by Imogen Wells
“You bet your arse I can. You know, you should never judge the strength of a person based on their size, Seb.” She spins away from me, walking towards a shelf at the back of the room that holds sparring gloves. Grabbing two pairs, she walks back to me, shoving a pair into my chest. “Lets’ go, hot shot.”
I arch a brow at her as she begins to pull the gloves on. They’re a little on the large side, but she doesn’t seem perturbed. Once we are both gloved-up, we move to the ring.
Stepping in under the rope, I lay down some rules. “Nothing below the waist and no head shots. Don’t want to ruin that pretty face of yours, Firefly.” She nods, shrugging indifferently before stepping forward to touch gloves in the middle of the ring. I shout out ‘fight’ and immediately the air leaves my lungs in a whoosh as she lands a punch straight to my solar plexus.
Damn. As I slowly get air back into my lungs, I look up to see her bouncing on the balls of her feet, side to side like some pro boxer. The smart smirk on her face tells me I have grossly underestimated her.
“Okay, I see how it is.”
And we fight.
We go at each other hard, and Jamie doesn’t hold anything back. She lands several punches to my kidneys that’ll have me pissing blood, and despite the ‘no head shot’ rule, she lands a solid right hook that shakes my jaw. I can feel her anger and frustration in every hit.
I shake my head to clear the fog from her hit, and then I yank the gloves from my hands, throwing them to the mat. My chest heaves with the exertion from our sparring, and I take a step towards her, and she takes one back.
Before she can take another step, my hand swipes out, snatching her wrist and pulling her towards me.
Seventeen
Jamie
Fuck the rules. That’s my only thought as I catch Seb with a right hook to the jaw. He’s holding back, and that pisses me off. Although, to be fair, he’d probably knock me flat out if he hit me full pelt.
Each hit has all my emotions coming to the surface, and unfortunately for Seb, he’s getting the brunt of my rage and frustration.
As he shakes his head from my last hit, his eyes land on mine. They swirl with his own restrained anger, but then I see the gold flecks that tell me he’s more than pissed at my blatant disregard for the rules we set. No. They tell me he’s turned on.
He yanks his gloves from his hands and chucks them to the mat. And then he takes a step towards me; eyes glistening with excitement for the chase and stalking after me like a true predator. I take a step back, but just as I go to take another, he reaches out, latching onto my wrist and yanking me towards him.
I crash into his chest hard. My gloved hands are no use in fighting him off this close, and it takes seconds for him to trap me against him.
“What the fuck was that?” he grits out. His chest heaves against mine, and the friction of our clothing rubs against my braless breasts causing my nipples to pebble. And when a small smirk slides over his cocky-arse face, I know he can feel them.
“You deserved it and should be thankful I didn’t put you on your arse,” I snipe at him.
“Is that so?” he says, grabbing a handful of my arse. I gasp just as he swipes my legs from beneath me. We fall to the mat with him on top of me. How very convenient. “Now who’s on their arse. It’s a nice arse. In fact, I’ve had several up-close and in my face moments with it. Literally,” he says with a chuckle.
“Screw you! Let me up.” I try to wriggle free, but all it does is cause friction in a different kind of area. One that seems unable to resist this cocky man-whore. Seb lets out a groan that has my pussy throbbing in encouragement, and my body, involuntarily, arching for more. Seb takes full advantage of the move, using one hand to pin my hands above my head, while he bites my nipple through the thin material of my t-shirt.
Now it’s my turn to groan, and I hate that this is what he does to me. I hate that he can control my body and only needs to open his mouth for my body to light up. I don’t take lightly to being told what to do, dominated in any shape or form, it’s just who I am. But Seb has it all going out the fucking window.
My anger at this insufferable man with his magic mouth and touch, rises again. I double my efforts to push him off, but he has a firm hold of my hands and uses his pelvis to pin me down harder. I’m no match for his strength in this position. And if I’m brutally honest, I like it. It’s only my mind that has a problem because the rest of my body sure as hell doesn’t.
