The Fighter Duet: Two Full-Length, Red-Hot New Adult Fighter Romances

by Tia Louise

  Her fingers were in my hair, and she was pulling, arching against my mouth. I couldn’t help a smile as she started to come. She was gorgeous falling apart for me.

  “Derek, please…” Her fingernails scraped against my shoulders, and I rose up to fill her with all the love and desire that had been building in me for the last ten days.

  She cried out as I drove deeper, pulling her body up so that our chests were together. I held her as I sat back on my feet, letting her ride as I moved her. Her beautiful, full breasts were right at my mouth, and I gently caught one, giving it a light kiss rather than my usual, forceful pull. I’d have to save that for later.

  “I want to go deeper,” I spoke into her neck.

  “Yes, yes,” she nodded, dropping back onto the bed.

  Turning her over quickly, my hands slid to her hips, lifting her so I could position myself at her entrance. She was on all fours, her beautiful ass perked, thighs parted. One hard push, and she cried out, arching up. I reached around, massaging her clit until she started bucking against me, sending me even deeper. Closing my eyes the intense need, that primitive hunger took over. It was relentless and strong and so fucking good.

  Melissa and I usually made love, but sometimes, we’d let go and truly fuck. This was one of those times. Her hand stretched out to hold the headboard, and I continued massaging between her legs as the force of my orgasm rose in my pelvis, tightening my ass.

  “Fuck,” I shouted, my fingers closing over hers in front of us. I had to hold onto something or I’d crush her. The jerking in my cock had me going blind. Three more hard drives, and we were both flying.

  “Oh, god, yes.” Her body trembled, and I held onto her a moment longer, allowing the last remnants of our high to fade. We were both breathing hard as we slid down to the bed. Her face turned into my chest, a slender arm went around my waist. I wrapped both my arms around her before bending down to kiss her head and inhale another deep breath of her delicious scent.

  Her voice was thick and sexy when she spoke. “I’ll overlook the occasional separation if you make it up to me like that.”

  I laughed, tracing a finger down her back. “You’re so damned sexy, how do I ever leave you?”

  She lifted her head then, resting it on her hand. A dark curl slid over her cheek, and I wrapped it around my finger.

  “How’s Stuart?”

  “He’s not doing so good. He’s got things… he hadn’t told anybody about.”

  Her beautiful blue eyes were serious now. “How long before you have to go back?”

  “I took the red-eye so I could be here as long as possible this weekend, but I need to head out on Sunday.”

  My chest ached as her brow fell. I knew she wasn’t angry, but I hated to make her sad. “He’s your friend, and he needs you. It’s just, Dex misses you, and I…”

  “Elaine’s talking about coming back for Christmas. What if we all spent it there, together? His uncle’s place is amazing.”

  “You think you’ll be that long?”

  I released an exhale. “Hard to know, but if I am, I want you and Dex with me.”

  Her eyes traveled around my face as she reached up to run her thumb across my cheek. “We can be there with you now if you want. My job travels.”

  Our last weeks on the horse ranch flickered through my mind—the late nights, the bad nights. The night I had to leave everything and ride across the plains until I found him alone, camped near one of the falls. Stuart was fighting everything right now, including his will to live, and our progress was slow and painful.

  “I’m not sure he’d appreciate company yet, but a lot can change in a month.”

  A small voice squealed down the hall, and we both stopped. “He’s awake,” Melissa said with a grin, and I was up before she could move.

  “I got this.” Scooping my boxers off the floor, I jerked them over my hips. “Be right back.”

  Dex was holding the side of his crib, blue eyes bright and baby mouth grinning big when he saw me. A flash of love warmed my chest. “Come here, little guy.”

  Scooping him up, he jerked back toward the crib. I only paused a moment to grab his blue blanket, putting it in his arms before he lay his dark head on my shoulder. “I’ve missed you,” I whispered, kissing him and taking a deep breath of sweet baby smell.

  Melissa was in bed with her nightgown back on, but she was unfastening the tiny buttons down the front as I climbed in beside her.

  “He’s getting so strong.” Dex reached for her as soon as I sat. “How long before he walks?”

  She laughed stretching up to kiss my lips before taking him and sliding down on her side. “At least two more months,” she said, pulling him close to her breast.

  “Good. Don’t want to miss that.”

  Dex latched on quickly, and I reached down to touch the tiny fingers now curled against her soft skin. “Even this is hard to miss.”

  “Give me a kiss,” she whispered, and I gladly complied.

