In the Ring (BOXER Book 1)

by Rie Warren

  Spreading his ass between my two hands, I mashed my face into his cleft. My God! His ass was so cherry and hot, he burned the wet finger I slipped inside. I couldn’t think. I wouldn’t last. I had to have him.

  Hunkered on my hands above him, I grunted, “I wanna fuck you so deep, Mikey.” I thrust two lubed fingers back inside.

  “Ahhh. Yes. Quick, Liam. Quick before I come.”

  His cock was vertical on his stomach and the hardest I’d ever seen it.

  We both snapped the condom over me. We smeared lube onto me until my entire length gleamed and dripped between our fingers. I squirted lube directly into his chute, listening to his howl when I widened him more with three twined fingers.

  “Help me make love to you.”

  “Oh fuck, baby,” he whispered.

  We wrapped our hands around my cock. I shuddered with his touch and shouted when my cockhead kissed the outside ring of his hole. Michael continued to stroke me in his fist as I forced my head through his tight opening.

  My voice was raw from yelling. The feeling of that clamping muscle behind the tip of my cock made me want to plunge roughly inside. I stayed still.

  Michael panted and groaned. His ass looked incredible, split by my thick dick. I told him so, and his hole opened as if by magic as he swallowed convulsively in his throat.

  I took in the pink color on his cheeks. I skimmed my fingers through the tumble of hair on his forehead. I was only a couple inches inside him, but already it was the best fucking feeling in the world.

  Michael tucked his legs around my hips and used his heels to urge me forward.

  “Don’t want to hurt you,” I groaned, holding myself off him.

  “You won’t.”

  I wanted to pound his ass into the bed. I wanted to love him forever. I wanted to scald his insides with my come and own him inside out.

  With my chest pressed to his, I rolled my hips. His incredible heat sent shivers down my back. I panted as I pushed inside him, feeding my cock into Michael’s ass inch by slow inch. When I was fully seated inside, and his snug surrounds clamped down on me, I didn’t move.

  I couldn’t.

  I bent my face to his neck to lick a trail of sweat.

  I drowned in him. His face was a mask of agonized pleasure when I lifted up, but as soon as he drew in a ragged breath, his eyes opened. His irises glazed over with need. Need I could fulfill. His ass opened even more, and I pushed that final bit inside with a rocking motion of my hips.

  “Ungh,” Michael shouted with his head thrown back.

  I kissed his ear. “That’s it, Mikey. Feel me inside you?”

  Flexing my cock, I dug my hands into his hips. He clenched me again, milking me so good and I’d barely moved.

  “Now let me love you, sweetheart.” I pulled out and thrust deep.

  I swallowed his next shout and all the others after with my tongue sliding against his as my cock pushed in and out. The deliciously heavy weight of his meat slapped my belly in time to my thrusts. I’d used so much lube every motion created a loud squelch between our bodies.

  I kissed him until I was breathless. I fucked him hard until I almost tripped over the edge. I drank down his grunts. Pushing my hand between our slapping stomachs, I curled my fist around him.

  I quieted my doubts and his worries by making love to my man. His legs wound around my back as I moved more slowly, and more tenderly, and so gently I cried out at the feel of him taking me in over and over again.

  The first pulses of his orgasm squeezed my cock in a vault of heat. Rocking faster with each gust of Michael’s breath and every one of our unsaid words, I held his face in one hand, his ass in the other. Our lips met and melded as my cock lunged inside him.

  This is what he wants. This is what I need.

  His come splashed between us, and it set me off inside him. I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to.

  Michael shook against me when I whispered in his ear, “I love you, Michael.” Closing my arms around him, thrusting into him, I came inside him. “I love you so fucking much.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Float Like A Butterfly

  TWO MORNINGS LATER, I walked down the street, whistling under my breath. Michael and I finally had a few days off. Still soaring on my high from beating Reggie, nothing could touch me.

  I felt frigging free after telling Michael I loved him. He didn’t say it back, but that was okay. Maybe that was the thing about being in love—wanting to make the other person feel good. Feel cherished.

