Marc fought, not only in the ring, but in life. He had to fight to get by, to claw his way out of poverty and danger, to make a name for himself in a world that wanted to keep him down. He was covered in invisible battle scars from years of being cut down and tossed aside for the shiny, palatable Trevor Rockfords of the world. I understood that. I, too, had to struggle just to be accepted and respected in my field. I looked like a soft little girl who would wilt at the first sign of pain or struggle. People constantly questioned my age, my legitimacy, my experience. But they didn’t know how hard I worked, how much I’d already sacrificed in order to become something more important than a flashy Olympic runner: a parent to my sister.
As I glanced down at her, I was filled with pride and love. She had masterminded this whole thing herself, for the most part. She wanted me to be happy, even though she was still wary of Marc and his reputation, understandably. Alice was willing to go the distance to give me a shot at my own happiness.
Just then, the crowd went hushed as Rockford pulled back to strike Marc, who was crouching in front of him. My heart nearly stopped for a moment, thinking that this could be the end of it. Maybe Marc would be defeated, after all. I gasped, covering my mouth as Rockford swung his fist forward.
Barely in the nick of time, Marc managed to roll out of the way as Rockford’s fist collided with the ground, hard. Then Marc used that momentary mistake to tackle him from the side, twisting Rockford’s own weight against him as he slammed the ivy leaguer down. Rockford, clearly dazed but fueled by rage, landed a firm punch to Marc’s left shoulder and I stood up from my seat, reaching out in futile concern. I could see just the slightest, subtlest flash of agony on Marc’s face before he clenched his jaw and swung for Rockford’s face, his fist connecting with the blond man’s cheek. The two of them were tangled on the ground now, each man struggling to gain the upper hand. Marc suddenly stood up and Rockford followed suit, but he was so disoriented that he faced the wrong way for just a second. And as he spun back around, his jaw met with the strongest left hook Marc could muster. The crowd roared even louder than before as Rockford stumbled, staggering on his feet, then dropped flat down to the floor. He was out.
Marc stood over him, panting, waiting for Rockford to get up. But he didn’t. The guy was knocked out cold! Marc had won the match! I cheered so loud that my throat ached, tears forming in my eyes. Alice jumped up and down, screaming and clapping. Out of the corner of my eye I caught Trina and Dequan kissing passionately, their arms raised in two interlocked victorious fists.
When Marc was declared the winner, he turned in a slow circle, beaming at the crowd. And when his eyes fell on me, I felt a warm, indescribable electricity pump through my veins. He was the winner! And I knew in that moment, without either of us having to say a word, that he was mine. Marc ran down the steps leading down from the ring, bolting straight to me to scoop me up in his arms and spin me around, my legs instantly wrapping around him. I couldn’t believe this was happening! I had been daydreaming about this feeling, about having his hard, powerful body in my arms once again, and now here we were, together again.
But then, a familiar voice punctured the din, ripping into our beautiful moment.
“How dare you!” shouted an angry woman.
Selena! I hadn’t even realized she was in the crowd, but now she was wading through the throngs of cheering people, a look of utter hatred on her gorgeous face. Marc set me down, but kept a protective arm around my shoulders, holding me close to him as she approached. I knew I shouldn’t have been afraid, especially since I had literally just watched Marc destroy his heavily-muscled opponent, but there was just something so terrifying about Selena.
Trina shielded Alice, backing her away while Dequan stepped in front of them and crossed his arms over his broad chest. He gave Selena a warning glare, shaking his head.
“Don’t even think about it,” he ordered in his deep, velvety voice. He was a gentle giant, a total teddy bear to those who knew him best, but to the uninitiated Dequan looked like the kind of guy who could rip you to shreds in a second. Selena stood in front of him, glaring up into his face with her full lips pursed.
“Move out of the way or I will call for security,” she hissed.
