by Shey Stahl
“So, then you put him into that assisted living center?”
He nodded, setting his empty container on the coffee table next to my food. “It’s better that way. Now he gets the care he needs.”
Destry’s mood shifted, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the television. My attention wasn’t on the movie. It was on this man next to me and how he got to be this reserved and closed off. There was so much more to him.
“One woman fucked you up, didn’t she?”
Oh God, why did I ask that?
Destry sat back against the couch as he ran his hands through his hair considering my question. “You could say that.”
Bringing my legs up, I rested my chin on my knees, hugging my legs to my body. “That Stella girl?”
The mention of her name caused him to flinch. The words seemed to hang there in the air, and for a brief moment, I wanted to take them back. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned her.
“We got together when she was fourteen and I was sixteen. She was my first everything and was there for me through it all. Never once did I fuck around on her. Never. I had so many opportunities to.” He shrugged, his breathing heavier than before, and it seemed as if his confession about her was difficult for him to admit. “Then she fucked me over. I mean, I gave her everything a girl like her could ever dream of having, and she threw all that away, for what? Another fighter who’d treat her the same way?”
Dropping my eyes to my hands, I contemplated how closely I could relate to him. “I know exactly how that goes.”
“Yeah, I bet you do.”
Ordinarily, I’d say he was being rude by the way his words were clipped short or condescending, but he wasn’t. He was being sincere.
“I… I can’t blame her for leaving. I was a dick and I wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. That part I don’t blame her for. What I do blame her for was how she did it, and when.”
I lifted my eyes back to his. “At your fight?”
“Yep. She walked out the moment I was knocked out. In front of everyone.” He shifted his position on the couch and leaned toward me. “The thing is, I fight for what I love. I would have fought for her. But she never gave me the chance. She gave up on us long before that fight.”
There was an intense part of the movie, a fight scene with Rocky and another guy that caught Destry’s eyes, causing him to move away from me, his eyes returning to the movie.
I watched the scene, the intensity of two fighters committed in a dance. “Why did you give up boxing?”
“I didn’t give up.” He shook his head, glancing away from the television, but not at me directly. “I didn’t quit. I didn’t retire. I’m waiting for my time to prove them wrong.”
I wanted him to prove them wrong. “I’ve heard people say you threw the fight… lost on purpose…. Did you?”
Fuck. Why’d I ask that?
His eyes snapped to mine, as if he too couldn’t believe I asked that. He hesitated before answering. “People have their theories. Everyone thinks I gave up all because I lost the title. That’s not true. I didn’t. I… I walked away to give myself time to find me.” He swallowed and cleared his throat. “I was a child when I started boxing. Somewhere along the way, I forgot why I loved boxing and was doing it for a purse.”
It wasn’t lost on me he never directly answered the question, but I didn’t expect him to. “And have you?” I pressed, my throat going dry from asking such personal questions. “Have you found that reason?”
I was beginning to understand that when Destry spoke, his words were chosen carefully and said with patience. Sometimes he’d take these long pauses before speaking to find exactly what he wanted to say. I didn’t know people who have the ability to do that.
He smiled softly and then regarded me, giving me a wink. “I’d say I’m closer than I was four weeks ago.”
I smiled too, hoping that meant me. My eyes drifted around his bare apartment again and I wondered why he didn’t have any photographs around. I wasn’t exactly close with my family, only because they drove me nuts half the time. And I knew from my research Destry was an only child like myself, but I wasn’t sure if he had anyone close to him. “Do you have any family besides your dad?”
“I have Danny,” his replied, then snorted as if Danny was family but not one he liked to recognize.
Through an awkward conversation one night with Danny, while I waited for Destry, he told me about Wes Callahan, Destry’s childhood best friend, but he left out a lot of details. Danny was good at telling everyone’s business, but his own.
“And Wes Callahan, was he your trainer?” I prodded.
“No. Adam’s my trainer. That guy who’s always there in the ring with me. Wes… he….” His eyes drifted to mine. I could tell by his gritty voice that he was either annoyed or curious as to how exactly I knew about Wes. He started to say something and then cleared his throat. “He used to be my manager. And my best friend. I’d known him since I was a smartass kid.”
“You’re still a smartass.” I laughed. “But what happened between you guys?”
Destry’s brow scrunched as he scratched the side of his face with the back of his hand. “How do you even know about Wes?”
My heart started pounding. Shit. Maybe Danny wasn’t supposed to tell me. “Danny told me that he used to be your manager.”
He nodded. “Well, last year after my fight with Ray Lucas, he took about two-hundred grand from me and I haven’t seen him since.”
“Jesus, Danny didn’t say anything like that.”
“Wes is gonna need Jesus when I find him, and Danny needs to keep his fucking mouth shut and mind his own goddamn business.”
“What’s with him anyways?”
“Danny?”
“Yeah.”
“Danny’s a fucking loser,” Destry said, his shoulders tensing. “Fucking guy can’t stop betting his life and marriages away. I own that goddamn bar—and his house—and he’s constantly getting in deep. It’d be a blessing if one of those sharks broke his hands so he couldn’t place the bets.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Don’t think I haven’t been tempted to do it myself.”
