No Holds (The Fighter Series Book 4)

by TC Matson

  “Well, Jay seems pretty fascinated with you.” I’m desperate to change the subject, which is turning my stomach into knots.

  He leans back in the booth and rests his large arm on the back of the black leather. His lips are stretched tightly, and his eyes zero in on me. “Tell me about yourself, Whitney.”

  My name rolls off his tongue in such a deep, lusty tone, it tickles my spine.

  I swallow the titillating feeling and shift in my seat. “I don’t have a fancy story like yours. Mine will bore you.”

  “You’re an event planner?” he asks sounding like he’s truly interested.

  I nod. “I am. I started my own business with the help of my parents a few years back.”

  I watch in full amusement as his tongue drags along his bottom lip. Heat explodes in my core running its course to my cheeks. I don’t blush often. I’ve always been able to keep myself in check. Dad says I get it from Mom, and she says I get it from Dad. Either way, the ability to suppress it explodes when I’m around him, and I have no control over it.

  “Here you go.” Jay sets our food down. “The Whitney special. Heart attack in a wrap.” He winks at Ryker and then strolls off. Thankfully without any salaciousness this time.

  I can’t control the giggle that bubbles out of me as Ryker eyes the sandwich with surprise. “It’s been my favorite since I first came here. They took it off the menu, but they’ll make it for me. It’s chicken breast, ham, salami, roast beef, pepperoni, a massive mixture of cheeses and veggies, Italian seasoning and a dash of ranch.”

  “Jesus…” He exhales on a chuckle.

  “It’ll be worth it. I promise.”

  His electric blues smile as mischief swirls in them. “I’m not taking a bite until you promise you’ll work out with me this afternoon.”

  The request sets off a cherry bomb of nerves inside of me. “I’m not attempting your insane workout, and mine won’t appeal to you because it’s not as advanced as yours.”

  “I’ll need to work this off and your friend stated you always do. Therefore, whatever workout you’re doing this afternoon, count me in.”

  I shove my tongue in my cheek. “What if I do yoga?”

  He blows a laugh through his nose. “I can always give it a try.”

  The thought of his big frame in a downward dog causes me to titter. “I’d like to see you position yourself in some of those poses.”

  I should have thought about that before I said it because something in his eyes shifts with a glimmer of delight. “Really now? And exactly what kind of positions did you have in mind?” His voice lowers so deep the vibrations can be felt in my chest.

  A piercing gaze pins me with amusement and my lungs aren’t taking in air as they should. “Something tells me you don’t do yoga,” he adds.

  I clear my throat. “Your something would be correct. But you’d still get bored. Running isn’t as complex as yours. See. Doesn’t sound so fun now, does it?”

  Without putting an ounce of thought into it, he asks, “What time do I need to be there?”

  I bite my lip to suppress my grin. “Why do you think you’re invited?”

  His left eyebrow twitches but never fully raises. “Your eyes lit up. Now, what time do I need to be there?” His tone is so low and sexy it causes the tickle in my back again.

  Dammit, he’s good. “Eight.”

  His face twists into a frown. “You run at night? In the dark?”

  “Less people. Plus, sometimes it’s the only time I have,” I dismiss his concern.

  He looks entirely displeased but picks up the sandwich. I watch him eat the whole damn wrap, bite for bite, savoring each one he takes. I’m in awe. I have never been able to finish it. It’s a two meal deal for me—lunch and dinner.

  There isn’t much conversation after he declared he was going to run with me. I thank him several more times for taking care of the creep and offer to pay the losses of having him removed. That granted me a stern look, which quickly turned into a laugh.

  I like his laugh. It’s deep and booming and the way it lights up his face, relaxing the seriousness on it, mollifies me.

  I give him my phone number and hesitantly explain where I live. Truth be told, with anyone else, I would have never done so and would have resolved on a meeting spot. But him…he emits safety. I can’t explain it. He feels trustworthy and innocuous.