  Michael would know I treasured him this morning. I’d gotten up earlier than usual, a few hours after I’d crept back to my bed from his apartment. I planned to surprise him. After a twenty-minute run to my favorite bakery, I’d picked up some flaky, crusty, sexy, gooey pastries for my man, and a disgusting spinach-colored protein shake for me. I’d have to brush my teeth after the thick, green sludge before I kissed Michael good morning.

  I walked back slowly, savoring the beginning of a new day. The streets teemed with people. The morning was hazy. It was gonna be a hot one. I’d love to take Michael to the ocean for a weekend. That was definitely something to plan for in the future. I grinned even more, approaching our building.

  The grin slid right off my face when I caught sight of a lanky dude with carrot-colored hair leaning against the building.

  Wade.

  I tried to skirt around him, but he blocked my way. I couldn’t very well rough him up in the middle of the street, but I damn well wanted to. What was he doing? Why was he still here? Better yet, why was he lurking on Michael’s doorstep? Fucking stalker-ex asshole.

  He nodded at the white paper bag in my hand. “Breakfast in bed?”

  “Something like that.” I stared a hole through his freckled forehead.

  “I loved mornings like this with Michael. We’d wake up after a night of fucking, tangled around each other just to go at it all over again. Sometimes it was noon before we headed out together to find some new dive to get lunch. Fuel for the sex we’d get back to once we got home.”

  Jealousy wracked my body. “How nice for you.”

  “Convenient set-up you’ve got here. It’s like Michael is your secret kept man.”

  “You don't know what you’re talking about.” I grinded my teeth together.

  My fingers ripped through the paper bag as I clenched it too hard.

  Wade was asking for a beating as he invaded my space but I maintained my stance. I was the big, menacing wall between him and the building, and if he thought he was getting around me and through the door, he was dead wrong.

  Seemingly unconcerned, Wade took another step toward me. “Really? I had ten years with Michael, Liam, and you don’t think I know him inside and out. Literally? He’s star-struck, that's all. When the newness wears off, when he gets sick of not being able to be who he really is—because you’re a coward—he’ll come back to me. And I’ll be waiting.”

  So maybe Wade did know what he was talking about, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of getting under my skin.

  “You’re gonna have a long, lonely wait then.” Turning on my heel, I made for the doors.

  His final words hit me like a slap to the face. “I don’t think so. Michael won’t stick with a closet case for long.”

  I took the stairs to Michael’s floor. I let myself in with the key he’d given me. Finding him in the shower, I quickly shed my clothes and joined him.

  I swallowed his startled gasp with a devouring kiss. His next noise was a long moan as his fingers dug into my ass, and I rocked against him. Our rigid cocks nestled between our wet bellies. The slickness of the water and his soap was maddening. Perfect. Excruciating.

  Not enough.

  Leaving his lips, I moved to his throat. Sucking his skin, trailing my hands down his back, I bucked against him.

  “Bed,” he groaned.

  “No bed. Now.” Reaching out of the shower, I grabbed my shorts.

  With my wallet in
hand, I dug out a condom, rolled it down him. I leaned forward with my forearms braced against the tile and water streaming down my back.

  “I’m not fucking you raw, baby.” Michael’s hands wandered to my thrust-out ass.

  “Lube, in my wallet.”

  I hissed when his slickened fingers hit my crease and circled my hole. “I take it you want this fast.” Two fingers opened inside of me, and I beat my head against the shower.

  “Yeah.”

  “God, Liam. What’s gotten into you?”

  “You, hopefully.” I smiled at him over my shoulder and then bit into the muscle when his cock lined up with my pursed-open bud.

  He slapped my thighs wider, grasped my hips, and drove inside in one hot spike of need. He hit my prostate and grinded against it as soon as I yelled out. I backed up into him, dropped my head, and anchored my hands to the wall.

  Each of his thrusts lifted me to the balls of my feet before he exited completely. I banged my fist against the tile. He banged me. The chain reaction of his lunges, my famished asshole, his grunts and my shouts set me off.

