I don’t want just a quick fuck with Mila. I’m not sure yet what I want, but I know I want more than friends.
“It’s all about being aware of your surroundings.” I move to the center of the cage, and stand in front of her. “When you’re out alone, you need to behave confidently…and you should always have a strategy.”
“I bet,” she huffs. She rolls her shoulders, loosening them up, bouncing from one foot to the other like she’s preparing for a fight.
I quirk my brow, chuckling at her enthusiasm.
She pulls the clip from her hair and chucks it to the ground, letting her silky dark mane flow loosely down her back. The image of me clutching her hair as I pound her from behind has my cock twitching in my shorts.
I clear my throat, which sounds more like a grunt, and look away. “Hang on a second. My phone is still in my pocket.” I turn around quickly, trying to adjust my hard-on. I walk to the corner where my shoes are, and lay my phone down next to them.
Before I turn back around, I catch Mila’s tiny body out of the corner of my eye, launching at me. She pounces on my back like a monkey hugging a tree, placing me in a chokehold.
I don’t know how she does it, still hanging on to my neck with that tiny frame of hers, but next thing I know, she’s maneuvering her petite body over my shoulder. Somehow, she takes my ginormous body to my knees before I even have time to blink.
I land flat on my back, and she ends up straddling my chest. “You should always be aware of your surroundings.” She smirks, pinning my arms to the mat.
Well, damn.
We work through a few minutes of sparring, and I teach her effective routines to practice against all kinds of threats. I give up after about ten minutes. The wicked gleam in her eye tells me she’s messing with me. She’s obviously done this before.
“You’re just fucking with me now,” I hiss, barely avoiding a knee to the groin. “I’m done.”
“Aww…come on...I was just starting to have fun,” she giggles.
“I need to keep the boys safe.” I cover my hand over my family jewels, forcing her to laugh. “I’m guessing you’ve taken some classes.”
“A few.” She winks, walking over and exiting the cage. “Come on…now I want to show you something.”
I follow behind her as she darts up the stairs, taking them two by two until she reaches the top. She heads to the break room, and I trail behind her, wondering what the hell she’s doing.
“What?” I say, observing her curiously as she takes a photo off the wall and hands it to me. “Zane The Hitman Kali. He was my favorite boxer. So what?”
She stares at me for a moment. “He’s my dad.” She smiles proudly.
“What?”
“Zane was my father,” she confesses, and I don’t miss the shimmer in her eyes. “He taught me how to fight.”
She plops down on the ratty old sofa I stuck in the break room after I got the new one for my office. Still holding the picture, she stares at it with a sentimental gleam in her eyes.
“The Hitman was a great boxer.” I slouch down next to her. I drape my arm over the back and play with a lock of her hair.
“He was a great man.” She crosses her arms over her chest, hugging the picture.
“He really was your father? I can’t believe it.” I shake my head. “Why didn’t you tell me? He’s my all-time favorite boxer. I barely remember, but I met him once when I was a kid when he came into the gym. I was so disappointed when he retired. He was at the top of his game.” I ramble on like a starstruck boy.
“He quit…because of me,” she says in a shaky voice. “I was nine when my mom died of cancer. He was heavyweight champ by then. The Hitman hung up his gloves…to raise me. He tried to be a good dad, but he was so broken-hearted…the drinking increased. He did the best he could, but all he knew was boxing from a young age. I was practically raised in a gym by a bunch of loud, sweaty Neanderthals…but I always came first…he always made sure I was taken care of.”
“Makes sense now,” I chuckle. “You’ve got some pretty mad skills.”
“A lot of good it did.” Her smile fades. “You need to be able to use those skills when it calls for them.” She stares down at the photo with sorrow.
She lifts her head back up and gazes at me with shiny, doe eyes, drawing her lower lip between her teeth. I can’t resist tucking a loose hair behind her ear. I just need to touch her.
Her mouth parts as my lips hover close to hers, and the seconds feel like hours. “I’ve wanted to do this since we met,” I murmur, waiting for her to back away. She doesn’t.
She leans forward, and our lips finally touch. It’s electric. The kiss is smooth and tender, yet full of emotion, laced with desire. Her lips are sweet, like I knew they’d be. Now that I’ve had a taste, I want more.
My fingers slide through her hair, grasping the back of her neck so I can pull her toward me. My tongue traces over her bottom lip to gain access.
She breaks the kiss and slaps me.
Stunned, I blink open my eyes and lift my finger to my cheek. My dick is hard, and my heart is hammering in my chest. I let out a nervous chuckle. I mean, what was that? She just slapped me. Not a hard slap. More like a tentative slap. I barely felt it but…
Her lips crash back onto mine, and my eyes fall closed. She steals my breath away. This time, it’s a deep sensual kiss. This time I don’t let the opportunity pass as I slip my tongue past her lips. She allows the invasion.
The kiss intensifies as she sinks into me. My big hands grip her hips, pulling her breasts close against my chest. She lets out a soft moan and twines her fingers through my hair as her tongue tangles with mine, slow and seductively.
It’s a hot, wild swell, like a wave of lips and tongues and teeth surging rapidly. I’m about to lift her and carry her upstairs when it ends as fast as it began. Mila places her hands on my chest, and we break apart, both of us breathing heavy.
Her cheeks are flushed, her lips swollen, and her eyes are full of emotion. “I can’t,” she says softly. “I’m sorry.” She jumps off the couch, slamming the old picture of her father on the break room table a little too hard, fracturing the glass on the cheap dollar store frame.
My heart hammers in my chest as I sit alone, allowing it time to calm down. I should have known kissing Mila wouldn’t quench my desire. All it did was fuel the flame burning inside me.
I contemplate going upstairs to make sure she’s okay. But I think she needs her space. Instead, I head to my office and pour myself a strong drink.
What is it about her? Mila has my stomach all tied up in knots. I hope I didn’t blow my chance. I sink into my chair, letting the whiskey burn the back of my throat. I lean my head back and sigh. She’s the most interesting woman I’ve ever met. She’s beautiful, smart, and funny. She’s fucking incredible, and I’m falling for this woman. Hard.
One thing I do know, I don’t give up. I’m not going to be happy until she’s mine.
Every fighter needs a good game plan. The harder the opponent, the sweeter the triumph. I have a feeling Mila is going to be one tough challenge.
“I’m coming for you, Angel.”