Seb runs his free hand along my side, sliding my t-shirt out of the way. Every nerve ending in my body comes alive, and when he reaches my breast, he flicks my nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. With nothing between us now, the hot caress of his mouth is like an arrow to my core.
“Aah,” I cry out, the sound echoing off the walls. Seb sucks harder, then hums, and as the vibrations skitter over me, I give in to the pleasure. Realising I’m no longer trying to fight him, he lets my hands go.
Lifting his eyes to mine, he asks, “You ever been fucked in a boxing ring, Firefly?” I shake my head. “Good.” He begins removing my t-shirt and goosebumps break out across my skin as the cool air hits my body. Throwing the t-shirt aside, he makes quick work of removing my gloves and tossing them too.
Snatching my wrists, he pins them above my head again, then leans down, lips brushing mine as he whispers, “You see that rope there?” I stretch my head up, looking back to see what he’s talking about, then giving him a nod. “You’re going to hold onto that rope, and if you let go, I’m going to stop. Do you understand, Jamie?” I bite my lower lip as his words wash over me.
Seb’s eyes watch the movement, and I feel him tense above me, grinding his hips a little, obviously needing the friction. He suddenly dives forward, taking my mouth hard, and as he pulls back, he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, biting down enough to hurt.
“Hands, Jamie.” His tone is husky, lust lacing every word. I do as he says without hesitation, and as soon as my hands are tightly wrapped around the rope, he slams his lips onto mine again. I open willingly, our tongues colliding, and I can taste whiskey and everything that is him. I close my eyes and get lost in the feel and taste of him as my body screams for more.
Breaking the kiss, I open my eyes as he trails his lips down my neck, and I lift my chin, giving him better access. My skin tingles everywhere his lips touch, and my pussy pulses with want, need, to feel him inside me, filling me.
I lift my head from the mat, ensuring I keep my hands on the rope, and watch the corded muscles in his arms as he slips my bottoms and underwear from me before sitting back on his hunches.
His eyes run down my body, taking in every inch of me as he undoes his trousers, slipping a hand inside and freeing his cock. His hand glides up and down the shaft, and my tongue sweeps across my lips as a drop of precum forms, glistening against the metal of his piercing. I watch him, unashamedly, gripping the rope tighter to stop myself from reaching out to touch him. A deep groan echoes through the room, and my eyes flick up to Seb.
“You wanna taste me, Firefly?” He keeps his eyes on mine as he straddles me, moving up my body and bringing his cock to my lips. I run my tongue up his shaft, over his piercing before sucking him into my mouth. I whimper as the salty taste of him hits my tongue, and he thrusts forward, hitting the back of my throat. Tears spring to my eyes at the force, and I moan around him, squeezing and rubbing my thighs together, trying to find some relief as my own need grows.
Continuing to thrust in and out of my mouth, Seb reaches a hand back, and my legs drop open as he runs his fingers through my folds, over my clit before ramming two fingers into my pussy. I instantly clamp around them, raising my hips from the mat and chasing the pleasure as he pumps them faster. His hips match the pace, and my orgasm smashes into me, knocking the air from my lungs. My hands slip from the rope, unable to hold on any longer and not caring of the consequences, I grab Seb’s arse, digging my nails into his cheeks. His cock grows harder, and his thrusts begin to st
utter as his orgasm hits him, and he lets out a deep, guttural roar as he spills into my mouth.
I swallow every drop before letting him slip free from my mouth. As I rest my head back to the mat, Seb slips his fingers from me, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them before dropping them to mine. I open, allowing him to push them in as I run my tongue around them, tasting myself. It’s dirty and turns me the fuck on as I watch his eyes light, and his cock begins to grow again. He pulls his fingers from my mouth, dragging them down my lips. He shimmies back down my body, dropping over the top of me and resting his forehead against mine.
His eyes close as his breath ghosts over my mouth. “Fuck, Firefly. Your mouth, your body, your taste…You make me lose my mind.” I’m taken aback by his words, but before I can reply, his lips meet mine in a kiss that strips me bare.