  I settle our check, but not without a small power struggle. I had to remind him several times it was me who asked him, and it was my idea since I felt he needed a better thank you. He’s a stubborn, hardheaded man.

  He walks with me back to my car and opens the door. “I’ll see you later.”

  There’s something in his tone that catches my attention, and I pause for a brief moment looking up to him. My pulse kicks up as a pull, a desire to kiss him, injects itself into my blood. He shifts slightly and I take full advantage of it, dropping quickly into my car before my fantasies of his lips on mine happen out in broad daylight.

  Chapter 5

  I deliberately came home early to get ready so I can be outside before he arrives. I don’t know. There’s something about him being in my house that feels weird. Like if he stepped into my territory, all bets are off and my hands would be on him. I’m desperately trying to keep my wits about me—my professionalism, my respect. But he oozes a hot, sexual, “I need to touch and feel him all over me” vibe.

  He knows he’s a level of good looking that should be illegal and he’s an expert in knowing how to work someone up. He’s savvy with his words, and with his body language he shows just how skilled he is. I can give you every excuse for why I shouldn’t be doing this, but truthfully, I’m buzzing with excitement.

  I’m stretching my legs when he pulls up in a lifted, black Tundra with large tires five minutes early. My heart bangs against my ribs as he strolls around his truck looking handsome as ever in gray gym shorts and a black RingSide shirt strangling the muscles under it.

  The attire shows off everything but leaves enough to imagine what else is under it. His chest and arms are brawny tapering down to slender hips and well-built legs. He has never skipped out on leg day.

  He rakes his gaze down my body. “You’re distracting.”

  I scrunch my face in confusion.

  He chuckles and gestures toward me. “You being dressed like that. It’s very distracting for a man.”

  I point to my shirt. “I thought the shirt was fitting. I wore it just for you.”

  God, that was way too flirty.

  Indeed, I did wear it just for him. While I strummed through my workout clothes, I landed on the loose black tank top with the words: I don’t know what I’m training for, but I hope it never happens in white bolded lettering.

  “I like it,” he says, but there’s a hidden innuendo behind his words.

  My stomach tumbles and I slap his arm, starting past him. “Try to keep up.”

  We fall into a steady jog—him beside me. I’ve run for years and only have had Lily or Candice, my best friend, join me a handful of times. I’ve never experienced the thrill of having a man running beside me, ever. And never one so attractive and immense.

  Other people calculate their steps, measure their heart rate, tally their miles, and other snazzy jazz, but I don’t. I run for the escape. To clear my mind. To feel free of the worries and struggles of the day. Normally, I listen to music, getting lost within the tempo and forgetting my cares as I drop all things work from my thoughts, but just hearing him breathing beside me is the best motivation.

  As my feet pound the hard concrete, I feel the calmest. I’m not out to defeat a time. I’m out here to win back my mind while pushing my confidence level back to the top and releasing my tension.

  The sidewalks echo our steps as we pass under the street lights illuminating the dark concrete. We pass by quiet homes where families are settling down for the night and stores with employees are closing for the evening. The air rectifies the busyness of the day, freshening up and
becoming more crisp. I covet the cooler and relaxed part of the day.

  “You’re bored, aren’t you?” I ask. It’s the first time we’ve spoken since leaving my house.

  He shakes his head, glancing out of the corner of his eye. “No. Perfectly content.”

  “I’m assuming training for your fighting stuff is more complex and entertaining than this.”

  “Cardio is always good. Helps me keep up my stamina,” he says with a sexy smirk.

  “Do you train a lot?” I ask.

  He nods. “It never stops. Sometimes it slows, but I never completely stop. My trainers keep me on my toes. They switch up my regimen to keep my body and mind in a constant guessing game so I can reap the maximum benefits. Variety means I’m not overusing just one particular muscle or set of muscles. Sometimes we work on only strengthening and techniques. Other times I’m sparring and doing pad work. So technically, I’m training now.”