  Wrapping my arm around her shoulders as she gave our son his breakfast, I rested my chin on Melissa’s head. My eye caught the eagle and SF tattoo on my bicep, and that old secret I carried, the one that could take me away from her for a very long time itched at the back of my mind.

  I thought about the news article. Slayer Bennett had gone from criminal to hero. I’d done just the opposite. At the same time, the law, the right thing, these concepts grew nebulous when I thought about what was at stake, the choice that was taken away from me.

  Melissa had never pressed me for details about that night, and as yet I hadn’t given her any. Patrick’s advice was never to tell her. Not because she wouldn’t understand—she’d be hurt, but she’d understand. Rather, it was because she’d blame herself, he said.

  Happy baby noises were in my ear, and my beautiful future wife was safe in my arms. The secret I carried was an issue only if I let it be, Patrick said. Our one other witness agreed with him. Yet the idea of hiding my crime grated against who I was, my status as a Marine, a retired officer. I was sworn to defend our laws. I’d helped prosecute criminals for a living.

  Exhaling deeply, I pressed my lips firmly against Melissa’s head. My best friend was in trouble—his life could be on the line. My fiancée needed me here with her and my son. Questions of justice and atonement would have to wait. For now I had to focus on the ones I loved. My duty for today was with them, but that wouldn’t be the case forever.

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  Also FREE in Kindle Unlimited:

  The ONE TO HOLD Boxed Set

  THE FIGHTER DUET

  THE COWBOY DUET

  The Prince & The Player (Dirty Cinderella)

  Paranormal Romances:

  One Immortal

  One Insatiable

  All are stand-alone novels.

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  Thank you for reading!

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you enjoyed One to Love!

  Kenny has been one of my favorite characters since I was planning One to Keep, Patrick & Elaine’s book. I knew her story would be heartbreaking and intense, and I hope you fell in love with her and Slayde as much as I did.

  Stuart’s book, One to Leave turned out to be equally intense, but just as enjoyable to write. I’d never written a cowboy romance, and it was sweeping and gorgeous under the Big Sky in Montana. Elaine and Patrick, and even Mariska are there… (wink). I hope you’ll check out the COWBOY DUET, FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

  Up next in this set is One Insatiable, a paranormal romance in which Slayde’s boxing buddy Koa “Stitch” is the hero.

  He’s a black panther-shifter out of jail and headed home to Hawaii when he finds himself drawn north to Woodland Creek, Indiana. There he meets a sexy little lynx shifter named Mercy who helps him reclaim all he has lost.

  It’s loosely based on the Hades & Persephone myth, and it’s SUPERHOT! Even if you think you don’t like shifter romances, I hope you’ll give it a chance—Koa has become a fan-favorite book boyfriend, even among readers who swear they don’t enjoy paranormal romance!

  Please let me know what you think of my books. Email me your thoughts, feedback, what you liked—even what you didn’t like! I really like hearing from readers.

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  Finally, if you enjoyed my books, I hope you’ll leave a short, sweet review wherever you purchased your copy. I love to see what readers think.

  Thank you again for spending time with me. I hope to hear from you in the future!

  Stay sexy,

  <3 Tia

  One Insatiable

  Koa & Mercy

  One wounded panther, one restless lynx, one insatiable hunger.

  Mercy Quinlan is a whip-smart lynx and the youngest in her shifter clan. She’s tough and independent and dreams of escaping her alpha sister’s control and living life on her own terms.

  When a lone black panther shows up in her hometown, Mercy is intrigued. He’s just passing through, which makes him perfect… Along with his broad shoulders, defined muscles, and sexy fighter moves.

  Koa “Stitch” Raiden is picking up what’s left of his broken life. Exiled from his black panther clan, he’s running from Princeton to Seattle when he’s drawn to Woodland Creek.

  He’s aware Mercy is watching him. What he doesn’t know is the sexy little vixen who sneaks through his window each night is both the trouble he doesn’t need and the hope he can’t live without.

  A STANDALONE ROMANCE, loosely based on the Hades & Persephone myth. Contains alluring alpha heroes, scorching-hot shifters, and panty-melting sexy times. Keep the fans nearby... Readers 18 and older only, please.

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  For the fans of One to Love, and to

  everyone who loves a sexy shifter tale as much as I do!

  And always, to Mr. TL.

  1

  Fight

  Mercy

  He’s strangling me…

  The pressure on my neck grows stronger, and I’m pinned against the man’s chest. His arm is an iron band around my waist holding me trapped against his doughy body.

