by Emma Nichole
I don’t push. I don’t ask about the argument. It’s not my business, really, so I opt for distraction because that sullen look on his face tells me that’s what he needs right now.
“If you don’t have plans today, I was going to run some errands and could use some muscle to help me out. Know anyone who could assist?”
“Is there compensation?” His voice slides over my skin and makes me tingle at the thought of exactly what I’d like the compensation to be.
“After the job is complete, we can have a discussion as to what I feel you’ve earned in regards to payment for your time.” I tilt my head with a smile. “So…you in?”
“Not in yet, baby, but I have a feeling I’ll be very in something by the end of the day.”
I shake my head and laugh, playing it off, but honestly, hearing him say things like that to me makes my body physically weep with pleasure and need.
“I don’t know,” I say, with a flip of my hair. “I could be sick of you.”
He tosses his head back and laughs, but it isn’t as full of life as it has been before. He’s carrying something heavy on his shoulders and it hurts me to see.
“We’ll see about that.” He rises from his seat and steps down the stairs toward me. He stops one step up so he towers over me more than normal. “So do I have the job?”
He cups my face in his hands and glides his thumb over my bottom lip, pulling an involuntary shiver from my body.
“You’re hired.”
***
The drive from my house to the grocery store passed with his hand on my thigh, the windows down, and the two of us simply talking about our favorite movies.
I’m flabbergasted he’s never seen Pretty Woman and he is impressed I understand the magnificence of Reservoir Dogs. We both hate westerns and have an affection for musicals. He says it’s because his mother loved them, so it was instilled in him at an early age, and he continued appreciating them because they make him feel close to her.
The more he speaks, the more I learn about him; the more I want to learn everything. I want to know his favorite color and food. He fascinates me. He’s so kind and tender. You’d never think that if you looked at him on the base level. He’s beautiful, stunning even, sexy, and between the way he makes me feel with his words and the way he makes me feel with his cock, I just want to—
“Earth to Faith.”
His voice pulls me out of my thoughts that I absolutely shouldn’t be having in the middle of the produce section.
“Hmm? What? Sorry. Yes. Avocados are needed. Lots of them.” I take a breath then turn my attention back to the task at hand.
“What has you so distracted?” he asks, as he examines the produce like he’s done this a time or two.
“Just going over my list in my head,” I lie.
“Is the detailed one you have here not good enough?” He points to my notebook propped in the shopping cart.
“It’s perfectly fine, thank you very much. I like to be efficient when I shop. It saves time and money.”
“It also makes you a nerd. You color-coded your list by type of food, Faith. You’re a nerd.”
I reach across and poke him in the side. “I’m proud of that.”
“Proud of the fact you’re a nerd? Good. I’m glad. I have a thing for nerds.”
I roll my eyes. “Somehow, I find that hard to believe.” I squeeze a few avocados, looking for the ones that will ripen on my counter, because everyone knows there is like a thirty-minute lifespan for these damn things.
“Why is that hard to believe?” He wraps his hands over the cart handle and leans his weight into it, slightly bending at the waist.
“I mean, with girls like the one who was texting you the other day throwing themselves at your feet, I don’t think you’d settle for a normal girl. That’s all.” I shove a few of my produce selections into the provided plastic bags and place them in the cart then we keep walking.
“I’m normal too, you know? The rest is just…confetti. Extras that make everything seem amazing and fun, but deep down, it’s all just average.”
“Do you ever get sick of the confetti?” I stare down at my list before pausing at the grapes.
“Yes and no. It’s fun, obviously, and the money certainly doesn’t hurt, but the travel is exhausting. The politics of it all start to take a toll too.”
I think back to what Case said about Falcon being hurt, so I do what any nosey girl does, I fish.
“And what about your body? Surely it can’t sustain that kind of pressure for very long.” I don’t look at him. I focus on what I’m doing, so maybe he’ll be comfortable enough to answer me.
“Has my sister gotten to you?” he asks, as he reaches around and plucks a grape from the bunch I’m shoving into a bag.
“Hey! That’s stealing.” I swat his hands away playfully. “And I have no idea what you’re talking about.” That’s not technically a lie. “Why?”
“She and I got into a heated conversation this morning about that very thing, so I was curious if she’d mentioned it to you.”
“Why would she mention it to me?”
“Well, I don’t know…” He slides his hand through his hair and scratches the back of his neck. “Because you and I are…whatever we are.”
“Since we are whatever we are, should I know why she would fight with you about it?” I ask.
“I mean, it’s nothing really, but I’ve had a couple of blows to the head over the years, and my doctor seems to think I should consider putting an end to my fighting career.”
He says it so nonchalantly, as if it’s not a big thing, and doesn’t even matter in the least. Like it’s a minor road bump in his path, and that, in and of itself, is enough to know it’s a huge deal.
“That doesn’t sound like nothing to me. Multiple concussions can…”
He cuts me off with a hand raised. “I know. I know. I’ve heard it all before. Trust me.”
