Her eyes soften and she smiles, prompting me to say, “I want to ask you a question now.”
“Okay.”
“Why do you always ask why? This isn’t the first time you’ve asked me that.”
“In my experience, no one ever does something without wanting something in return. There’s always an ulterior motive. Other than with my brother, other people and relationships in my life have been harvested to satisfy some need or desire or issue for the other person. I guess I’m trying to learn from my mistakes. And asking why and being up front to understand the intention seems like a good step in accomplishing that. ”
Tucking her hair behind her ear, I speak earnestly, “Not everyone does something to get something in return, or from selfish motives. They do it because that’s a part of who they are. They actually want to be loving, to be caring, to want more for the other person. By asking why or assuming the worst, or in not letting them give to you, you’re denying them an opportunity to give you a gift. And I guess themselves too – though not a selfish gift. It’s the most basic, loving, caring human emotion, the need to do a good deed or good work or to show love. Why does everything have to require an concealed motive?”
She just shrugs, but I can see the wheels turning in her mind. While I don’t understand her need to always ask, I can see that the answer sooths something in her and I’m glad. She reaches up and puts her hands on either side of my face. Rising to her toes, her moth descends to mine and she places a soft kiss on my lips, lingering there, eyes open and watching me. I stare back, letting her see the want and desire in my eyes and when she pulls back inch-by-inch, I can see the feelings reflecting back at me. “Thank you,” she murmurs.
Nodding my head, I take a deep breath and pull her with a little tug on her hand to the couch. “Would you like to watch a movie or something until it’s time for us to go.”
She shakes her head no and as I’m about to ask her what she’d like to do instead, she surprises me by staring at me for a moment, and then pushing me back onto the couch and straddling me. “Can I ask you a question?” I nod my head, words failing at the moment as her most intimate parts press firmly and tightly against my own. “Do you feel whatever this is between us? This… connection?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“I’ve never felt this way before,” she says quietly as if it’s a confession she’s afraid to say too loudly, as if doing so will make it disappear.
“Babe, me either. Why do you think I’ve been so persistent with you?”
She smiles and instead of saying more with words, she uses her body. Plunging her tongue into my mouth, I’m both shocked and delighted. Her seemingly incongruous words and actions confuse and amaze me. This is not at all what I expected. But I’m certainly not going to argue. Though, I gather my wits and begin to suggest that perhaps we should slow down, when she suddenly pulls away, “For once, I don’t want to ask myself why. I just want to lose myself in the answer I already know. And the answer is, that I want you, Jax. Instead of watching a movie right now, I have something else in mind and just to be clear, I do have an agenda.”
Her words make me growl and I smash my lips to hers. Her hands grasp my shoulders and I can feel her nails digging into shirt. I put my hands on her hips and pull her flush against mine. She starts grinding her core against my cock and the friction makes me insane. Ripping my mouth from hers, I stare into her eyes, “As much as I’d like to take you to my room right now and introduce myself to every single part of your body, I reluctantly must acknowledge that there isn’t nearly enough time for me to have my way with you thoroughly.” The whole time I’m talking, she’s running her nails up and down my chest and it’s making me crazy. I want to let my eyes roll to the back of my head and just enjoy the sensation. Oh, what the fuck. Leaning forward, I remove her shirt over her head and hiss when I take in her lace covered tits. Leaning forward, I take a nipple into my mouth through the lace and revel in the sound of her gasps and moans.
“I thought you said there isn’t enough time for sex.”
“There isn’t enough time for that, but there is enough time for me to make you feel good. Let me take care of you.”
Without waiting for her to reply, I unzip her jeans and shove my hand down the front of her panties. Feeling her slippery folds, I insert a finger into her wet center. She responds by putting her mouth on mine and gasping into my mouth. She grinds her hips against mine so hard and so fast it’s as if she can’t control the primal urge she has to come. I insert another finger and smile against her mouth when she gasps. “Oh god, Jax. That feels so good. Please, don’t stop.”
