Fighter's Heart: An Enemies to Lovers Sports Romance (Crown MMA Romance)

by A. Rivers

  “Go away,” Jase says, making a shooing motion. “I have PR stuff to do.” Taking my hand, he leads me to what appears to be a changing room, where he backs me into the wall and cradles my face in his palms. “Are you sure you’re really here for work?” he asks. “’Cause I think I could change your mind.”

  Laughing, I disentangle myself from him and circle around so he’s the one with his back to the wall. “You could try. But let’s be serious.” I rub my lips together to moisten them because I’m not sure how he’s going to react to this. “This morning the Albright Literacy Foundation reached out to me. They have a fundraiser and their keynote speaker dropped out yesterday. They saw the article about you, remembered that you’re one of their big contributors, and contacted me to find out if you’d consider speaking for them. It’s on Sunday.”

  His jaw drops almost comically. “As in, two days away? That Sunday?”

  “Yeah.” I swallow. “That Sunday.” I grab for his hand to prevent him from escaping. “Please think about it. This is big. It could blow the article out of the water. If you do this, I promise your problems with Erin will be the last thing anyone is talking about.”

  He stills, then levers his jaw closed. “Will there be any other publicity stunts coming my way if I agree to this?”

  “I can’t say for sure, but I doubt it. This should be enough to get you back on track—unless, of course, Erin decides to press charges. But she’d need some kind of evidence in order for that to happen, and she might just decide to slink back out of sight.”

  He appears to weigh my words. Finally, he exhales, his big shoulders dropping. “I’m not much of a public speaker.”

  My lips twitch up, but I drag them down, not wanting him to see my amusement. “I’d disagree. You always know exactly what to say to build up an audience or smack talk an opponent for the cameras.”

  He shrugs and looks away, apparently uncomfortable with my assessment. “That’s all for show, and it’s all about fighting. It’s not anything that really matters the way this would.” He tries to turn, but I hold firm, refusing to let him hide from me. “I mean, what do I have to say that a literary crowd is going to want to hear?”

  I frown. He’s underestimating himself, and this lack of confidence isn’t at all like the Jase I’ve come accustomed to. “Well…” I say, drawing the word out, searching for something to bring him around. “Why do you donate to them?”

  Leaning against the wall, he gazes down at me. “Because I want to help kids get out of shit situations. For some, sports might be the way to do that, like they were for me, but for others, like Gabe’s best friend Sydney, their brains are the way out.”

  I melt inside. How is it possible for this man to be so irresistible? So good to the core and sexy as hell at the same time. “Then talk about that. Tell them about your own situation and how you want to help others like you. Perhaps use Gabe’s friend as an example, if she doesn’t mind. Or instead of getting into anything specific, you could talk about how you want those kids to have options and hope for the future, and use that to fire the donators up and open their pockets.” Swaying closer to him, I hold his hand between both of mine. “The whole point of the event is to get people with deep pockets to open them, so you say whatever you think will make the money flow.”

  Those dark gray eyes don’t move from mine, and a shiver courses through me. He watches me with such intense focus that I feel like an exhibit in an art gallery.

  “What if I make a dick of myself?”

  The words are low, and I have to strain to hear them.

  “You won’t.” Of that, I’m sure. He may not be the most eloquent guy, but there’s something about him that’s captivating. He has charisma, and any audience will sense it.

  He shifts, peeling himself from the wall and encapsulating me within his arms, his hands resting on my lower back. My belly flips and fizzles, loving his nearness.

  “I’ll do it,” he says, easing one hand down to cup my butt, “on one condition.”

  I nibble my lip, knowing I’ll have to reapply lipstick before I leave. “What’s that?”

  God, could I sound any more like I want to jump his bones?

  “You come with me.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” I’d been expecting something dirty. Hoping for something dirty. It takes me a moment to process what he’s actually said.

  “Be my date, Lena.”

