by Molly McLain
“Umm, I love the sound of that. But why wait for the tour to be over? Last I checked, we still have ten hours before I leave for the airport.” She grinds her pussy in slow circles over my erection, eliciting a throaty chuckle from me.
“Ten hours, huh? That’s a lot of fucking, but I think I’m up for the challenge.”
“Well, Sebastian. Better tell your boys to get ready ‘cause I see a houseful of little Miles’ in our future, and I’m not getting any younger,” she says before pressing her sweet lips to mine.
“Then let’s stop talking and get back to fucking,” I growl happily as she tilts her pelvis and lowers herself down my rigid cock.
Fireworks explode all around us outside, ringing in the New Year, but they do little to rival the fireworks taking place right here in this room. I gaze up into her beautiful blue eyes as she rides me and I’m already looking forward to our next round.
“I love you, Brooke.”
“I love you too, Sebastian,” she cries out as the orgasm takes over. I pump into her a few more times before filling her with hot ribbons of my release. When she looks down at me and smiles her sweet smile I find myself cheering my boys on.
“Swim on, motherfuckers!”
The End
About Rhonda
Thank you for stepping into Sebastian and Brooke’s world with me. Find out how these two meet by reading Across the Miles and the sequel, Miles Apart.
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ABOUT RHONDA JAMES
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Rhonda James is an Amazon best-selling author who loves a good HEA, believes nice guys don’t finish last, and strives to create a book boyfriend for all her readers. Rhonda is married and lives in Michigan with her family. When not writing, some of her guilty pleasures include kissing, diving into a good book, and wasting time on Facebook, though she may do one more than the others.
The Main Event
Bestselling Author
Sapphire Knight
Chapter 1
Aria
The crowd cheers, chanting that they want more as the band finishes up their song. They’re all so loud that we can hear them in Gav’s waiting area. I’m still in awe that the MGM got Godskank to open for the fight. It’s New Year’s Eve and a title fight above all things, so I guess they’re in it for the exposure and some premium event seating.
My man’s here to claim the heavyweight belt, and to honor him, In This Moment has shown up to play his fight song. Gavin was speechless and adorable when the event coordinator called, informing him that the band had contacted MGM wanting to show their support for Gavin ‘The Ripper’ Jones.
Word obviously travels fast when you’re an up-and-coming fighter, for them to know ‘Adrenalize’ is what he likes to walk out to. The proceeds tonight are supposed to be donated to a charity called VETSports to help our veterans. Gavin’s father is retired Army, so, of course, my Sugar was all over the chance to help our disabled vets.
Since they’re avid UFC fans, the venue decided to capitalize on the whole idea of the band playing by inviting Godskank to perform. Then the MGM went a step further, inviting Falling Down to perform for Gav’s opponent, Johnny ‘The Bone Crusher’ Rodriguez.
He’s a total jerk off, and I know I’m supposed to be calm to keep Gavin grounded, but I can’t wait to see him take Bone Crusher down a notch—or seven. He damn sure doesn’t deserve a band like Falling Down to be playing for him.
This place is a madhouse with all the music and adrenaline pumping through the crowd. I don’t know how the guys do it, fighting under so much pressure like this. These people could easily become an angry mob if enough of them got pissed over their guy not winning. Thankfully, I won’t be left alone sitting ringside.
The last time we were here was for Gavin’s spar partner/best friend Jace’s fight. I can’t believe that was two years ago; it doesn’t seem that long ago. Jace had to fight eight fights or some crazy number within a few months’ time before they’d let him challenge for the middleweight belt. The UFC loves their events and drama; that’s for sure.
I remember it was one hell of a fight too; Gavin and I were here cheering him on. Jace ended up beating his opponent and has held onto that championship belt with a death grip. No one’s come close to taking it away, and the UFC is getting restless because of it. Fans don’t like champs to remain idol in a spot for too long; they like to see them struggle to keep a hold on it.
The whole thing is doing nothing but stressing out Chyna, his wife, and my best friend, to the point of putting her in the hospital. Jace hasn’t lost yet, but I’m guessing he will—and soon—if Chyna doesn’t get a better grip on her emotions.
The famous chant begins, drawing me from my concerns of Chyna’s health. You’d think we were the next band playing with the way Gav’s fans act. I swear his are the loudest I’ve ever heard before and we’ve been to a lot of fights.
People love a fighter coming for his first belt, especially one who’s brother is a college football star and father is retired military. The press can’t seem to get enough of him and his family at this point.
Thank God they’ve refrained from broadcasting about his mother’s suicide. That’d bring out an entirely different type of animal from Gav.
The foot stomping begins, and Sin’s face lights up. The features on the trainer’s face relax as a cocky smirk overtakes his mouth.
“Sounds like showtime,” Sin announces in his gravelly voice, nodding toward the door.
“I’m ready,” Gavin replies and Sin’s smile grows.
“Fuck yeah, you are! Do the work, take the belt.”
Jace stands, agreeing with them both. “This is your fight, man. Make him come to you.”
