then,” he says with a crooked grin. “If I win,” he takes a step back, “you have to ride the lightning.”
“Aright, you’re on.” I smack the gloves together, sounds like a win-win to me. “But didn’t my brother Token tell you that I know how to box a little too.”
“No,” Zeke laughs, “but I ain’t scared.”
“You should be.” I thrust my fist out at him; he darts to the left, and I fall forward. Damn, he’s fast. I right my feet, spin around, and trying to surprise him, I strike again. He sways back, curving his body, and my glove just misses his stomach. I wrench my arm back, step forward, and with everything I got, I throw another punch. Feet remaining in the same place, Zeke shifts to the side and I stumble forward. This time, unable to control my feet, I lose my balance. His arm catches me around my stomach. He pulls my back against him.
His lips brush my ear. “You tryin’ to lose?”
“No.” Somewhat out of breath, I jerk my shoulders to break free.
“I think you are.” His husky laugh tickles my neck. His hand slips into my shirt. He yanks my bra down, and within a flash, his fingers grip my taut nipple. “I think you want to ride the lightning.” His hand moves from my belly into my pants. “Oh yeah,” he reaches my wetness, “that’s what my tough little girl wants.” His finger slips inside of me as he tugs harder on my tight nipple. I drop my head back with a low moan. Under the influence of his skillful hands, I’m defenseless. His warm lips fall upon my shoulder as he holds me firmly to his body, finger fucking me and pinching my sore nipple. He’s in control. “You ready to give up,” he whispers, his warm breath searing my neck.
“Never,” I arch back, turn my head, and look up into his eyes. “I’ll never give up when it comes to you. So,” I grin up at him, “are you ready to fight?”
His hand moves upward from my breast, gripping my neck. His other hand slides up from my pants around my waist, and not breaking eye contact, he turns me around to face him. “Yes. I’m ready.” His thumb caresses my chin. “Ready to fight for you.” He leans in, kisses me, and within a few minutes, I’m blissfully riding the lightning.