  Come erupted from me. It plastered the tiles. I threw my head back, and my arms reached for the showerhead to hang on as Michael hammered into me over . . . and over . . . and over again. He dragged me to his chest, pumping from beneath me.

  “Baby, goddamn!” He bit my neck, my earlobe, and lifted me off my feet with his final rooting thrust. “Goddamn, Liam!”

  Pushing me against the shower wall, he ran his lips along my shoulders. I shivered at his touch and then yelped when the water turned ice cold.

  Michael laughed, hauling me from beneath the cold spray into the warm bathroom. He tossed the rubber into the trashcan and threw a towel at me. I’d shriveled up like a fucking prune from the arctic cold water, and he flicked his fingers at my dick.

  “That’s not very manly.”

  “Fuck you.” I dragged him into a headlock, pulling him to the bedroom.

  When I pushed him onto the bed, he landed on the bakery bag.

  “What’s this?” he asked, retrieving the bag from under his back.

  “Smushed breakfast, fat ass.”

  “What’s that?” He pointed at my Green Lantern shake.

  “Mud. Slush. Nasty stuff. Because of you.” I shuddered in distaste, unwrapping the clear straw.

  One taste and I wanted to shrivel up and die, like my death-by-frigid-shower cock. “Ugh.”

  “Glug glug!” The cheerful—naked—bastard sat cross-legged to munch on his mashed pastries.

  Flaky crust drifted down his chest and white cream covered his lips. He lewdly licked his mouth.

  After draining the horrid slimy concoction in one go, I bounced onto the bed. Lying down with my head in his lap, I caressed his thighs and hoped for a few leftover crumbs.

  “Open up, big guy.”

  A melting mouthful of dark chocolate-filled puff pastry heaven tantalized my taste buds when I took a big bite of Michael’s offering.

  “This isn’t on my diet.” Shuddup! Man of your dreams, naked, just fucked you, and handfeeding you the food of gods—fat gods.

  “Neither is my cock, but you seem to take it all right.” He winked.

  Oh, I love this. I love him. I shouldn’t say it again. I already said it once—

  “One . . . more . . . bite . . .” Michael tempted.

  He gave the morsel to me between a pinch of his fingers and I couldn’t figure out what tasted better. Michael or the mamma-mia pastry.

  Breakfast went sour fast when Michael’s phone rang in the middle of my food-gasm. He looked at the screen and then jumped off the bed. Holding a finger up to me, he left the room and shut the door.

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out Wade was the mysterious caller. He’d be working to get back in Michael’s bed as well as inside my head. I jerked on the spare set of clothes I kept at his place and headed to the living room.

  “No.” Michael said. His back was to me, head low, his hand on the wall in front of him. “No. I’m not doing that.” His tone lowered.

  I strained to listen.

  “I am not fucking around with him.”

  Breakfast turned to stone in my stomach. I tiptoed back to the bedroom and grabbed my gear: the open wallet on his bathroom floor, my socks and running shoes.

  Michael found me shoving my feet into the cross-trainers before I could make my escape.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Someplace else since you obviously don’t want me hearing your conversation with Wade.”

  Michael’s eyes turned slate-hard as he yanked on some sweats. He didn’t say anything.

  “That’s what I thought.” I stood and shoved my wallet into my pocket. “I ran into him this morning, hanging around outside.”

  “You saw him?”

  “Yep. He wanted to let me know I’d never be good enough for you, especially since I’m too lame to come out.” I folded my arms over my chest. My jaw muscle must have been leaping in anger and worry.

  “Wait. So, that’s what the whole fucking in the shower thing was about?”

  I snorted and headed for the door.

  Michael followed, slamming the door as soon as I opened it. “You needed to reassert yourself or something because you doubt how I feel about you?”

  “No, you jackass. I needed to be with you because I want you and I fucking love you and you haven’t had the balls to say it back.”

  Michael sucked in a breath.

