Redemption

by Shey Stahl

  And I want to lick every single square inch of your delicious tight body.

  “Fine. Take your dress off.” Destry moved, shifting his stance and crossing his arms over his chest. “I can’t focus.”

  “Why?” My eyes lingered over his chest muscles.

  Jesus, why do you have to be so sexy?

  I expected him to say something, anything, but there was only silence, the awkward kind before his eyes deceived him and he briefly looked at me. “Because you wore it for him. Not me. Take it off.”

  I did, right there in the hallway, leaving me in my bra and underwear.

  He didn’t like that one bit. Well, he did, obviously, but it was clearly a distraction he didn’t want.

  He disappeared into his bedroom, and I heard a drawer slammed shut, and then he returned with two T-shits, handing me one and keeping one for himself.

  Slipping the shirt over my shoulders, I followed him into the living room where he sat on the couch. I sat beside him and noticed he had the article in his hand. “Oh shit.” I reached for the vodka. “I think I’m going to need this.”

  He snorted, but there was amusement in it as he watched me take a drink straight from the bottle. When I was finished, I handed him the bottle. He took his own drink and then set it on the coffee table in front of us

  It was six in the morning and we were both drinking. Pathetic.

  After drawing in a heavy breath, he held up the crumpled paper that had once been my article. “Did you write this for you or me?”

  For a moment I was more concerned at the condition of the paper. He’d clearly taped it back together and maybe he tried to set it on fire and then stopped by the black edges. I considered that for a moment. “A little of both.” I reached for it, but he pulled it back away from me. “Did you set it on fire?”

  “Tried to, but then I panicked. Answer my question.”

  “The public, including me, had the wrong image of you. I wanted to set them straight.”

  His eyes met mine. There was an ambiguity in his stare. “Maybe they have the right one all along.”

  “I don’t believe that.” I couldn’t break away from his eyes.

  Destry took another deep breath before continuing, and even though his voice was soft, I could hear the embarrassment in his words. “I threw that fight on purpose.”

  I gasped and the intensity in his eyes returned.

  “Why would you do that?”

  His hand came up to run along his jaw, his eyes narrowing at the wall. He shook his head, contemplating his response. “For her.”

  “And then she left you?”

  He nodded and set the article down. “And then she left me.”

  “Why would she have you throw the fight?”

  “Because she wanted me to prove to her she meant more to me than boxing.”

  “So you lost, for her, and she still walked away?”

  His knee started bouncing as he reached for the bottle of vodka. “Yep.”

  Guilt tugged at my gut. I wasn’t any better than her. “I’m sorry, Destry. I’m so sorry I wasn’t honest with you from the start.”

  “It’s not your fault. I… think if you’re going to have an image of me…” His eyes found mine again. “I want you of all people to have the right one.”

  Tentatively, I reached out and touched his shoulder. “I knew when I saw you sparring for the first time you didn’t lose that fight because he was better. There was no way a man with your speed, skill, and style could have lost.”

  He nodded but didn’t say anything.

  “Do you regret it?”

  After taking a drink from the bottle, Destry set it back on the table. He tipped his head toward mine. “I guess, yeah, I do. I said he was a better fighter. And he wasn’t, but she was. She knew exactly how to use me to her advantage and won.” He leaned his head back against the edge of the couch, yawning. “I can’t say it was a complete loss though. He was humbling. I realized after I lost that for so long I’d been fighting for other people. Whether it be her, my dad, to prove that I could, I don’t know, but I was lost. Fighting used to be something I enjoyed. And I’d wanted to be a heavyweight champion the day I saw my dad hold up that same belt. Never anything else. Then one day, I lost that, and I started doing it for money. I lost my mind doing it that way. I was the champion of the world and lost it for her. I want that back.”

  “Her or the title?”

  “The title.” He snorted. “I don’t give a shit about her.”

  I gave him a nod. “Then get it back.”

  “I plan to.”

  We didn’t say anything for a few minutes, when he nudged my shoulder with his. “Can I ask you something?”

  I blinked slowly, the sight of him being so vulnerable nearly bringing me to tears. “Anything.”

  His eyebrows rose, and he looked at me out of the corner of his eyes. “Did you sleep with him?”

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t feel like I needed to. He should have known the answer to that.

  When I didn’t answer, he reached forward and touched my cheek, angling my face toward his. “Did you fuck him?”

  “What do you think the answer to that question is?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think you did, but I wasn’t there before the concert. I don’t know what happened in his dressing room. Or the ride over there.” His breath blew out over my face, warm and strangely comforting. “I hoped that you wouldn’t have.”

  “I didn’t have sex with him.”

  “Do you regret it?” His voice sounded sincere, like he was honestly asking.

  “Going to see the concert?”

  “No.” His voice was quiet. “After everything… do you regret us?”

  How can he think that?

  “No. I don’t at all. I didn’t then and I still don’t,” I repeated, knowing he’d already asked me that. “I hate that you thought I would sleep with Silas.” My eyes dropped to my hands. “Especially after the way we were.”

  “I’m sorry.” Destry hung his head in shame. “But what did you expect me to think? When we talked about you going to that concert… you made it seem like you wanted that to happen.”