  His face is hidden from me in this position, so I hear the words drift past my ear but can’t see his expression as he utters them. More than anything, I want to know what the invitation means. Does he just want moral support, or is he is declaring his intention to date me publicly? Because didn’t we just talk about that? Or perhaps he wants to show me that public relations isn’t all fun and games. Give me a taste of my own medicine, so to speak.

  I swallow. “I’m a behind the scenes person. I’m the one who talks to you through your headset to make sure you don’t say the wrong thing to the wrong person. I’m not the type of person who actually goes to these events.” Although I had been, once, when Karson used to drag me around like his freaking eye candy, so dolled up you wouldn’t recognize me if you saw me on the street the next day. I missed so many red flags with that guy.

  “You should be,” Jase says, breaking into my thoughts. “You deserve to be up front and center as much as anyone else.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” I tell him as he draws back to look me in the face. “I don’t enjoy being the subject of attention, and I also don’t want to get into trouble with my boss.”

  A smile quirks his lips. “Guess what, sweetheart? I don’t like the attention either. It’s just the price I pay for doing what I love.” He kisses me. “That’s my deal. You as my date, or I don’t go. You can tell your boss I’m forcing you into it. What do you say?”

  “Fine,” I grumble, and he captures my mouth in another kiss. Adrian is going to shit a brick when he finds out. But hopefully he’ll go along with it and once Jase is out of hot water, I can work with some of those other clients he promised me. Reluctantly, I ease away from him. “I need to get back to work.”

  He sighs, the sound full of regret. “You mean you have clients other than me?”

  “Yes, gorgeous, I do.”

  He lets me go, but doesn’t move, so it’s up to me to put distance between us. “I hope they’re not as charming.”

  I laugh, delighted by the flash of jealousy in his gaze and how put-out he seems. “Charming, my ass. You’re hot, I’ll give you that.”

  He growls, claiming my hand and walking me toward the exit. “What else?”

  “What? Does your ego need stroking?” My tone is teasing, and I enjoy the way he smiles down at me with laughter in his eyes.

  “I can think of some other things you could stroke.”

  I smooth a hand down his arm. “Whatever.”

  He accompanies me all the way to my car, then backs me against it the same way he did against the wall inside. My hips roll into his, just once, then they still.

  He notices though, his breath hitching. “Can I see you later?”

  “Only if you’re not worried about messing up your mojo.” I know how superstitious athletes can be, and I truly don’t want him off his game. In fact, I’d quite happily watch Jase mop the floor with Karson’s face.

  “Think it’s more likely to mess with my mojo if my balls shrivel up and fall off,” he says wryly. “You got me turned inside out, cutie pie.”

  Stretching up, I kiss him. “I’ll see you later, then.” My smile turns sly and naughty. “But not too late. I might have to get started without you.”

  His eyelids flutter closed. “You’re going to kill me, baby. I’ve gotta go bust some heads. Save your first orgasm for me.” He touches my neck lightly, then strides away. I watch his fine ass go, wishing I didn’t have those other clients who need me.

  It’s going to be a long day.

  13

  Lena

  I have to say, the
whole post-sex snuggling thing is growing on me. I have no idea how a guy who’s all flat planes and hard angles manages to be so wonderfully cuddly, but he is. He’s like my own sexy teddy bear. My own naked sexy teddy bear, whose cock is rapidly hardening against my butt. Just as I’m about to roll over and see if he’s up for more, my phone rings.

  Jase’s arms tighten around me. “Ignore it.”

  I hesitate. I’d love to, but it could be work. When I grab it, the caller ID reads: Work Wife.

  “Hey, Bree,” I answer, raising it to my ear.

  “Hi, girl!” she exclaims, almost drowned out by traffic in the background. “I have the best news.”

  Heart hammering, I sit up. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

  Bree pauses to talk to someone else, and I wait for her to return. “I’m telling you this because you’re kickass at your job and I want good things for you, but it goes against my instincts, because I don’t want to be trapped in that hellhole alone every day.”

  “What is it, Bree?” I demand. “I have a naked man in my bed, giving me sex eyes.”