  I look to him. “Sparring? That’s practice fighting, right?” I basically announce the lack of knowledge I have with his sport. But the way he just lit up causes my chest to feel fuzzy.

  He beams. “It is. It enhances skills, helps with timing and flow, and is downright fun if given the right partner. We’re not in there to beat each other into submission although there are a few I’d like to.”

  I giggle. “I can’t believe you worked out this morning and are running now. I couldn’t do it. I would quit before I started,” I admit.

  “When you first started jogging, were you able to run a lot?”

  “No,” I shake my head. “I started off walking a little and running a little.”

  “And now you run the whole time. You’ve trained your body to do it. I’ve gotten used to pushing myself hard. Do you ever do anything other than run?”

  “No. I prefer just to run.”

  He glances to me. “Maybe I’ll show you a thing or two. I did your workout. You should try mine.”

  I scrunch my nose.

  “You wouldn’t try it?” The question is laced with genuine curiosity.

  “I don’t have the love for it as you do,” I titter. “No offense, but I’ve never understood the fun in beating the shit out of someone for bragging rights. I think it’s a bit brutal.” I look to him, scared he’s seeing me as weak.

  Tenderness contorts his lips into a grin. “It’s easy to think it’s brutal if you don’t know much about the sport. I appreciate the tactics, the extensive training, and the discipline. It’s definitely not for the lighthearted. You see violence being inflicted where I see consensual violence for sport. It’s primal. The adrenaline is addicting just as is the excitement. And the bragging rights do impressive things for your ego. Who doesn’t love that?”

  I want to tell him I don’t, but instead, I drop it as we trek up the small hill leading to my favorite stretch of the run, the very reason I created this route. Several street lights line the path, peeking through the branches littered with pink and white blossoms. Even at this time of day, their beauty is prominent. It’s like running through a fairytale, and what woman doesn’t enjoy that? The tranquility of the path is surreal.

  I close my eyes and inhale the floral scent mixed with the freshness of the air.

  Ryker stops and grabs my arm, ceasing my assault on the payment. “Enjoy it.”

  I shift my head to look up at him. “Do what?” I’m breathless.

  He looks around. “Stop and enjoy it.”

  I take in the beauty of what Mother Nature has offered me. “I think this is the most beautiful place in the city.”

  He doesn’t say anything as he watches me admire the area. I can feel his stare on me. The pull from under my skin kicks up my nerves and I shrug my shoulders. “You probably enjoy the smell of a punching bag better than this.”

  “I admit I love the leather, but it’s not nearly as astonishing as the look on your face right now.” His voice is thick.

  My heart drops, pulling my mouth with it. “I…” have no idea what to say.

  He taps the bottom of my chin, grinning. “Take the compliment.”

  The energy between us is suffocating and causes a crackle to spread over my skin like static electricity. It makes me nervous. I take back off running.

  He strides in beside me. “You’re pretty shy under a blanket of confidence.”

  I focus on the crest of the hill before us. “You think you have me figured out with what little time we’ve been around each other?” It comes out bitchier and less teasingly than I intended.

  “Kind of my job to pay attention.” He pauses. “Actually, it’s incredibly imperative. If I lose focus it could cost me a lot.”

  He twists and begins jogging backward with his gaze fixed on me.

  “You’re going to fall and bust your ass,” I jest extremely flirtatiously. This too, more than I intended.

  “Do you realize you’re downright exquisite?” He grants me a frisky grin.

  I roll my eyes, mirthfully. “What are you doing?”

  “Your eyes are stunning, too.”

  Pursing my lips, I ask, “Have you seen yours?”

  Satisfaction explodes over his face and he rotates his large body back around right. “My brothers have the same eyes.”

  I shake my head in dispute. “Yours are more…” I trail off unsure of what the right word would be.

  “Sexier?” He laughs.

  “Captivating,” I admit a bit bashful.

  Quietness cascades around us. It would be easy to think I said something unforgiving, but the big goofy grin on his face clearly informs me he got the answer he wanted.

