by Amity Cross
“Free. You’re my girl, Jules.”
You’re my girl. There was no way I wanted to run from this—the beginning of something that could be great. I’d done enough hiding from the world and assuming the worst, so I believed him.
“I got these for you,” Caleb said, producing a pair of bright red boxing gloves. “They’re the right size and won’t move around when you hit the bag.”
I stared at them, not knowing what to do. No guy had ever bought me something before. It was just a pair of boxing gloves, not a diamond ring or anything, but it still knocked me off balance.
“For me?” I blinked hard, caught by surprise.
“For you,” he replied with a chuckle. Gesturing for my hands, I held them up, and he slipped the first glove over my left.
“How romantic,” I retorted, my lips quirking.
“What kind of music do you like?” he asked, strapping me into the gloves.
“Music?” I shrugged, knocked the other direction. “All kinds really. Why?”
“There’s a band playing at Cherry Bar in the city tonight. They’re really great.”
“Cherry Bar?” I asked. The name sounded familiar, but I wasn’t sure where I’d heard it before.
“It’s a rock ‘n’ roll bar,” he explained. “A little hole-in-the-wall that has live music and good drinks. You look like the kind of woman who likes a little alternative music, so I took a punt. Besides, I really want to take you out tonight.”
It must be the dyed black hair that tipped him off. Being the polar opposite of my sister, I was into quirkier stuff than the mainstream surfer chick lifestyle she had chased. Books, music, art, writing, and creative pursuits were my thing. The playlists I kept on my phone were full of indie, quirky folk and electronic bands, some alternative rock, and a little punk. In another life, I would’ve already been to a place like Cherry Bar ten times over if I had the confidence.
“How…” I began, really wanting to go but not sure about the shadows.
“Don’t worry about anything,” Caleb said like he was able to read my mind. “I’ll make sure you get home okay. I’ll be with you until you want me to fuck off.”
“How do you always know what to say?” I asked, staring up at him.
He shrugged, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“No, really. How?”
“Boxing,” he said mysteriously, grasping my wrists and holding up my gloved fists. “So? We’re going to train for an hour, then shower, then dinner, and then go see some brilliant music. Sound like a plan?”
Date night with Caleb Carmichael? I wanted him any way I could get him, and if it meant being glued to his side all night and experiencing a facet of Melbourne I’d been too afraid of to immerse myself in, then I’d go. I wanted to live.
“Yeah,” I murmured, completely under his spell. “I’d go anywhere with you.”
18
Caleb
I’d go anywhere with you.
All night, her words rang in my head, sending me into a spin.
Juliette and I stood in the middle of Cherry Bar, the place absolutely packed and sweltering like a sauna. The first band had just finished playing, and we were edging toward the bar for a drink, along with everyone else.
We’d had a good time so far. We’d finished training and gone to her place so she could change. Then we had dinner at a little Chinese restaurant on Little Bourke Street in the city, which had the best all-day dim sum, followed by an easy stroll to Cherry Bar, which was spent hand in hand all the way.
It’d been the perfect date. Textbook perfect. Life felt good despite both our lingering issues, but I suppose that was what this crazy ride was all about. Moments like these.
It was too loud to talk inside, so we stood nestled together as we moved closer and closer toward the bar. Finally, Juliette leaned against the edge, next in line.
A man stood beside her, a tall, lanky Goth bloke with dyed black hair, black guyliner, and a torn-up T-shirt. Looked tough but had absolutely no muscle on his arms. When he turned and stared at Juliette, completely unblinking, my hackles rose.
“Hey, you look familiar,” he said, peering at her. “Have we met before?”
“I don’t think so,” she replied, angling herself away. We’d become separated in the crush, and I placed my hand in hers, trying to squeeze in next to her.
“Yeah, I have seen you someplace,” he went on, his words slurring together. The guy was drunk as a skunk and in no way needed to plaster himself with another pot of beer. “Have you been on my cock?”
I scowled at the guy, but he was oblivious to my towering presence, his gaze fixated on Juliette. I didn’t like where this was going.
“Gross,” she said, making a face as I edged closer to her through the crowd.
“Nope, must not have,” he said to himself. “Oh, I know…”
Juliette turned her face away and looked for the bartender, attempting to give the guy a hint she was done trying to humor his drunken ass.
“Yeah, you look like that girl who was murdered,” he drawled. “Except for the hair.”
He reached out to grab her hair, and she jerked backward, her eyes wide with fear.
“Hey,” I said, forcing myself between them. “Hands off, mate.”
The guy took one look at me and held up his hands. “Easy buddy, just chatting with her.”
“You’re shit-faced,” I hissed at him. “You’re too fucking stupid to realize you’re being a douche, or maybe the alcohol is amplifying what’s already there.”
“Hey,” he exclaimed, stumbling into someone standing behind him. “I’ll fight you!”
I looked him up and down and knew it’d only take one well-aimed punch to put him down, but there was no way in hell I’d do that to the guy. He was a drunken asshole, but one hit from me would put him in the hospital. I wasn’t like that. It was cowardly and a total dick move.
Instead, I said, “Take your weedy little ass someplace else, and go fuck yourself.”