  Harder…

  The sour stench of his perspiration fills my nostrils, and I start to choke. Adrenaline spikes in my veins, my eyes heat, my nose runs. I’m going to shift.

  Fight it…

  He would never see it coming. I’d rip his arms out of their sockets, and the pain would saturate his brain before his eyes even registered what happened.

  Focus, Mercy.

  I can’t blow my cover. As far as the humans in Woodland Creek know, I’m just as normal as they are. My shifter clan is deep undercover, and we have to keep it that way.

  Scenting the air, I can tell he’s nervous. He lacks the conviction of what he’s doing. Closing my eyes and calming my thoughts, I use the crude human movements I’ve mastered—grasp his wrist and jerk it down.

  Thrusting my elbow sharply back and up, I plant a solid hit to his solar plexus. At the same time I do a quick twirl under, positioning myself in front, facing him, still holding his wrist. It’s a perfectly choreographed escape move, and I execute it with ease.

  A muffled grunt, and the man pitches forward at the waist gasping for air. I hold his neck and pretend to jam my knee into his nose to break it. But I stop before making contact.

  “And that is how you escape an attack from behind.” I release Jim’s wrist and turn to the small audience now clapping.

  A low murmur ripples across the group of mostly college-aged girls, and my assistant circulates a clipboard holding the signup sheet for Saturday’s class.

  Smiling, I turn back to my demonstration partner. “You okay?” I grasp Jim’s shoulder, giving it a brief massage.

  “It’s okay. I’m used to it, Mercy,” he grunts.

  It’s true he’s experienced playing the role of my attacker, and while I might have winded him slightly with that elbow to the ribs, he doesn’t show any signs of discomfort now. Jim’s a big, fleshy guy, perfect for our demonstrations.

  I adjust my black sports bra and smooth the waist of my black yoga pants as the clipboard continues through the small group of young women.

  “Classes are every Saturday starting at nine a.m. sharp. Your life is important and so is my time.” My voice resonates with authority the way Andy taught me. “All payments are in advance, and there are no refunds for missed classes.”

  I’ve just put on a show of being a badass, and the young women watch me, eyes round. When I first started this job, it used to make my insides squirm knowing I’m the same age as them or occasionally a little younger. I’m the baby of my shifter family, and not used to ordering people around, which doesn’t mean I’m a pushover. It just means I’m used to minding my own business and letting others mind theirs.

  “You have to command your class,” Andy had said. In time it became easier to play drill sergeant.

  Andy taught me the self-defense moves I now teach them. I hadn’t really needed to learn them, since as previously noted, I’m a shifter and stronger than any human man. Still, I suppose they’re good techniques to know.

  I started hanging around the gym a few years ago during a particularly harsh winter. I tried teaching myself to kickbox, trying to burn off my excess shifter-energy. I’d spent some time punching and kicking with zero form or technique. After a while, Andy asked if I’d like to take over the self-defense courses at the gym.

  I like to think it gives me a purpose, something I can do to help these human girls. The truth is, I’m bored. I want to leave this god-forsaken town so badly it hurts. I want to move to California where it’s always sunny and never snows, where I can get a small studio and a pottery wheel, and launch my career as a ceramics artist
.

  “Miss Mercy?” A timid blonde pulls me from my dreams.

  I smile. “You can just call me Mercy.”

  “Okay… Um…” Her eyes drop nervously to the mat. “I’m Sally. I’m not sure if I should sign up or not. I’m not very strong.”

  I scan her body. She’s an inch shorter than I am, skinny, and her arms show zero muscle mass—unlike mine, which are lined and tight like my exposed torso.

  “Strength isn’t as much a part of self-defense as technique,” I say, repeating the response Andy taught me. “It’s about surprise and evasion. Running away is as much a part of self defense as avoiding dangerous situations.”

  She still looks worried, and I add, “If you want, I can work with you before or after classes on strength training.”

  I’m not sure what made me say that. I’ve never offered to train anyone before.

  Her pale brow relaxes, and she even smiles. “Would you? That would help me so much.”

  I’m about to set up a time when the bell above the front door rings out, and a man in a suit, no tie, top button undone saunters in the gym. He’s clearly not dressed to stay.

  “Dude, your boyfriend’s here,” Jim says under his breath.

  Irritation flashes hot in my cheeks. “He’s not my boyfriend, and you need to wash your gym clothes. You stink.”

  I instantly regret being irritable with Jim, but Hayden Cross has been the bane of my existence for the last two years, since I turned twenty-one, with his entitled attitude and knack for showing up when I don’t want to see him, which is pretty much always.