  “Well you misread the signs then.”

  “What signs?”

  “Me sleeping with you!” I gasped, as if it should have been obvious.

  “Oh, right. My judgment has been clouded the past six weeks.”

  I smiled, comforted by the fact that I had this effect over him. But then I had to ask the question I’d been dying to know the answer to. “Why did you sleep with me that night and then wait to tell me you knew about that article? Why not just tell me that night?”

  He was quiet for a long moment and then looked over at me. “I knew what would happen when I told you. I knew it was over when I found out, but I couldn’t let you go that easily.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you were the first girl who didn’t care who I was. Being a champion didn’t matter. What we had mattered.” Swallowing, he drew in a deep breath, his chest expanding with the motion. “Or so I thought. And it wasn’t easy to see you any other way. I wanted to believe what we had was real.”

  “It is real. I never meant to hurt you.”

  “I know that, but when you’ve been through what I had been through, it’s easy to lose sight of that.”

  “How did you find out?” If he says Marcus, I’m going to murder him with my bare hands.

  “Adam warned me. Then I went to see my dad and saw your name on the sign-in sheet. I did some research. That pissed me off that you involved him. The next day I saw you having lunch with Marcus Hadley. I remembered him and then Adam reminded me of who he was.” He sounded dejected as he spoke. “Then I found your notebook when you were in the bathroom at the gym. It fell out of your bag when I moved it off the weight bench.”

  My heart sunk. “I know it’s getting repetitive, but I’m sorry.”

  He snorted, laughter on his lips as he rolled his head
to mine, his hand on my bare thigh. “You could say sorry in a different way….”

  Playfully, I shoved my hand into his shoulder. “You’re awful.”

  I couldn’t believe the clusterfuck I’d created.

  When I stared at him, a smile on his face, something stirred inside me. A realization. What if you could have the greatest love of your life, but you had to relive the past to find it again?

  Well, I went back to the beginning and found that love. Where I ended up was far from where I thought I would be. I no longer wanted that first love.

  I used to hear girls say they’d never forget their first love. Even Jared said that. When you think about it, it’s the first piece of your heart that you gave to someone else. When you’re young, the love you gave your parents was different. They were there from the beginning. You automatically loved them from the start—you were designed to. Then someone, your first love, came along and you gave your heart to him or her. The difference was you gave it. Or maybe they stole it. I didn’t know how it worked.

  When I was little, I used to tie my shoes in double, even triple, knots so they wouldn’t come untied when I was running around. Then night would come, and I’d have to untie them. Those second and third knots were always easy to get untangled, but that first knot, the strongest one, always gave me the most trouble.

  That was first love. A bond you couldn’t untie.

  Eventually, if you were strong enough, you could get it untied and move on.

  My theory?

  Move on and buy new laces.

  Southpaws are left-handed fighters (unorthodox). They put their right foot forward, jab with their right hand and throw power punches with their left hand (rear hand). To a "normal" right-handed fighter, a southpaw's punches are coming from the wrong side. When a right-handed and left-handed boxer fight each other, their lead foot is almost on top of the other person’s. Southpaws aren't always born left-handed, some are converted southpaws.

  I could have walked away, and deep down, I would have been perfectly fine as I was the day I met Destry. But would I be happy if I walked away? No. I wouldn’t have been.

  I’d spent a good eight hours at Destry’s apartment that morning. We had finished eating takeout when Destry sighed. “You want to know my biggest fear?”

  I smiled. “You have fears?”

  “A couple.” He winked, but then set the container of noodles on his coffee table. His back was tense as he turned toward me but didn’t make eye contact. “You’re never gonna see me as Destry,” he said, keeping his eyes low on the box of orange chicken in my hand. “You’ll always see me as a trainer, a fighter. Never me.”

  “You’re wrong.” I set my chicken on the coffee table beside his. I touched my hand to his cheek. He leaned in, closing his eyes. “You’re all I’ve ever seen.”

  His brow furrowed, his eyes softening. “Tell me what you want, Tallan. Do you want me to walk away?”

  I didn’t get a chance to answer before he leaned in, his lips pressing to mine.

  He inhaled loudly at our contact, my breath in my lungs exhaling just as harshly. “Do you still want this?”

  “The way I feel about you hasn’t changed,” I whispered against his lips. “It never will.”

  He pulled away, studying my reaction. “No, that’s not good enough. You have to say it. If you want me to walk away, then say it.”

  “I want you, Destry. All of you. Even the stubborn side that won’t acknowledge that I’ve said sorry a million times and repeatedly told you I want you.”

  “Everyone who has ever said ‘trust me’ has left me with nothing.” His expression faltered, gave way to his insecurities by the slow blink that followed. “Are you gonna do the same?”

  A familiar ache that started in my chest weaved around my throat. “No.”

  “You see me, right?” His bloodshot eyes found mine. “You see who I am now, all fight and no faith. If you leave, if I can’t trust you....” His words trailed off, as though he couldn’t fathom the man he’d become.