I look down and clear my throat, nodding. “Okay. Then I won’t say a thing.”
I feel his hand curl around my arm, and I slightly stiffen for just a moment, my mind taking over for a sliver of an instant, before I relax into him.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I shouldn’t have cut you off and certainly not like that.”
“It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize, because at the end of the day, it’s not my business. I shouldn’t have pried.”
I turn toward him after he pulls, guiding me around.
“You were just asking questions. I’m on the defensive today, after this morning with my sister. That’s not your fault.”
“I just want to know about you, Falcon. That’s all. I feel comfortable with you, safe, and I hope you feel the same with me.”
It’s true. I do feel a sanctuary with him. He makes me want to face my demons head on and battle them until they are dust in the wind.
The hopeless romantic in me wants the same for him in return.
“I do. I know it’s crazy and I know we really just met, but I feel this spark when we are together, and I’m a selfish man who doesn’t want to give that up yet.”
“I feel it too,” I admit.
“Good.” He places a kiss to my forehead. “Let’s finish your shopping then go have some lunch. I’ll tell you all you want to know about my injuries.”
We unpack my groceries in relative silence, except for the occasional question from him about where I keep certain things. We move around each other easily, comfortably, which is something I can’t help but notice.
There is no awkwardness, no tension…nothing except calm.
I close the fridge after sliding the milk into the shelf on the door and turn to lean my back against it. “That’s by far my least favorite errand.”
“Grocery shopping?” he asks.
“No. Putting the groceries away. I hate it almost as much as I hate laundry. Actually, that’s not true. I’d rather gouge my eyes out than fold clothes,” I say with a giggle.
“That was very…graphic.” He chuckles with wide eyes.
“But it got my point across, didn’t it?”
“Very much so.”
“Mission accomplished.” I push off the fridge and step toward the table. “Okay, lunch. What are you feeling?”
“I’m in the South. Feed me Southern food. What more could I ask for?”
A smile spreads over my face. “I know just the place.”
Falcon
“You have some sauce on your face,” I tell her, as I sink my teeth into the most delicious barbeque ribs I’ve ever had in my life.
“Where?” she asks, licking her lips in the most adorable way, which is only amplified by the fact that there is a smear of sauce dotting the tip of her nose. She wipes a napkin across her mouth. “Did I get it?”
“Not quite.” I reach across the table and slide my thumb over her skin, taking the sauce with me. I don’t even hesitate before putting my thumb into my mouth and sucking the sweet and spicy sauce away.
I can see her body shiver afterward, and I’d be lying if I said that fact doesn’t make the caveman inside of me beat his chest. Honestly, I have to physically stop myself from tossing her over my shoulder and carrying her off to the nearest private area.
She must feel it too, because she shifts a bit in her seat, clears her throat then changes the subject. “So, want to talk about what happened with Nora?” She takes another bite of her food and waits for my answer.
I lean back in the booth and release a heavy breath. “When I started fighting, it was on the underground circuit. Back alleyways, parking lots in the middle of the night, warehouses, stuff like that. Fights aren’t nearly as regulated there as they are in the professional circuit. I wasn’t good at first, obviously. I took some blows to the head. Broke some bones. Had some back and shoulder trouble. Spine trouble. When I got picked up by my agent, and eventually signed with the WFC, I was able to get treatment and help with any residual shit that my early days caused.”
“And now? Is it coming back to bite you in the ass?”
“You could say that. I’ve been having migraines. Bad ones, actually, and my doctor seems to think it’s related to my profession. One too many bumps to the head. His words.”
“What does he think could happen if you keep fighting?” She looks at me, really looks at me. She’s interested in what I have to say and has genuine concern in her eyes, but it’s different. Her eyes aren’t full of expectation. She isn’t going to tell me to stop. She isn’t going to guilt me. She just wants to listen.
Not like my sponsors, who wonder if they’ll be looking for a new fighter to wear their fucking logo on their trunks.
“He’s worried it could cause problems down the line. Memory loss, mood swings, and if I get hit hard enough, there could be trouble with my spine.” I rattle the things off quickly, as if they mean nothing and are nothing.
“Jesus.” She reaches over and places her hand on mine. “That sounds terrifying.”
I slide my thumb along hers softly, enjoying the feeling of her skin on mine.
“It can be, but everyone who plays a contact sport deals with this, right? I don’t see why what I do is any different than playing football.”
“Well, they have on thick helmets and lots of pads. You’re basically naked.”
I laugh. “I absolutely do not fight other men while basically naked and sweaty.”
“Hey, you added in the sweaty part, not me. You took it there.” She smiles and my chest tightens. Christ she’s pretty.
“I have a plan in place, I think, for where I want to go with my career. I just want to finish strong then cross that bridge when I get to it.”
“But will you be safe?”
I smirk. “Care about me, do you?”
“Okay, Yoda.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m a human with feelings and I’m quite fond of you.”
“What a coincidence. I’m fond of you too.”