“So, you’re kind of like, taking care of him?”
“Yeah.” He sighed as though he was carrying a weight on his shoulders. “When my pops got sick, he asked that I look after him. It’s his kid brother and he’d be crushed if anything happened to him. But the guy doesn’t know when to say enough is enough. He’s always trying to get the easy money. Life doesn’t work that way.”
I wanted to lighten the conversation. I had to. He seemed sad. And I could deal with an angry Destry, but not a sad one.
Men showing emotion made me weak. I once saw Jared cry when his dad died two years ago and it about did me in. I think I was more of an emotional wreck than he was.
So, given this state of mind, I blurted, “Did you really know I was in the locker room that night? I’ve been dying to know that.”
Destry gave me a sigh, and nodded. “Yep. When I leaned back against the wall, I saw you.”
My cheeks flushed a bright red as I covered my face with my palms. “I can’t believe you let me watch.”
He gave me a careless shrug, nudging my leg with his knee. “Why not? You enjoyed the view, right? I sure as hell enjoyed having you in my line of sight.”
Holy shit. Swallowing hard, I gave him a nod. Nothing else. Just a nod. I was too scared to say anymore. Knowing me, I’d blurt out something entirely inappropriate.
Destry chuckled and then swooped me up in his arms, making me sit on his lap. “Tell me, did you enjoy watching?”
“It was…” I paused, running my hands over his jaw. “The hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Next thing I knew, he kissed me with the same intensity he always did. Pulling back, he cradled my face in his hands, pushing my hair from my face, deepening the kiss. I was expecting him to say something, but he didn’t. He only stared at me like he was trying t
o rid himself of an emotion.
He stood and set me on my feet and reached for my hand. “Wanna take a shower with me?” His breath hit my neck in the most delicious way. Fuck yeah, I want to take a shower with him again.
“Yes.” I smiled, knowing where this was going.
Especially if it was anything like our last one.
We made it inside his bathroom but then stood there, waiting for the water to warm up.
There were these moments with Destry when he looked at me, he was struggling to maintain that indifference. At times, it wavered. And then he would blink and it was gone, like a flash. Was it even there?
Reaching out, his hands cupped my face. My body responded and leaned into his chest. My hands went to his hips, reaching for the hem of his shirt.
Keeping my eyes locked with his, I pulled his shirt over his head, my hands moving at a dawdling pace. I let the fabric fall to our feet.
He wasn’t as gentle fisting my tank top at my sides. While he moved his hands back to my face, he brought my kiss to his. With my mouth distracted, I slipped my hand inside his shorts to palm his erection.
Already hard, he thrust his hips into my hand. The steam rolled around us but neither of us made an attempt to get in the shower. Apparently, he was frustrated by our lack of movement because he captured my wrist in his hand and jerked it away.
“Get in the fucking shower,” he growled, giving me a light push.
The rest of our clothes were removed quickly, and I was lifted into the shower. I knew where this would lead, but when he was under the spray, I reached for the soap, squirted a generous amount in the palm of my hand and then wrapped my hands around his waist and to his dick that was still hard.
I stroked him once, twice, soapy hands gliding over his hard length, but I hadn’t done any more. He wasn’t happy. “Tallan.” He shook his head, menacing eyes narrowed and raked down my body. “I warned you... I don’t like being teased.”
A sudden bolt of pleasure shot through me, tingling the pit of my stomach. If it meant he showed me a side he never showed anyone, I would tease him over and over again.
That was when he moved to stand behind me, nudging my legs apart with his legs. Distracting me with wet seductive kisses over my shoulders, he bent forward, grasping both my wrists, and placing them on the wall of the shower.
I turned to look over my shoulder at him when he entered me, moving slowly at first, his jaw clenched.
My cheek was pressed into the tile, my breasts slapping against it. Water sprayed my face as Destry frantically pounded into me. I couldn’t be sure, but the way my breath expelled and the urge to moan like crazy, I bet everyone in his apartment complex could hear me. Destry wasn’t any quieter.
Gliding his hands across my ass, his thumb pressed at my rear entrance. “Let me?”
Oh. Uh.
Fuck yes!
“Do you have any… lube?”
Destry didn’t meet my eyes but he pulled out and moved the shower curtain aside to lean over the sink beside the shower. I watched his muscles as he fought to keep himself steady while digging through the drawers under the sink.
He found what he was looking for and then smiled. “This should work.”
It was Vaseline. Hmmm. I gave a nod, trying to erase the memory of the last time I did this. Surely Destry would know what he was doing back there. What the fuck was I getting myself into?
Dipping two fingers into the container, he placed a quarter-sized amount of Vaseline on him. I’d straightened out by then, standing beside him, my hands on my hips when he smacked my ass. “Turn around.”
I did as he said, placing my hands back on the tile wall. That seemed to please him. His body hunched over mine as he slid his hardness up and down against the crack of my ass, once, twice, I moaned.
“That’s it, baby,” he growled. “Do as I say.”
