She cuddles closer and tucks her head under my chin. “You can’t blame a girl, and you’re the one that’s doing the beating most of the time. Besides. We both know you fight better if you have an audience.”
“Is that right?” I ask, rolling us so that she’s underneath me. This is my favorite place to have her. When she’s close, she’s safe. When I can feel every inch of her and know that she’s whole.
“Your muscles like it when I watch,” she says, teasing. “I think they like me.”
“They do like you,” I confirm. “Absolutely.”
She groans. “I don’t want to go to work today.”
“I don’t want that either. I have a completely free schedule today.” I brush my lips across hers. “You could call in sick.”
Sadie raises an eyebrow. “Given that I was perfectly healthy yesterday, and that the whole world knows your training regimen thanks to that Men’s Fitness article, they’re going to figure it out.”
I laugh. “What do you mean? You have a problem with people figuring out that you’re taking a day off for sex?”
“Is that what you think we’ll be doing all day?”
Dragging my lips across her collarbone, I feel her shiver. “I do think that. Here’s my proposal.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’ll let the dogs out, and then I’ll spend some time worshipping your fucking perfect body. Then I’ll make you breakfast,” I say. “After that, we can shower. Together, if you like. Maybe have a little downtime before I eat you for lunch. And dinner. And dessert.”
She groans. “You’re really tempting me.”
“Give in.”
“I can’t. You know I can’t.”
I kiss the bottom of her jaw. “What if I come to the studio with you and fuck you right after you come off the set.”
Sadie bites her lip. “You know when I was supposed to interview you? I had to do research, and I saw the video of one of your fights. I had this fantasy about you in the locker room, high on victory.”
My morning wood turns into a full-on boner. I’ve never been with a woman wo could make me so hard. I know exactly what she means. After winning a fight, you’re filled with adrenaline and endorphins, and there’s nothing that you want more than to just feel like you own the whole world. Fucking her after a win would be the greatest fuck of my life. “Fuck.”
“I have to go to work,” she says softly. “But that doesn’t mean that you can’t fuck me before I go.”
I kiss her, teasing her lips open before edging her legs apart. “Dogs,” she whispers.
Sighing, I pull away from her. “Come on pups,” I call. “Everybody out.”
They go without making a fuss, used to me and Sadie locking them out for periods of time. As soon as I close the door, I’m back with her, drowning her in kisses that are growing more and more fiery and desperate.
“I love you,” I tell her. “So fucking much.”
“Even though I can’t call in sick for sex?”
“Yes,” I laugh. “Even then.”
She arches her body up into mine, teasing me in the way that she knows drives me crazy. “It’s still early,” she says. “We might be able to have sex and breakfast.”
“If I can’t have you for lunch, then maybe I’ll just have to have you for my breakfast. But I’ll still make you pancakes.”
Sadie laughs, a lovely, bubbling sound. “I love you. Thank you for saving me.”
She’s said that to me a lot since she was taken, and every time I tell her the same thing. “You don’t need me to save you. But I’ll save you every time you need me to.”
“Always?” she asks.
“Always.”
And I kiss her.
Epilogue
Sadie
Six Months Later
The referee lifts Jon’s arm into the air in victory, and the entire crowd goes wild. His winning streak is intact, still undefeated in every fight.
This one was harder than the others, and there were moments when I thought he might go down. But every time he turned the tides, focusing and pulling back until he regained control. It was masterful to watch, and so, so fucking sexy.
Attending fights is something different for me, but I’ve learned to embrace the adrenaline and energy in the arena. It’s sometimes hard to watch him take hits, but he gave more than he took. And watching him win is well worth it. Especially now that the lights in the arena sparkle against the brand-new piece of jewelry that decorates my left hand.
Jon took me back to the glass pavilion on the mountain, which I now know is on property that is owned by Frank. I owe him my life too. He helped orchestrate my rescue with Jon, and now that I am seeing him nearly every day when Jon trains, I know him a lot better. He is a good guy.
Up in the ring, the ref is turning Jon around to every side of the venue. When they face me, he smiles, a huge grin despite the fact that he is clearly out of breath. Exhausted after a hard fight. But I hope that he isn’t too exhausted. Because today I made arrangements to make the fantasy that we both have come true.
Without giving too many details to Jeremy, I made it so the post-fight press conference is delayed by a half-hour. It isn’t much time, but this isn’t about long and slow. This is about raw and hard and fast.
I smirk up at my fiancé, very intentionally turning and walking away as he watches. Let him wonder where I’m going. Let him get curious.
Under my clothes I’m wearing strappy black lingerie—the kind that doesn’t cover anything and leaves everything accessible. It is for looks alone.
As soon as I hit the locker room, I start to strip. I’m not going to waste precious time with him getting my clothes off. I want him inside me as fast as possible. I’ve been imagining this for months.
I lean against the lockers, waiting, and I don’t have to wait long. The door opens and shuts, and Jon strides in. It takes a moment for him to see me, and in that moment I get a gorgeous eyeful. No shirt, he’s covered in sweat and flushed with victory, his shorts hang low on his hips. My eyes follow the cut lines of his hipbones down beneath his waistband.
That’s what I want.
“Hey,” I say.
He startles, and then does a double take when he sees me standing there in nothing but black lines and lace. I watch his eyes go dark. “You planned this?”
“I had Jeremy push the press conference thirty minutes.”
“Does he know why?”
I bite my lip and shake my head. “I didn’t tell him.”
Jon strides toward me, hands landing on the lockers on either side of my head. “I don’t have any condoms. Do you?”
Again, I shake my head. “I don’t want any.”
He bends to kiss my neck, nibbling kisses along my skin until he reaches the strap of my bra. “Really?”
“I just want you.”
Jon pushes his shorts down his hips and steps out of them, already hard, just like I’d hoped. He leans in to kiss me but I dodge his mouth by sinking to my knees in front of him. Before he can say a word, I take him in my mouth, and he rewards me with a groan so raw that it makes me wet.