  He shook his head and moved out of my way. “He called to say he won’t unlink our joint bank account or put the rest of my furniture in storage.”

  AKA, he isn’t letting you go.

  The anger Wade sparked earlier came back with a fury. Michael hadn’t even tried to explain why he couldn’t tell me he loved me, instead throwing pansy-ass Wade in my face. I was sick of it.

  “Does he really know about us? Because he sure as hell seemed to think he did.”

  Michael wheeled me around. “No one knows about us. Remember? Because you don’t want them to.”

  “I really think I should go now.”

  “Maybe you should.” His glare never softened.

  I flung open the door. “Maybe I won’t come back.”

  “Yeah? Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out, champ.”

  In the hallway, I clamped my teeth down hard. Something sure smelled funky about this whole deal because Wade definitely knew, and Michael was in denial. Fuck me, I was in denial about Michael apparently.

  I guessed our I’m gay for you honeymoon was over.

  I was sick with fear and jealousy and suspicion. The next few days were rocky at best, riddled with a thousand unanswered questions at worst.

  Michael and I met at the gym. We did our schtick. The schtick included new, extreme workouts. It wasn’t enough to lift weights and practice punches. Michael put me through the wringer as I pivoted inhumanly heavy barbells vertical to the floor from one side of me to the other.

  He had me bent over backward on a tilted bench press to crunch up, throw a basketball at him, catch it, and return to my upside down position only to repeat the ab-crunching maneuver another ninety-nine times.

  Devlin went over and above to make sure I knew how much this next match against The Tornado from Toronto meant.

  Sean watched Michael and me with all-too-knowing eyes.

  Michael? He ignored me unless he was punching me.

  Several days later when a knock sounded on my door, I expected Anya for our HBO Game of Thrones popcorn party. What? Those were the few empty calories I allowed myself to eat while I supped on the medieval fantasy concocted by Martin’s brilliant mind.

  Michael stood outside, holding a navy blue insulated bag. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t look at me.

  “You wanna come in?”

  “I brought your dinner.” He offered the zippered bag to me.

  “I’ve been doing okay on my own.”

  His sad eyes found mine.
“Have you? Because I haven’t.”

  The wall I’d built up blasted apart. “Jesus Christ, Michael. I’m a mess without you.” My voice broke.

  When I pulled him through the door, the bag swung wildly, probably upending the food. Who cared?

  He dropped the bag to the floor then our hands were all over each other.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered between kisses.

  “Bullshit.” God, his lips, I’m starved for them.

  I threaded my fingers through his hair and slanted his face to mine. My kiss was deep, plunging, brutal. My hip hit the counter. My foot hit the bag of food, and I laughed.

  “I can eat later. Right now I want to eat you.”

  “I missed you.”

  I chuckled for the first time in days. With his jeans opened and rolled down to his upper thighs, I kneeled in front of him.

  I reacquainted myself with his cock. “Missed you, too.”

  He jerked my head up. “Not just this.”

  His meat fell heavily against my cheek, that one throbbing vein beating against the corner of my mouth. “No. Everything about you. Everything with you, sweetheart.”

  And I was done with talking. I had him down my throat where I chugged on him. He clasped me closer with his hands in my hair. He filled my mouth, and his thick pressure on my tongue got me off. I was ready to come myself without a single touch to my cock when another knock sounded.

  Fuck.

  I held his tip inside my mouth, mumbling around it. “Anya.”

  “What?” He drilled down my esophagus and pulled out.

  Saliva trailed from my parted lips to his rigid dick. “Anya’s here.”

  “Why?” His hands fisted in my hair.

  I lunged up to kiss his belly. “HBO. Game of Thrones night.”

  “I thought the season was over.”

  “Amazon streaming. We’re addicted.”

  “Really?” One of his eyebrows rose. “I’ll be over there”—he motioned to the double-huge, leather club chair in my living room—“and we can play a game of thrones together.”

  Deal.

  I rushed to the door, dragging up my sweats. Anya took one look at my flushed face and smiled.