  “You can trust me.” I reached out to touch the stubble of his jaw, my palm flattening against his cheek. “If you want me, I’m here.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” And then a smile touched his lips, his eyes dropping as a memory came over him. “My dad once told me while he was training for a fight against Salvador Reyner that a moment of pain is worth a lifetime of glory. I believe that now.”

  I sighed, smiling at him as there was a knock on his door.

  “Do you feel that?” He placed my hand over his chest, ignoring the knocking.

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s a heartbeat. That’s all I’ve had to tell me I’m alive this past year. A beat. And then you came around. You made me feel something pure, something worth believing. Don’t fuck that up.”

  Yep, I just died with those words. And then I laughed.

  “I love you, but you’re crazy.”

  Oh shit, I said it. I fucking said that out loud!

  Was it too soon?

  Would he push me away?

  He smiled and touched my cheek. “I’ll fight for you.” I remembered his earlier words, “I fight for who I love.” God, why does that sound so much better than I love you?

  Destry stared at me wearily as the knocking continued. “We should probably answer that.”

  I licked my lips, moving closer. “Or, we could have make-up sex.”

  A growl emitted from his chest. “Much better idea.” I was hauled up into his arms before I could blink.

  Laying me on the center of his bed, he raked his stare over my body. “Don’t expect this to last long,” he teased, crawling onto the mattress with me.

  His strong hands trailed over my body, and then his voice brought me back to his face.

  “Tell me you love me,” he panted, shifting his position to look at me. “Tell me again.”

  Capturing his face between my palms, I brought his lips to mine. “I love you.” I wasn’t sure why he needed the reminder, but I was going to give it to him. Over and over again.

  He kicked away the remaining barriers of clothing and dragged me closer to him, my head supported as he lowered his body to mine.

  His knee was between my thighs, tongue between my lips, my hands greedy as they slid over his back muscles and squeezed his shoulders trying to bring him closer.

  He shook his head and glided his large hands lower over my body, then lower to my hips. Smirking, he pulled away and sat back on his feet.

  Oh God, is he going down on me?

  Destry sighed, taking in my naked body, sucking in air between his teeth. “It fucking hurt to think I’d never see this again.”

  I ran my hands through his hair when he curled his palms around my thighs and spread them. “I couldn’t agree more.” I moaned. “It was torture.”

  When he kissed the inside of my thigh, I panicked. “You don’t have to….”

  He shook his head, moving his kiss to my center, pulling back slightly. His tongue swept over his lower lip. “I wasn’t asking for your approval, Tallan.”

  Pussy. Meet your soul mate.

  I clutched his strong arms as his tongue lapped at me from my clit all the way to my ass, his fingers hard and insistent in all the right areas. Jesus, he’s all in, isn’t he? And why haven’t I begged for this before? Holy hell. Arching my back off the bed, my thighs curled around his ears. “Oh my God,” I moaned.

  After my first orgasm, Destry pulled back and watched me coming down from the high. As he licked his lips, his hooded eyes met mine. “You taste so good, baby.”

  “Fuck me,” I begged, clawing at his shoulders. “Please….”

  “Do you know what you’re asking for?” His look was long and hard. Our loud breathing filled the room. As his hands rested on either side of my head, he pushed forward. His knees spread my legs; each movement was slow and so good.

  “I do.”

  “You can still leave. I won’t make you stay if you don’t want
to.”

  He pressed his chest closer, warm skin comforting. I missed that warmth so much. It was then that he whispered that he never wanted to stop, and I whimpered, refusing to allow any space between us.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Fuck,” he breathed, his nose brushing mine as he traced my bottom lip with his tongue, as if he was having trouble holding back for another second. “I’ve missed you.”

  He raised himself, hands fisted in the sheets and pushed forward.

  My eyes found his, bright with desire but clouded with lust I knew. My fingertips grazed over his flushed cheeks and then over his shoulders and to his sides. My nails dug into his sides, while I kissed from chin to temple and back as he cradled my head.

  Pushing back, I guided my palm to his heart, keeping my eyes locked with his. “Let this be mine,” I pleaded. “Please.”

  He took my bottom lip between his teeth before pushing forward one last time, a low moan trapped against skin. “It is yours, honey,” he murmured against my chest. “That will never change. Never.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing him back to me, slick bodies meeting their limit.

  His speed quickened, his breath against my lips. “Don’t ever leave me again.” He held my gaze.

  The way he watched me, scrutinizing every breath and blink assured me there was no bitterness here anymore. He didn’t hate me for what I did. And this was him forgiving me. It was present in his warmth and gentle touch.

  A moan escaped me when one of his hands traced down my chest over my waist and gripped me firmly as he pressed his pelvis into me a little harder. “You wanted it… take it,” he growled, grinding his hips into mine.

  I traced his face, slid my hand down his neck, his arm, over his collarbone and to the rippled muscles of his chest. “I’ll take anything you give me.”

  We didn’t last long at all and it was over sooner than both of us wanted.

  When his breath evened out, he rolled off me and to my side, holding me against him.

  He whispered in my ear, low and raspy, rocking forward, “I love you.” It was the first time he’d said the words completely.

  “I love you too,” I said, meaning every word of it.