  We continue to run back to the house in silence. It’s not uncomfortable or awkward, but it’s playing tricks on my mind. From the small peeks I’ve taken, I’ve not seen him even look my direction.

  I’m starting to drown in guilt of the possibility I said something I shouldn’t have as my house comes into view. We’re directly in front of it when he finally punctures a hole in the silence.

  “Am I the reason why your eyes light up? They seem to glimmer when you see me.”

  His tone implies he already knows the answer. Hesitation consumes me and I clear my throat without looking at him.

  In a swift movement, he hooks his arm around my waist and tugs me closer to his body. I’m already breathless from running, but he just stole the rest of the air from my lungs. I grip his biceps to prevent myself from completely falling against him.

  “Your innocence entices me,” he rasps.

  I open my mouth to say something, but nothing is there. I feel like liquid in his hands. Hot and sticky and completely at his mercy.

  He rakes his eyes over my face and licks his lips as his stare rests on my mouth. And then with intense hunger, they land back on mine. “Around me you say exactly what you feel, exactly the way you intend it. I don’t like guessing games, especially when the answers are staring at me.”

  My breath hitches as he runs his nose along mine. His lips are parted. My heart is thrashing around my chest, trying to find a way to bust out. The corners of his mouth twitch and my traitorous body softens into him. The electricity is dancing all over my skin, inside and outside. I’m petrified, not in a scared way, but in a selfish craving I’m dying to give in to.

  “No holds, Whitney. No hesitations. No second guesses,” his whisper is throaty and my body begins to desire much more from his closeness. “Admit it. Admit I’m the reason.”

  “Yes,” I exhale.

  He dips his head, soft lips brushing against mine, heavy breathing pounding the flesh of my skin. His lips barely graze mine and it sets my body ablaze, searing a trail straight down my spine and in between my legs. He drags his thumb over my cheek and I close my eyes leaning into it. It’s too much but I want more. A soft moan escapes me.

  A deep hum resonates from his chest, vibrating into mine. I open my eyes to a set heavy with greed, but then he releases me, leaving me to stand on my own…without ever having the full force of his lips on mine.<
br />
  “Can I take you out this weekend?”

  I straighten myself, my cheeks on fire from the embarrassment of him now knowing the effects he has on me. “I…” I pause trying to gather my wild racing thoughts. “I’m not sure I can afford to fall for your smooth words and charm.”

  His eyes seem to laugh at me, like he knows the words I just said don’t match what my body is feeling. Truthfully, I’m even surprised I said that in the fogginess. The corner of his lips twitch but they don’t pull up into his grin I enjoy so much.

  Feeling a bit more courageous as the sex-induced fog lifts from my thoughts, I rock back on my heel. “I’m wary, dubious, and unsure what I have to be interested in.”

  “Ouch,” he says with a laugh.

  Okay. Now I feel like a bitch and I look down at my feet. Say exactly what you mean. “You make me feel incredibly off balance. I find it difficult to think I’m anything like what you’re familiar with. You’re definitely not what I’m used to.” I bring my view back to his eyes, which are still full of amusement. “I’m worried all this is going to be a setup.”

  “You don’t seem like the insecure type,” he states nonchalantly.

  “I’m not. I’m careful.”

  His face breaks into a smile releasing what his eyes were holding. “Then I’ll pick you up at seven on Saturday.”

  Instinctively, I begin chewing my lip. He reaches out and rubs the side of my arm. “Relax, Whitney. If all I wanted to do was fuck you, it would’ve already happened. I’m following your lead. Using your pace. Because you are far from what I’m used to and I’m reveling it.”

  I narrow my eyes, taking in his satisfaction. How would he know it would’ve already happened? Who am I kidding? I can claim all day long I’m not that girl, which I’m not, but around him, it’s hard not to give into the sexual intensity blazing between us.

  He winks at me and leaves me standing there to watch him disappear to his truck. I watch as his taillights disappear around the corner before looking back at the house.

  What the hell just happened?