The tenderness with which his lips move against mine, and his tongue’s sweet caress have my emotions in a spin. He’s never kissed me this way before, and I struggle to work out what it means. If anything.
He breaks away from me, jumping to his feet and holding his hand out to me. The tender moment is gone, almost as though it never happened. I take his hand, and he pulls me to my feet.
Once I’m up, he quickly lets me go and moves away to pick up my clothes. He hands me mine, and I begin to dress, but he avoids looking at me.
Before I can think to stop them, words tumble from my mouth. “What was that, Seb?” Seb instantly stills, hand on the button of his trousers. For a second I don’t think he’s going to answer, and when he does, I wish he hadn’t bothered.
“Just a thanks for the incredible blowy, nothing more.” He shrugs, continuing to fasten his trousers.
“Don’t do that,” I snap back at him. It pisses me off he’s trying to deny that whatever the fuck that was just happened.
“Come on, Jamie. Let’s not pretend this was anything more than what it was.”
I slip the t-shirt over my head. “Okay. And what exactly do you think it was then, Seb? Enlighten me, please,” I tell him, straightening up and looking right at him.
The euphoria from minutes ago is slowly being replaced with anger at what I know is going to spill from his mouth any second. Realising that if I allow him to say the words ‘hook-up’ I’m going to lose my shit, so I beat him to it.
“You know what? Forget it. You’re right. Thanks for the hook-up, it was just what I needed,” I say nonchalantly as I turn towards the ropes, stepping under them and dropping to the floor. Needing to deflect away from my slip up, I spin round to face him, walking backwards and say, “You were almost as good a Bob, but not quite. Catch you later.” I give him a wink and spin back around, but not before I see confusion and a small spark of anger cross his face.
I manage to maintain an even and casual walk as I exit the gym, but once the door closes behind me, it turns into a fast walk, with purpose. I head towards the kitchen in the hopes I can find some alcohol to numb the many emotions coursing through me right now.
I peek around the door when I reach the kitchen, checking the coast is clear. Once I’m sure there’s no one there, I step in and begin searching the numerous cupboards. After half a dozen with no luck, I’m just about to give up, when I remember the top cupboard Rick opened earlier. Bingo. I scan the bottles, and then my eyes find the perfect drink for the occasion.
Grabbing the bottle and a skull shot glass, I quickly make my escape to the guest room I stayed in the last time I was here.
Dropping down onto the bed and tucking my feet beneath me, I open the bottle of Patron Silver tequila. I go to pour a shot into the glass I swiped but stop and take a huge swig straight from the bottle. Wouldn’t want to waste a drop of this precious nectar. A shudder runs through me as the tequila burns its way down my throat. Burning away the taste of Seb on my tongue. Shame it can’t remove him from the dark corner of my heart he seems to have burrowed his way into.
I should be worried about the fact I’ve just stolen a £40 bottle of tequila, but for some reason the more I drink of it, the less I give a shit. About that or the man that makes me feel everything I don’t want to feel, everything I don’t want to think about and all the reasons coming here tonight was a bad idea.
At some point I pass out.
My dreams are filled with caramel eyes, and the touch of a man I can’t be with but can’t stay away from either.
Eighteen
Jamie
The sound of Dua Lipa’s New Rules is playing somewhere, and I pull the covers up over my head. It cuts off only to start right back up again. It’s a good song, and it should be my ringtone for Seb, to remind me not to answer the fucking phone if he ever calls me. I lift the pillow, covering my ears, and then the song stops. It starts again immediately, and I let out a groan.
“Please, for the love of god, will someone turn off the music, my head hurts.” I squeeze the pillow tighter around my ears, but it does nothing to drown out the music.
“Maybe, you should try answering your phone.”
I let the sides of the pillow drop and crack an eye open at the sound of the voice. It takes a second for my one open eye to focus, but when it finally does, there stands Rick. Arms folded across his chest and looking a little pissed off about something.
Then an image of me getting rather familiar with a bottle of his best tequila appears in my mind. It explains his pissed off look and why the fuck my head hurts so badly.