“I’m not going to stop, babe.” I turn my hand and press my thumb hard against her clit and as soon as I do, I can feel her walls suck my fingers like a vacuum. She pumps her hips up and down, fucking my fingers until she let’s go with a cry. “That’s it. Come for me.”
“Oh god, I’m coming! I’m coming!”
I continue to stroke her until she comes down and then collapses against me. I rain kisses all over her face, “That was so hot, babe. Watching your eyes darken, seeing your face as you let go. Utterly beautiful. I’m so hard for you.”
“Let me take care of that.” She tries to unzip my jeans, but I push her hands away gently and hold them in my own. “No babe. That was all about you.”
“But, I want to return the favor.”
“You will. But later when we have unlimited time, okay? For now, let me hold you and we can watch a little TV, chat or whatever you want to do before we have to leave, okay?”
“Okay.” She gives me another kiss and then, sighing and silently applauding my self-restraint, I help her put her shirt back on and straighten her clothes. “Jax, will you just… hold me?”
“Yes, please.” I pull her into my arms and tuck her into my side. She places her head on my shoulder and I turn the TV on and start flipping channels. I’m so incredibly hard and I can’t help but wince at the pain when I adjust myself, but it’s so worth it. Having her here, feeling her in my arms, recalling the cries on her lips, I run my fingers through her hair and once again wish that my responsibilities for the night were over so I could just bury myself in her and get lost. Interestingly, I find that I have the question of why on my own lips. Why did it take so long for fate to deliver this creature to me?
Leaving Jax’s house is not an easy thing to do – my whole body is in complete protest. After just a small taste of him, I want more, so much more. Thoughts of going back to his bedroom so we can continue what began on the couch, consume my mind. But, after the tour, talk and make out session, we have to get ready and be on our way so he can get to the weigh-in on time.
When we arrive at the casino, Jax insists on walking me all the way to my seat in the front row. Several people call out to him and wish him luck, and several women scream his name as we pass. Their cries and yells to him startle me. He nods to some, but ignores others completely. “Okay, here’s your seat, babe. Just enjoy the chaos and when this is done, I’ll be right back here to get you, okay?”
“Okay,” I nod with a smile and sit down.
“Remember what I said. This will be a little rowdy and crazy, but basically it’s just an opportunity for press and fans to take photos and for fighters to trash talk one another. Don’t let it worry you or anything, it’s all meant to be a build up to add excitement to the fight.”
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. Just do your thing. I’m excited to be here with you.”
“I’m happy you’re here too. It’s just I know this is your first fight and I don’t want you to worry about anything, or worse, never want to come back.”
Standing from my seat, I put my hand on his chest, “Hey, stop worrying. I’m excited, okay? This will be fun! It will take more than a little catcalling and rowdiness to upset me. In fact, I have those exact things planned for later.” I lean forward and give him a kiss that I meant to be quick, but when he puts his hands on my hips, pulls me clos
er, then opens his mouth under mine, I quickly forget where we are and lose myself in everything except him. He ravages my lips with his and kisses me so hard, it’s almost bruising. It feels like a possessive branding in front of everyone and I’m completely okay with this. I know for a fact I will never get enough of this man. I feel his kiss in my whole body – my scalp tingles, lips burn, my nipples harden, my pussy pulses and my toes curl in my shoes. I’ve never felt this way before – it’s completely consuming.
When someone clears their throat, it brings us back down to earth and breaks us apart. We stand nose to nose for a minute, his eyes full of promises for later, before he gives me one more kiss on the lips and pulls away. Behind him, an older man is giving him a combination of an irritated look and an amused smirk. Jax sighs, “Just a second, Gil.”
“I’ve been standing here and it’s already been a lot longer than a second, boy.”
Rolling his eyes, Jax tucks my hair behind my ear, “Don’t forget, I’ll meet you right here.”
“I won’t forget.”
Nodding, he turns to the man behind us, “Gil, this is Rowan. Rowan, this is my coach, and the almost daily pain in my ass, Gillespie.”