  I know her so well I can picture the exact way her lips form an ‘O’. Jase waggles his brows, and mouths, “Who is it?”

  “Who?” Bree asks breathlessly. “Ohmygod, tell me he’s hot.”

  “Yeah, he’s hot.” I wink at Jase. “Tell you more tomorrow. How about you explain why you called?”

  “I want to know more now,” she complains. “You’re the worst girlfriend ever.”

  “I’ll tell you tomorrow,” I repeat. “Bree…”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She sighs, and some of the noise behind her fades away. “You didn’t hear this from me, but Englewood is hiring.”

  Excitement floods my veins and I clutch the phone tighter. Englewood is the public relations firm run by my idol, Maria Englewood. I listened to her speak at a conference once, and she blew my mind.

  “Seriously?”

  “I wouldn’t lie to you, Lee. You need to apply for that job.”

  “You think I have a chance?”

  Jase jackknifes up, a frown furrowing his forehead. When I wave away his concern, he sets his lips on the side of my neck and sucks. I can’t help the little moan that escapes.

  Bree shrieks with laughter, so loudly I have to hold the phone away from my ear. “You’re getting it on with him right now, aren’t you? Dirty girl.”

  “No,” I protest, but that only encourages Jase, who flicks his tongue over my skin and hums like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted.

  “You so are. I’m going to make this quick. Yes, you have a chance. You’re as good as anyone else. Now go get some, and then submit your application.”

  “I will, thanks, Bree.”

  Jase takes the phone from me, ends the call, and tosses it aside. “What was that about?”

  Before I can answer, he slides a hand down my belly and cups my sex, pressing in the most delicious way.

  My head falls back onto his shoulder. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to me,” he murmurs, but slips a finger into the wetness that’s already forming between my thighs. “What’s going on, cutie pie?”

  My hips buck, and I ride his hand. “I can’t think when you’re doing that.”

  He stops, and I growl in frustration. “Talk to me.”

  “Fine.” Sensing he’s not going to get busy with me until he’s heard what Bree had to say, I turn to face him and pull the sheet between us to separate my horny body from his. “That was a friend of mine from work. She was telling me about a job she thinks I should apply for.”

  His brow quirks up. “You don’t like the job you have?”

  I bide my time in replying, not wanting him to take this the wrong way. “Most of my job involves covering for spoiled jocks who think they can get away with anything, and that’s not where my heart is. No offense.”

  His jaw clenches, like my words hurt him, but he gives a jerky nod. “What would you rather be doing?”

  Rolling onto my side, I drag the sheet with me, and he does the same, propping himself up on his elbow.

  “I want to work with women who have been unfairly sidelined, or people who are underprivileged. Someone for whom I could really make a difference.”

  He watches me with those unreadable eyes. “I think that’s a really fucking cool dream. Is that what you’d be doing at this other job?”

  “Maybe. The woman who runs it is amazing. I’d happily worship the ground she walks on, but…” I gnaw on my lower lip until he smooths a thumb over it.

  “But what?”

  “It’s not a sure thing, and my manager, Adrian, promised I could have my choice of clients if I worked a miracle with you.”

  A teasing smile lights his face. “So you’re using me for your career?”

  “About as much as you’re using me. The point is, I don’t know if Englewood—that’s the name of the firm—would even want me. If they did, there’s every possibility I’d start at the bottom, doing similar work to when I started. I’ve already paid my dues at my current job, so maybe I should just suck it up and wait for it to finally pay off.”

  “Why wouldn’t they want you?” Jase asks. When I laugh, he adds, “I’m serious. I’ve seen firsthand how good you are. They’d be stupid not to hire you. Anyway, so what if they didn’t? It doesn’t hurt to get in the ring and fight for what you want.”

  At this, I can’t help but smile. Trust him to use an MMA metaphor. But he’s right. The worst Englewood can do is reject me, and if Adrian knows I’m considering moving on, won’t it increase my value to him?

  “You know what? I think I will apply.” I wriggle closer and kiss him. “Thank you for talking it through with me.”