“I’ll stick to the plan. I need a minute with my Boo.”
Sin starts to agree, but stops short, his eyebrow lifting as he hesitates. “We have to get out there.”
“And I will; but first, my Boo.”
With a sigh, Sin opens the heavy metal door, holding it so Jace can follow him out into the hallway. The door slams closed and the room’s immediately blanketed in silence. Not an uncomfortable type, just both of us choked up with nerves and adrenaline.
His feet shuffle toward me until he’s directly in front of me, his big brown puppy dog eyes staring down into mine.
“I won’t do this if you don’t want me to; just say the word.” It comes out nearly a whisper—a gruff one—but my favorite way to hear him speak to me. It sounds like what you’d expect sinful sex to sound like if it had a voice.
“Oh no, Sugar. You’ve earned this. All the training, everything we’ve been through because of this sport and other things.” I leave out the mention of his brother’s unhealthy intentions toward me for so long. God that was an awful fight in itself, but it doesn’t matter now. We’re past it; we’re stronger and love each other with everything we are.
His shoulders visibly relax, showing me that he’s more stressed out then he’s been letting on lately.
“Gav, you hear them?” I point up where above us are rows upon rows of eager fans, waiting for him to come out and rip someone up.
He nods, licking his lips. “But they don’t come home to me every night; you do. Your opinion matters above anyone else’s, you know that.”
“Yep, you’re right, I do. And me, them.” I point again. “Sin, Jace—all of us—we believe in you. We’re here to watch you finally get what you’ve trained so hard for.”
There’s pounding on the thick door. I’m assuming it’s Sin, telling us to hurry up with o
ur heart-to-heart. He’s probably freaking out, thinking we’re having a quickie or something. He can relax; I know the rules about fighters not being able to have any sexual stimulation before events. I wouldn’t break them now anyhow; I want my man to have as much testosterone as possible. I want him to win and have any advantage he can over his opponent. I’ve seen Bone Crusher fight, a million times it seems, and he’s no joke. He may be a dickhead, but he’s one mean motherfucker.
“Coming!” Gavin shouts so the door pounding stops.
“I love you.” Perching up on my tiptoes, my lips barely meet his chin. All five foot nothing of me could probably stand on a couch and barely come eye to eye with him.
His gaze changes from milk chocolate to a swirling dark chocolate and next thing I know, his large palms are under my thighs, lifting me up. My legs wrap around his waist automatically, having practiced over the years to know where he likes them.
His nose brushes mine before his lips meet my own, his tongue plunging into my mouth. I can feel his hardness against the inside of my thigh. He’s damn sure been missing me if it’s any indication of what else he’s been thinking.
His kiss is rough, full of pent-up energy and aggression. If we were to fuck right now, I know it would hurt in the most delicious way possible. It’d be one of the times where you wake up the next morning and find your thighs are peppered with bruises. I like to think of them as little reminders to what was damn sure a good night.
His mouth wrenches away, both of us left panting in its wake.
“Fuck! I have to stop, Aria, or so help me, we won’t make it to the fight. It’s been too long; once won’t be enough to satiate me.”
Promises, promises. I love the way this man thinks.
“Save that thought. Let’s get this over with so we can hurry up and get to the good part.”
His answering smirk is all I need to know that he’s right there with me in agreement with those thoughts. Sliding down his cut muscles, my feet hit the ground. He patiently waits, watching me with amusement as I shimmy around in my dress, making myself appear appropriate again. Then he tucks my petite hand into his bigger paw-like grip, always holding onto me somewhere and alert, ready to protect me if needed.
Just before we head through the door into the madness, he finally replies to my earlier proclamation, “Love you, too, Boo.”
The hallway’s even louder than the waiting rooms. I know it’s barely a snippet to the real craziness we’re about to face.
Jace lifts his hood from his hoodie, placing it over his head and starts his breathing exercises. No one would ever guess this big man—who’s a major badass—would suffer from anxiety. For him, it’s a silent disease he struggles with. He doesn’t let anyone know or help him with it; he endures it alone.
At least he did until we got serious and I made it my mission to try to find ways to help him. Hence the breathing exercises. I started reading up on anxiety disorders and things people do to help them get through stressful situations and came upon some different options.
Through fighting with Gav about trying them out, and then trial and error once he finally relented, we’ve learned that breathing certain patterns helps him stay focused the most. And sex. It calms him completely down, but that’s not on the table right before fights.
We’re getting closer to the stadium entrance, and now the chant from the crowd reminds me of an enormous football game.
Rip! Stomp. His! Stomp. Head! Stomp. Off! Stomp, stomp. Ripper, Riiiipppeerrrrr!
It’s enough to get my own heart going, knowing what’s about to happen. Goosebumps spread over my skin like a wildfire making me shudder. Thankfully Gav doesn’t notice. He’s ‘in his zone’ right now. I’m never this nervous, but this is huge tonight. He could be the next heavyweight champion of the world by the time the hour’s over.
Not could be. He will be. I have to stay confident and positive. This is Gav we’re talking about—he’s a fucking badass, this is his sport.