“Everyone calls me Gil,” he tells me, voice sounding like gravel.
Feeling embarrassed that we were so carried away in front of him, I give him a shy smile and a wave, “Hi, Gil. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Hi, darlin’, it’s nice to meet you too. Please excuse me, but I need to get my fighter backstage.”
“Oh, of course.”
With another smile, Jax kisses my forehead and walks away. Sitting in my seat, I take in the view as he walks away from me with Gil at his side. Before he reaches his destination, a sultry blonde with legs that go on for miles encased in super short shorts and boobs so big they’re busting out of her tank top, approaches him. My eyes narrow as I see her slide her hands up Jax’s chest, and I feel a curl of jealousy almost choke me. Watching closely at Jax’s reaction, I let out a sigh of relief when I see him remove her hands, shake his head and walk away. She’s left standing there with an annoyed smile on her face and I do my best not to stand up and point at her while laughing evilly. I’m glad he remembers our ‘I don’t share’ chat.
Fans, fighter entourages, and press continue to crowd the room and while nothing is happening on stage yet, I hear multiple clicks from the shutters of more cameras than I can count. I’m seated in the front row waiting for the weigh-in to start, and my mind goes back to my conversation with Jax earlier. The things he said about not everyone having an ulterior motive and telling me that I deserve love, made me need to be close to him badly. I can’t hold myself back any longer – denying my need and want for him is no longer possible. It feels disingenuous. No one’s ever said those things to me and my reaction to his words feels visceral. Sure, Tyson has always told me similar things, but he’s my brother. Something about a man like Jax saying them is…well…different. It’s almost as if my soul stood up and took notice to his words and branded them there making me believe he’s right. He makes me feel hope.
Pushing the thoughts aside for now, promising myself I’ll evaluate them more later, I take in the stage in front of me. There are a few people on stage as well as a couple scantily clad girls in bikinis. I’m not exactly sure what their roles are and I have no idea where they fit into the events Jax outlined, but they look happy to be there as they talk in animated fashion to each other. There’s a large scale right in the center that’s so big everyone in the room will be able to see the results. Jax told me each fighter in the card and their opponent are called by the announcer, and they each come to the stage, disrobe to their skivvies, then step on the scale in front of the MMA commissioner, president of the fighting organization and all the spectators. Once they confirm the fighter’s weight, they stand with their opponent and get their photos taken.
I did a little research about MMA fighting this week because I don’t want to be completely ignorant about something that is a part of Jax’s life. What I read explained that the weigh-in is done to make sure the fighters are within their weight class, but that this is also a way to get fans enthusiastic about the fights. Each weight class has a minimum and maximum weight. If the fighter is beyond the maximum for their specific weight class, they’re not allowed to fight and get disqualified, sort of, even before the fight begins.
As more people take the stage, a man that walks to the microphone and taps it making sure it’s live, before speaking, captures my attention. “Ladies and Gentleman, thank you for joining us for tonight’s pre-fight weigh-in. Before we get started I’d like to thank all of our sponsors and the Arizona Red Rock Casino for hosting us. Now, let’s get started! First up is our welterweight division.”
Two fighters are announced and they come forward from back stage and smile and perform for the crowd. An entourage accompanies them, and I assume their coach must be one of the members, but I’m not sure. Then, as each fighter is announced once again individually, they begin to disrobe, handing each article of clothing to a member of their entourage. Once they’re wearing nothing but their briefs, they walk forward and stand still on the scale. Their weights are announced and documented by a panel of people sitting in front of them, then the opponents face one another in a fighting stance, pictures are taken, they shake hands, then exit the stage.
When Jax’s friend Levi is announced, I can’t help but clap my hands and cheer for him. His enthusiasm is apparent and he is a good entertainer, sauntering out and flexing his muscles for the crowd. After he strips, he winks at the crowd and some chicks in the crowd reward him by screaming his name. Cameras snap and click when he steps on the scale. “One hundred and sixty-six pounds for Levi ‘The Bounty’ Hunter!” Levi pauses, flexes again and then waits patiently while his opponent is also weighed, casting smiles at the crowd. Once he’s finished, they stand and face each other in a fighter’s stance while cameras shoot and film.