The music starts again, and I finally register what he said about answering my phone. I sit up, slowly and carefully, trying not to jostle my head too much. My brain feels like a pickled egg rattling around inside my skull every time I move my head.
“Whoever that is calling, they seem pretty keen to talk to you. There’s water and some ibuprofen on the bedside table. I suggest you take them, talk to whoever is calling you and then me and you are going to have a little chat downstairs in my office.” He doesn’t wait for an answer, just turns and leaves.
Just as I reach over to grab the water and tablets, my damn phone rings again, vibrating on the bedside table. I grab the water, gulping a couple of mouthfuls down along with the tablets before picking up the phone and answering before it rings off again.
“H…Hello.” It comes out kind of croaky, and I give a little cough to clear my throat.
“Jamie? Where the hell are you? I’ve been ringing your phone for the last thirty minutes.”
It takes a second before I realise who is speaking. “Dana? Hey, what’s up? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. But listen, you need to call work. Alison is looking for you.”
“Alison? As in our boss Alison?” That’s weird. I’m not rostered on today.
“Yes. Look, I don’t know exactly what it’s about, but one of the other girls called me. They searched your locker, Jamie.”
“What the fuck! Why?”
“I honestly don’t know, but it didn’t sound good from what Mel said. I think you should call Alison straightaway. I need to go, but I wanted to give you heads up. Call me later and let me know what’s going on, yeah?”
“Sure. Thanks,” is all I manage before the line goes dead. Dropping the phone to the bed, the slightly damp bed I now realise as the smell of tequila reaches my nostrils. Eww. Well, it could have been worse.
I pick the phone back up and place it on the bedside table, then shove the covers aside and climb from the bed. There’s a loud thunk as the, now empty, bottle of Patron hits the floor. I pick up the bottle, and just as I go to place it on the bedside table, my phone rings again. Alison’s name flashing across the screen.
Snatching it up, I take a deep breath and answer it. “Hi, Alison. Sorry I missed your call I was in the shower.”
“Jamie. Not to worry.” She clears her throat before continuing, “I need to see you in my office as soon as possible, please.”
“Of course. Is everything okay?” A hint of worry creeps into my question. Although Dana wasn’t able to tell me exactly what’s wrong, the
fact they searched my locker is never a good thing. The pictures sent to my phone flash through my mind, and I remember the email addressed to the hospital. Fuck!
She lets out a sigh. “Just come to the hospital, and we’ll talk more then, okay. I’ll see you soon?”
It’s framed as a question, so pushing my concern over what this is about, I tell her I’ll be there in an hour. As I stand here, phone in hand, stinking of alcohol and head thumping, does real worry start to creep in.
Conscious I only have an hour, am currently wearing Rick’s clothes and in desperate need of a shower, I race from the room. My stomach roils from the sudden speed, but I don’t have time to be sick. What I need is to get home, shower and change, and then find out what the fuck is going on that I need to be called into the office after my locker has been searched. Although, I have a pretty good idea.
I barge into Rick’s office without so much as a knock. His head snaps up at the fast, and quite frankly, rude intrusion, but as soon as he sees the look on my face, whatever reprimand he was about to give me is replaced by concern.
“Jamie. What is it?”
“My boss.” I take a breath. “Dana called, said my boss was trying to get hold of me. She doesn’t know why, something about my locker, but I need to get home now. I need to see my boss in an hour. Sorry about last night, the tequila and, shit!” I remember the damp bed. “And the bed. I may have spilt tequila on it. I’ll replace it, pay for dry cleaning, whatever needs doing,” I confess, waving my hand to show it’s no big deal. “I’ve got to go. I’ll return your clothes too. Some time. Again, sorry for last night.” It all comes out in a rush and doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, even to me.
“Jamie. Ju—”
“Yeah, I know. Can we do this another time? I need to go.”
“Jamie!” Rick shouts, getting my attention. “Stop for second. Please.” I stop and look at him. My shoulders drop, along with my head as I try to catch my breath. “Forget about last night, and the bed. Tell me exactly what is going on. Slowly this time.”