Just before we make it to the arena entrance, the hard chords of Adrenalize begin to thrum through the massive space. In This Moment is pumped up as well, doing their best to ‘adrenalize’ my man.
This song, I swear. It’s become everything to us. His first UFC fight he played it to fuck with his opponent. No one has a female lead singer as their walk-out song. It’s always rock with guys belting out lyrics or rap. Not my Gav; he said let’s be different and went with a chick singing metal.
He caught a lot of flak from the other fighters when they found out. They’d taunt him about it over and over, and then they’d fight and get their asses handed to them. It was great; karma at its finest.
In a way, it fit perfectly into our lives as well. The love and pain—the addiction to each other—we went through it, and we came out even more in love. I learned through our trials and tribulations that I’m a fighter as well. Gav is mine, and no one will ever make him or me, forget the love that we have for one another.
The difference in noise volume from the hall into the arena is shocking. Everyone’s on their feet, either screaming cheers or obscenities toward us. I thought I was prepared for this. I’m not.
This is nowhere near the crowd size there was for Jace’s fight. Did they add more seats? This place seems even more massive than what I remember and how can it be so full of people and still be safe? A mob of people is an understatement; I think most of those standing don’t even have seats. That has to be against the law. This could turn out so bad. Gavin thinks he’s invincible, and he usually is; but if this number of people decided to rush the walkway or something, they could easily kill him.
My thoughts are brushed aside as Gav practically drags me down the pathway toward the cage. Luckily it appears that his fans are over here, so nothing’s being thrown at us. I’ve had the popcorn and nachos dumped on me from angry fans before; it’s no fun.
Jace walks behind me as bright gold and white fireworks shower beside us, and the overhead colored lights go crazy, shining all over the room into the crowd. In This Moment’s tiny blonde singer’s clad in a skin-tight leather cat suit with matching black leather bunny ears screaming about ‘being addicted to this and feeling like a god.’
Thanks to her outfit, I no longer feel weird in mine. MGM had their personal shopper pick out my dress, claiming we were going to be on TV, so I had to wear something to best encase the event.
It turns out that their idea of perfect is a mini dress full of fake diamonds. Can’t say I’m that surprised, they did go completely overboard with the concerts and fireworks. Walking out with Gav, it looks like I’m one big sparkle in the lights next to him. I was worried it would draw too much attention, but I think the leather bunny ears and cat suit have me beat.
Thank God.
We stop near the cage, Gavin lifting his arms up and letting go of my sweaty grip. The moment our contact breaks, Jace’s heavy hand comes down protectively, holding my shoulder and keeping me grounded. Sin peels the hoodie and sweat pants off my man, revealing a wall of muscles. Even with the noise from the band blaring throughout, you can hear every female in the building swoon over him.
Bitches.
Gavin’s built like no other. Normally you see the heavyweight fighters, and they’re full of fat with some height. The only reason Gav even fits in the heavyweight bracket is because the weight of muscle compared to fat. He’s so chiseled; he comes off as lean. You’d never guess that he’s two hundred and sixty-five- pounds. He’s also six foot four, so he wears his weight like the average gym rat would wear one hundred eighty pounds.
It’s not all puff and fluff either; he’s strong. He’s toned by strength and agility training mixed with Muay Thai, Brazilian Jui Jitsu, and wrestling. He may not be as fast as a little featherweight fighter, but if my man lands a hit on you, you’re going to hurt. Or get knocked out—depends on the location.
His mouth guard is already in so he gives me a brief hug. I know he’d kiss me if he could, but it’s better this way anyh
ow. He needs to stay focused on the fight, not sex. He does the man hug thing with Jace and Sin; then I’m being steered toward the ringside seats by Jace.
I should have told him I loved him again.
They pat down Gavin, inspecting him for hidden wounds and weapons. It only takes a second, and then he’s bouncing around the cage before we can make it to our seats.
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‘
Chapter 2
My butt hits the chair as the band stops playing and the announcer starts listing Gavin’s weight and height. Without the music playing, it’s the perfect opening for Jace to start talking my ears off.
“Wish Chyna doll could be here with us,” he grumbles sullenly.
“I know, it sucks, but she needs to listen to the doctor and not travel.”
“First kid, and she’s laid up on bed rest. I felt so damn guilty for coming, but she insisted on it, being Gavin and all.”
“I’m sure she’s okay; her gram will love having a reason to stay and fuss over her.”
“That lady’s a trip.” He chuckles making me laugh as well. Chyna’s grandmother is full of shenanigans, always off getting into something. “I’m going to be real, though; I’m worried that with the complications she’s having now, that she won’t want more.”
“More kids?”
“Yeah, I want at least five.”
His response brings on another wave of giggles from me because there’s no way in hell that Chyna will pop out five kids. My bet’s on two.
Music floods the stadium again as Sick Yuppies begin to strum a few chords of Bone Crusher’s fight song. Jace doesn’t let it deter him though and continues telling me about a few outrageous things he’s ordered for his soon-to-be baby boy.