She gives my hand a squeeze then pulls hers back to her lap. “Speaking of fighting, will we be going back into the gym soon? If I only have you for a short amount of time, I’d like to take full and frequent advantage.”
I place my hand on my chest and groan. “I’m going to hope you meant that in a dirty way, and we can go tomorrow if you want. Any time, really. I’m wide open.”
“Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t.” She pulls her wallet out of her purse. “Tomorrow is great.”
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. What do you think you’re doing?”
She looks at me like I’ve sprouted an extra head. “Um, I’m paying for lunch.”
“What makes you think you can just pay for my lunch?”
“Well, Caveman, the fact I’m an independent, modern woman with a full-time job tells me I can do whatever the hell I want, and right now what I want is to treat you to lunch. So, if you don’t mind, put your ego away and say thank you.”
Fuck me sideways. Wow.
This girl is a fucking treasure and I want to ravage her right here, right now.
I raise my hands in defeat. “Yikes. If you insist.”
“Oh, I do. I really do.”
Chapter 14
Falcon
Waking with yet another steel poker in my skull is not how the start of this day was billed, but I won’t let that stop me from going about my day as I want. Ibuprofen didn’t cut it though, so four Excedrin Migraines and two bottles of water later, I almost feel human again.
I couldn’t secure the room with the sparring mats in the back of the gym until the evening. When I told Faith we’d have to wait until the end of the day to train, she told me that worked perfectly because she and her friend, Rose, always take a class there and she would just have to change from one outfit to another. Whatever that means.
The gym itself doesn’t fit the typical stereotype of a building you’d find in the historical southern states. Everything here, that I’ve seen so far, is old, but well kept. This building, however, is brand-new and very modern with its clean lines and glass walls.
The lobby is in the center and from there; multiple glass hallways extend out like spokes on a wheel, leading to different areas of the gym.
I haven’t gotten the chance to really explore yet to see the different amenities that they offer, and the workout fiend in me is curious.
I check the time on my phone and see I have at least fifteen minutes until I’m supposed to meet Faith in the back, so I head down the farthest glass walkway on my right.
I pass by multiple doors, ones you have to access by keycard if you’ve signed up for use of services in there, and most of them are empty, save a few people doing yoga or using the stationary bikes.
I can hear a low bass line slipping through the glass from a room down on the very end, and it pulls me forward, mostly out of pure curiosity.
I stop at the glass window so I can see into the room, and I almost lower my head to avert my eyes out of respect, but a little blonde pixie I’ve been dying to get my hands on again holds my attention.
As if a higher being was doing me a solid, I have a perfect, unobstructed view of Faith from where I’m standing.
She’s in a room with roughly ten or twelve other ladies, all of which are rolling their hips to the music and making very good use of the shiny, silver poles in front of them.
Pole dancing class.
Nora has talked about this before, but I literally cover my ears like a child and say “La la la la” until she stops talking about it so I don’t have to bleach my brain.
But watching Faith? That’s something I could do all day, every day.
Christ, I’m making a habit of spying on her, but I can’t help it.
She moves with grace and sex appeal, dressed in her black short shorts and plain white tank top, sans shoes, giving me a clear view of her delicate little feet and her stunning thigh tattoo that I still want to explore with my tongue.
And maybe I will as soon as I get her alone.
She is looking ahead,
I’m assuming at an instructor, and then she curls her leg around the pole and swings around it gracefully before climbing a bit higher and leaning back, nearly upside down and arching, contorting her body into a shape I can’t even name. It shows off her flexibility and her body. My God.
My cock is growing uncomfortably hard underneath my basketball shorts.
Faith eases herself back to the ground then sinks to her knees, wiggling her body to the bass line, sliding her hands up until they extend above her head. She grips the pole again and moves to her feet, doing one last spin as the music rolls to a close.
She looks at someone on her left that I’m not able to see and a bright smile breaks out over her face. Her cheeks are flushed from the workout and I can just make out the sheen of sweat dotting her forehead. It’s a familiar sight that doesn’t help the hard cock situation I’ve got going on over here.
I step to the side and lean against the wall, looking down at my phone as if I wasn’t just staring at Faith without her knowledge…again, as the group of ladies makes their way toward the doors.
Faith is one of the last to leave and her friend, Rose, is right on her heels.
“Psst,” I say, and smile when she turns toward me.
“Hi!” she exclaims, her voice going high. She’s excited to see me. Just as excited as I am to see her.
“Hi,” I say back, matching her smile then my eyes turn to her friend who has joined her at her side. “Rose. It’s good to see you again.”
“Likewise,” she replies, resting her elbow up on Faith’s shoulder. “What brings you by?”
“I’m here to get some time on the mat with Faith,” I tell her.
“You knew that, Rose.” Faith rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
“I know,” Rose says, “I just like hearing him talk.”
“I like her,” I tell Faith. “She understands the magic that is me.”
“Wow, your ego is shining bright today, huh?” says Faith.
“Isn’t it always?” I nod toward the room they just came from. “Good workout in there?”