He’s so dirty and I love it. Fucking love it.
He pulled back after kissing the side of my neck. Teasing me, he slid his dick back and forth. I shuddered out a breath when he got the tip in.
“Oh God….”
“So fucking tight.” His arms tightened around my hips, another tangled in my hair, forcing my head back slightly.
I couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t as rough when he entered me, slowly sliding inside a hole I used to be adamant was an exit only.
I found my breath again, only I slipped when my footing shifted, and my hips pushed back until the cheeks of my ass met his hips. His body slumped forward at the shift, all the way sheathed inside me and pushing deeper. I stretched around his hard length and it burned.
It was painful, but my body screamed with sensations I’d never experienced before. Forcing myself to relax, that’s when it started to feel good. That burning started to fade and though it wasn’t great, it wasn’t horrible.
Destry glided his left hand over my thigh and between my legs, trying to relieve my discomfort. “Just relax.” I think he could tell I was in pain as my body trembled. “If you relax, it will feel good. I promise you.”
“Is this the pleasurable pain you spoke of?” I twisted my head over my shoulder to look back at him, water immediately blinding me.
He considered that for a moment. The gaze he let loose on me was penetrating, much like any other gaze I got from him. “Part of it.”
Part of it? Is there more?
His grip on my hip tightened, his body shuddering in response. Abruptly, his hand moved between my legs, easily sliding along my clit, twisting, circling.
Oh, yeah. Right there.
The man knew how to work his hands. It was the force of his hips, the way he stretched me, made me feel things I’d never ever experienced before. In all honestly, it made me lose my fucking mind. And say things I wouldn’t ordinarily say. Like…
“Fuck me, Destry. Fuck me hard!”
Who am I? What the hell has happened to me?
He slammed into me, restraint obliterated, harder than before, my head hitting the tile wall. He lifted his right leg up and propped it against the edge of the tub for leverage and goddamn did he fuck me. I forgot all about that pain. All that remained was the raw need for this man.
“Come for me,” he whispered, thrusting into me again.
His grunts, my moans, and the sounds of wet skin slapping against each other filled the room. Steam floated around us as my orgasm shook through me.
The desperation in his grip on my hip increased as he pounded into me, chasing his own orgasm. “I’m… gonna come.” His voice was strained, barely audible. “Do you want me to pull out?”
I shook my head. “No,” I moaned, “come inside me.”
The next second, his body jerked forward and bent over me as his orgasm rocked through him.
My body tingled all over. From my toes to the backs of my legs, a soreness set in as he pulled out. I had been fucked.
I was off balance when he slid out, saw stars and was a little faint. I stumbled.
He sighed, his face buried in my neck. “I got you.”
Disentangling myself from him, I stood against the wall as he reached for the soap. Turning to face me, he ran the tips of his fingers over my collarbone and then smiled, one side higher than the other.
Yep. Stella was a fucking idiot for ever leaving this guy.
“That was….” I didn’t have words.
“Amazing?” he finished, a certain amount of pride in his voice.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk tomorrow,” I mumbled, staring down at the water beading on my skin, red marks on my hips from where his grip was.
Destry laughed as he reached for the shampoo and started washing his hair. “That could be arranged.” He winked. “If you’re looking for that sort of thing.”
Say what?
“Did it hurt?” His eyes were kept low, and then lifted to meet mine.
“Yes. It did, but it wasn’t horrible.”
“Have you done that before?” He looked me up and down, his voice a so
ft murmur. I was starting to hate it when he did that. It made me feel like he was searching for answers to questions he wasn’t asking.
“Yes, but it never felt like that.”
He gave a nod, but nothing more.
Kidney punches are illegal in boxing. A hard blow to a kidney can bruise or cut the organ, or even tear it loose from the blood vessels that supply it.
I couldn’t stay. Not that I was assuming he would ever want me to, but I had to get out of there after that shower sex. This was our third time together and it wasn’t getting any easier. I enjoyed sex with him. It was amazing, like nothing I’d ever experienced before.
But was it just sex? When did it end? I hired him for six weeks. And now I was fucking him. Doing it once, I could understand that I was sexually frustrated.
Twice? That was pushing it. Three times? That was a little much.
I hesitated, leaving as I stood by his door, my bag in hand. I think he knew I was having some internal bantering, so he helped me out.
When he leaned in, his lips tenderly brushed mine. “See you tomorrow.” And then he rested his shoulder into the doorframe. Goddamn, why is that stance sexy as hell?
“Yeah, okay, see ya tomorrow.” Spinning around, I left. I had to.
When I made my way back to my apartment, Jared was up, door unlocked, lying on the couch with a beer in one hand and a remote in the other. It was nearing one that morning. Why he was still up was beyond me.
On the verge of tears when I opened the door, and despite dieting, I reached in the freezer and retrieved the container of chocolate ice cream and two spoons.
When I stepped toward the couch, Jared sat up and gave me room. Oh, thank God, he was going to let me cuddle with him and cry on his shoulder. I sat next to him, put my head on his shoulder and handed him a spoon.
He took it. “Rough night?”