The guy seemed to know what was good for him and slunk away, stumbling into several people as he went, one built guy giving him a shove right back. Things were getting amped in here, and it had everything to do with the sweltering heat and the constant stream of alcohol.
Pulling Juliette back from the bar, I led her to a quieter corner so she could get her bearings. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea coming here on a Saturday night.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Don’t worry about it. That guy was plastered.”
I frowned, thinking about what he’d said to her. You look like that girl who was murdered. It was a throwaway comment and probably didn’t mean anything, but I still wondered if it had anything to do with what had happened to her.
The crowd swelled around us, pushing her against me. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I could feel the tension in her body. She was anxious after that dickhead harassed her at the bar, and it only made my suspicions grow. I wanted to ask about it, but forcing her to talk about a dramatic experience like that would only make things worse. Besides, I was only speculating. Juliette had become too precious to me to risk scaring her off.
“Do you want to go?” I murmured into her ear. My appetite for live music had all but disappeared.
She frowned, her gaze flickering around the tiny bar and all the people milling around us. A stream of bodies walking to and fro jostled us, and she glanced up at me.
“I’ve about had it,” I said, making the choice easy for her.
“I… I’m not ready to go home,” she said, her fingers curling around my shirt.
Rubbing my palms up and down her back, I nodded. “Me, either, but we can go to my place if you want. I’m not far from here.”
“You live in the city?”
“Yeah, I have an apartment on Franklin Street.” I smiled at the thought of taking her there and seeing her among my things. Sitting on my couch, sleeping in my bed, naked in my shower. It sounded like a brilliant idea. “I
t’ll be quiet, and I’ve got air con.”
“Sold,” she said with a smile.
“Was it the alone time with me or the air conditioning that sold it?” I asked, smothering a smile.
She wiped her brow. “Totally the air conditioning.”
Grasping her hand, I led her out of the bar and into the laneway, oxygen filling my lungs the moment we emerged. The air was full of moisture, the city lights reflecting off the sky. Clouds had rolled in while we were inside, and I could feel the charge of a looming storm all around us. Instinctively, I tugged Juliette closer as we set off.
Two blocks away from my apartment building, a boom split the air, the crash of thunder so loud it made every female around us squeal—and a few males—and Juliette jumped, her fingers tightening around mine.
A drop of rain hit my nose, and I glanced up just in time to see a fork of lightning streak across the sky between buildings.
“I think we’d better make a break for it,” I said just as the heavens opened, and it started to pour.
Rain pounded on us as we ran hand in hand through the city streets, Juliette laughing as the water soaked her hair and clothes. The material of her dress was stuck to her body, leaving nothing to the imagination. I wanted to cover her, jealousy rising at the thought other men staring at her perfection, but one glance confirmed everyone around us were too busy finding a way out of the downpour to bother looking.
After a mad dash across the traffic-clogged street, we finally reached my building. I pulled her into the foyer out of the rain, laughing like mad.
“What a rush,” she exclaimed, almost slipping on the tiled floor. “I’ve definitely cooled off now.”
I jammed my finger on the call button at the bank of elevators and yanked her against me. “Really?” I asked. “Because now I’m all hot and bothered in a different way.” I caught her lips with mine, kissing her hard. Her tongue wrapped around mine greedily as I cupped her wet ass. Pulling away as the elevator dinged, I murmured, “That dress is stuck to you like a second skin. No imagination needed, Jules.”
Immediately, she flushed scarlet, her gaze moving down to her breasts. “Oh, shit.”
“No one else can see,” I said, pushing the button for my floor. “Only me. I like the wet look…it’s very hot.”
She shook her head, water splattering everywhere. I grabbed her around the waist and held her close, stopping her from shaking out and destroying the elevator. When the car arrived on my floor, we stumbled out and practically bounded down the hall to my apartment.
Unlocking the front door, I ushered her in and closed it behind us. Watching her run her fingertips over the kitchen counter—and dripping over everything—I instantly knew she belonged here.
“You don’t have much stuff,” she commented, her gaze raking over my meager belongings. I had the bare minimum in the way of furniture, and everything had its place and stayed put. Apart from the pile of dirty dishes loaded up in the dishwasher, the place was spotless.
“It isn’t much, but it’s home, I guess,” I said. “I moved here almost a year ago now.”
“It’s nicer than my place,” she said, turning her attention to the little balcony and the view of the Melbourne CBD beyond. It was so close you could reach out and touch it, metaphorically speaking, that was.
Darting into the hall, I opened the linen closet and pulled out a towel. Finding her at the balcony window, her gaze glued on the haze beyond, I draped the material around her shoulders and rubbed softly.
“Here,” I murmured, my hair dripping.
She leaned back against my chest with a sigh, and I felt my cock twitch as her ass settled against it. Forgetting the towel, I moved my hands lower, my palms cupping her breasts. Her nipples were taut against the soaked fabric of her dress, and I pinched each softly. A gasp escaped from her pink lips, and her arms rose, snaking around my neck.
I held her back against my chest, my hands roaming and tugging her dress up. She was forced to let me go so I could pull it over her head, and I tossed it aside, the material slapping onto the tiled floor.