The next category is middleweight, which is Jax’s category. He told me that it’s up to one hundred and eighty-five pounds. I recognize his friend Cole, and when he comes out it’s the same song and dance as those before him. There’s a man that looks an awful lot like Jax that goes on stage with Cole and cheers him on, even egging on the crowd about how great Cole is and that Cole ‘Rampage’ Russell is going to “kick ass and take names”. It seems a bit over the top and he’s certainly louder and crazier than those before him have been. In fact, Cole’s posture seems to be that of someone who is embarrassed and I can’t help but wonder what that’s all about.
Finally, they call Jax’s name and his opponent. Jax’s opponent Lance ‘The Hammer’ Henderson goes to the scale first and I can’t help but feel a little nervous looking at him. He’s ripped and maintains poses and a stance that highlight that fact, but he doesn’t even crack a smile the whole time. They call out his weight – one hundred and eighty four pounds - then he flexes and growls at the crowd again before walking to the side. “Next up, let me hear you make a little noise for Lance’s opponent, Jackson ‘Hands of’ Stoooooooone,” the announcer drags out his name and the crowd goes crazy. Maybe it’s just me but it seems like he gets a bigger and louder reaction than those before him. There are women screaming their bloody heads off such that I feel possession and a mild irritation at them runs through me. Part of me wants to walk right up there and put my mouth all over him making it clear that he’s mine. God, possessive much Rowan?
My eyes never leave him as I watch him take his shorts, t-shirt, shoes and socks off. This is the first time I’ve gotten a good look at his body and I fucking hate I have to share it with everyone else in the room. My eyes rake his frame and my mouth waters at his pure perfection. His body is tight and toned, his abs stand out and he has that mouth-watering v at his hip bones that goes down and disappears in his briefs. My fingers twitch and my body shudders at the sight. I want to run my hands all over him and trace the tribal tattoo that covers his upper left arm and chest
with my tongue. When Jax steps on the mechanical scale he turns to the crowd and his eyes find mine. He gives me a smirk as if he knows I’m salivating over the sight of him. My grin reaches epic proportions at that look and I pay close attention as the announcer calls out the one hundred and eighty-five pounds exactly that Jax weighs. He flexes for the crowd and smiles his dimple panty-dropping smile and my body flushes with want when he winks at me. Walking to his opponent, they face each other and take the fighting position. His opponent is stone faced but Jax has a light smile on his face like he refuses to take all of this too seriously.
Then, they’re off the stage and I sit back in my seat trying to calm my rapid breathing. Sitting through the rest of the weight card, I lose myself to the chaos around me. I can’t help but laugh when I realize the bikini-clad women on the stage, do nothing but stand there and clap. It seems silly to me but what the hell do I know? Before long, Jax is standing in front of me with a wide smile and heat in his eyes. “You ready, babe?”
“Yes, I’m more than ready,” I reply almost breathlessly. Jax looks at me and heat flashes in his eyes.
“Let’s go,” he replies, his voice gravelly with his desire.
Before we can make it out of the door, Jax’s friends are in front of us. There are fans surrounding them trying to get their attention, but all of them are focused on us. “What are we doing now, Jax?” Levis asks with a grin on his face.
“We aren’t doing anything. Rowan and I are going to get something to eat and bring it back to my place. I don’t know, or care, what you all are doing.”
“What do you mean? It’s tradition that all of us go out for a big dinner of pasta after a weigh-in since we can gain all that weight back we worked so incredibly hard to lose. You know this is what makes that pain worth it. Besides, we all need the carbs before our fight,” Cole says.
“Are you seriously breaking tradition, man?” Ryder asks.
“You all sound like a bunch of pussies. Go do whatever the hell you want. I’m going out with my girl.”
Fighting Envy Page 14