  “No problem.” He tears the sheet aside. “Now I’d like to claim my reward.”

  Slowly and deliberately, I trace my tongue around the outside of my lips. “I think that can be arranged.”

  He groans. Then I trail open-mouthed kisses all the way down his gorgeous body to his impressive erection, and take it in my mouth. Before long, he’s groaning a whole lot more.

  Jase

  My palms are sweaty as I pace the length of the living room floor, back and forth over the soft carpet, earning the occasional reproachful glance from Nick, who’s seated on the sofa with his laptop on his knee, looking like he was born to wear a suit. In contrast, I feel like a gorilla stuffed into a kid’s tuxedo. It’s stiff and itchy and sits funny across my chest. Or maybe that’s the nerves. Public speaking isn’t really my thing.

  But the speech I’m due to give in a little over an hour isn’t the only reason I’m wound tighter than a spinning back fist. Tonight will be the first time Lena has seen my home. I usually visit hers, which we both seem to prefer. I like knowing that she isn’t after me for my money or mansion, and she likes knowing I don’t look down on her living situation. Damned if I know why she’d expect me to, but perhaps a douchebag ex has.

  “Calm down, Jase,” Nick says, looking up from his laptop. “You’ll be fine. We’ve gone over your speech, and you know what you’re doing. It’ll be over soon.”

  “Not soon enough,” I grumble, and check my phone again. No texts or calls from Lena. “We need to go. Where is she?”

  Nick chuckles. “We don’t have to leave for another fifteen minutes, and she’s the one who arranged this, so she won’t be late.”

  I wish I had as much confidence as he does. This niggling little fear is working its way under my skin, leaving me with a crawling dread that she’ll change her mind and decide not to come. That she’ll abandon me when I need her support.

  Swearing, I tug at the collar of my shirt. It’s insane how insecure this event is making me. Normally, I wouldn’t care if a girl I was seeing bothered to turn up. I might even prefer to go alone. But right now, I crave the sound of Lena’s voice telling me I’ll kill it, and the sensation of her palms on my chest, over my heart. Fuck, I’m becoming a sap, and I don’t even care. I’ll hand over my balls for
her safekeeping if it means she gets here in the next five minutes and talks me off the ledge.

  I throw a jab-straight combo, shadowboxing to take the edge off my nerves. Nick sighs and props his feet up to make sure he’s out of my way. Then, finally, there’s a knock at the door. I hurry to answer, not caring if I seem desperate, or anxious for reassurance. I fucking am.

  Throwing the door open, I start to say hello and nearly have a heart attack. My hand goes to my chest, and I swear to God, I growl. I’ve never made a sound like it before, but the sight of Lena in a black and red dress that reveals way too much of the most tempting tits on the planet robs me of my ability to speak. I stare at her like an asshole, and the only thing missing is the drool hanging from the corner of my mouth. I’m torn between the desire to crow my victory to anyone who’ll listen, show her off and treat her like the queen she is, and the violent impulse to wrap my body around her so no other man can get an eyeful of what’s rightfully mine. She has my insides twisted in so many knots I don’t know if I’ll be able to untie them.

  What would she do if I threw her over my shoulder and dragged her to the bedroom? I want to strip her bare and see what she has beneath that dress. Is she wearing a bra? Because it doesn’t look like it, and damned if I don’t want to check to see if she’s going commando as well. My gaze skims down her body, stopping on her toes, which have a freshly applied layer of scarlet paint and are clad in a pair of three-inch fuck-me heels. My heart stutters. She’s going to be the end of me.

  She clears her throat, and I rip my eyes away from her feet, feeling like a weirdo in ten different ways. Fortunately, she’s smiling. Her lips are the same brilliant red as her dress, toes, and shoes. I want to lay siege to them. As far as I’m concerned, that mouth belongs to me. If that makes me a caveman, so be it.

  “That’s exactly what I was going for,” she says, stepping closer and cocking her head. She smells like flowers, and it hits me that I should have bought her a bouquet or something. Man, I’m out of practice.