My hands caressed her damp body, my erection growing as she wriggled against me. Wanting to touch her everywhere, I slipped my fingers into her underwear and found her clit. I teased the little bud, circling softly, then pressing hard before easing the pressure. She mewled in complaint, her soft breaths becoming sharper as her longing grew. When I ran my finger along her seam, my cock pulsed as her wetness drew me in. One finger, then two.
Juliette moved her hips, working her body against my palm. Her ass rubbed against my crotch, and it was all I could do not to pull down my pants, free myself, and bend her over the back of the couch.
“Caleb,” she muttered, lost to pure sensation.
Removing my hand, I peeled off my shirt, kicked off my shoes, and took off the last barrier between her and me. She sank against the window, her fingers unhooking her bra and tossing it aside.
Wrapping my hand around her wet hair, I tugged her head to the side and covered her mouth with mine, sliding my tongue deep. Her kiss was full of fire, her delicate little hands searching for my cock.
Turning her body around, I picked her up and anchored her against the window. Her legs wrapped around my waist, locking her core against mine, her slickness teasing my hardness. Her fingers speared through my hair, tugging hard, and I moaned, wanting nothing more than to bury into her balls deep.
“I can’t keep my hands off you,” I muttered.
“Then don’t.”
Her words struck a chord deep inside me, and I fisted my cock, pressing the head into her opening. Using the window and my free hand to hold her in place, I eased into her, my eyes rolling back as she took every inch, right to the hilt.
“So…good…” she muttered, working her hips over me before squeezing.
The motion sent an unbelievable burst of pleasure through my cock, and I drew back, then stroked deep again.
I had her slowly against the window, savoring the way her body wrapped around mine, the way her lips parted when I thrust, and the sounds she made when I rubbed against her clit. I was dreaming. Had to be. No one was this perfect, right?
I fucked her with all the tenderness I could muster before she came on my cock, forcing me to empty inside her.
Melbourne was at her back, covered in a blanket of rain, the sweltering heat mirroring the display we’d just given the city against my balcony window.
Afterward, we lay together in my king-sized bed, staring at another angle of the city outside the windows.
“They can’t see in here, can they?” Juliette asked, causing me to laugh.
“I doubt it. Unless there’s a pervert with a telescope in one of those office buildings.”
“Don’t say that,” she said through a moan. “Now I feel all gross.”
“Don’t,” I whispered. “Fucking you against that window was… I want to do it again.” Kissing the top of her head, I tightened my grip before settling back with a contented sigh.
“I don’t know what came over me,” she said, her breath tickling my neck.
“Passion?” I offered.
“Perhaps.”
We lay in silence for a moment, and just when I thought Juliette might’ve fallen asleep, she spoke.
“Do you want to talk a little?” she asked, much to my surprise.
“If you like. What about?”
“What’s your family like?” she came out with, causing me to close my eyes.
Right, if I wanted her to open up and trust me, I had to be willing to tell her everything. Even if it meant divulging the chaos that was the Carmichael legacy.
“Intense,” I replied. “I’m an only child. My dad is a world champion boxer. Won belts all over the world, but mainly made his career in Las Vegas. He made a fortune fighting in the casinos there.”
“Is that why you became a boxer?”
“Yes and no. It was always ingrained in me from a young age, so it was all I knew and wanted. M
y father’s a hard man, and he trained me with an iron fist. Failure was not an option so you can understand why we’re on the outs these days.” I snorted. “He wants me to go back. My mother wants whatever he wants, and it’s one great conspiracy devised to shit me to tears. I’m sure they think if they harass me enough, I’ll quit my job at Beat and go back into training just to get a bit of peace.”
“But…” Juliette began, raising her head. “They understand about your back, right?”
“Yep.”
She frowned, her forehead creasing and making her look really fucking cute.
“They weren’t exactly supportive when I was in the hospital,” I went on. “And I’m not surprised in the least Dad would risk his son not walking again over him working in a little shithole like Beat.”
“I don’t think it’s shit,” she declared.
“Neither do I.”
Her fingers traced over my lips. “I’m sorry.”
“It is what it is. I’ll stand my ground,” I murmured. “I like my legs. I’d like to fight again, but sometimes, the cookie crumbles, and there’s not a thing you can do about it. I’m doing okay at Beat. Sometimes, I struggle, but I have to remind myself it’s only been a year since I got out of rehab.”
“How long were you there for?”
“A year all told. I was flat on my back for months after the fight. Then I had to learn how to manage the pain.”
“You—”
I placed my finger over her lips. “I’m doing okay, Jules. Great, actually. You know, I can finally see tomorrow? For so long, I was just floating… Then you came along.”
She smiled, kissing my fingertip. “Really? Me?”
“We met at exactly the right time.”
Her expression changed, morphing from one thing to another, and I knew her mind was ticking over, attempting to figure out what she wanted to tell me.
“My parents,” she began, hesitantly. “They live on the Sunshine Coast in Queensland… They didn’t want me to move here. Said I was running away.”
“Are they good people?” I asked, wanting to absorb every little thing she told me.