“We’re not doing this here,” Marc called out to her angrily. I wondered what was about to happen. He’d already survived one fight today-- he certainly didn’t need to tangle with Selena, too! So he kissed me, hard, in full view of the whole crowd, who all cheered and whooped in delight. Selena looked absolutely murderous as Marc rushed me out of the arena, down a back hallway. Once we were alone, away from the mighty din of the match, he cupped my face in both hands and kissed me again, deeply. I folded into his touch, knowing for certain that this was exactly where I wanted to be. No matter what happened, we were meant to be together, and I would find a way to make it work.
The doors slammed open as Selena, her entourage, and some guy with spiked hair and silver-lined sunglasses came thundering down the hall toward us. Marc instinctively shielded me with his arms and puffed out his chest to meet them. Selena stormed right up to him and spat at his feet.
“What the hell are you thinking?” she yelled. “Remember all that we’ve worked for together? All our plans to make it big?”
“You never signed the contract,” weaseled in the guy wearing shades (indoors, I might add). He waved a stack of papers angrily, stepping up beside Selena.
Marc rolled his eyes and laughed. “I don’t want that sponsorship, Nick. But hey, you could go offer it to Trevor Rockford if you want. Or you can just shove it up your ass. Either way, I’m not interested.”
Selena slapped him hard across the face, shaking with fury. “What about me, Marc? What about my career? If you wanna throw your own hopes and dreams down the toilet, that’s fine. But you can’t do this to me! After all those boring matches I went to, sitting there with those annoying, screaming crowds!”
“What do you mean? This has nothing to do with you,” Marc said, clearly confused.
Selena tilted her head back and laughed bitterly. “Yeah, sure. Like you don’t know. Nick offered to further my career with a big endorsement if I convinced you to sign for that sponsorship, Marc! I was finally gonna be a star like I’m supposed to be, and you were gonna be filthy fucking rich! But no, you just had to go and get yourself involved with some nobody!”
“You never cared about him at all, did you?” I gasped, unable to stop myself. Selena stared at me with fiery eyes.
“Oh, like that’s some big surprise. It’s not like you actually care about him either. You barely know him! And I’m sure you’re just fucking him for the money, just like me! At least we were honest with each other about what our relationship was! What are you possibly gonna get out of this, besides a one-way ticket back to that trashy little shit hole you grew up in!” she shouted. Marc gritted his teeth, clearly struggling to hold back his anger.
“You know what, Selena? You’re right. You and I were never real. It was all about the business, for you and for me. And I don’t blame you for using me like you did. You’re ambitious and I can’t hold that against you. But don’t you dare insinuate that what I have with Gemma is anything like that. I know you’re not ready to find what we have, but I hope for your sake, someday you do,” he told her. I was shocked at how patient and genuine he sounded, and astonished even further by the fact that he was talking about me.
Selena went pale as her anger totally transformed her features. It was like she could handle his rage, his betrayal, but she absolutely could not deal with his pity. She was a proud woman who knew what she wanted, and I could tell she wasn’t used to people pitying her. So she responded the only way she knew how-- with cruelty.
“Whatever,” she hissed. “I’ve been cheating on you with Nick since day one, anyway. At least he understands how important it is for me to be a star!”
Even with his shades on, I could see the terror in Nick’s face at this revelation. He gulped, backing
away as though he fully expected Marc to fly into a murderous rage. But Marc simply shrugged.
“Well, you two are good for each other, then. Invite me to the wedding,” he remarked simply, turning away and taking me by the hand as we walked off down the hallway.
“You’re gonna regret this! You’ll never do better than me!” Selena screamed after us.
But Marc and I looked at each other and he was grinning the kind of carefree smile I had never expected to see on such a serious face. He looked like he’d won the lottery. I mean, he had just won an immensely important match, but I think that most of all he was just glad to have won… me.
As we stepped out into the evening air, I caught sight of Alice waving at me from several yards away. She was getting into the SUV with Trina and Dequan, who were waving, too. It was understood that I would go with Marc. He was the one who needed me most right now.
Marc wrapped me in his arms and held me tight, his hard body heaving with emotion as we stood there locked together. I’d dreamed of this moment every night for weeks, and now it was here. Despite everything, we had wound up in each other’s arms again. I knew it would be a struggle to make things work, to compromise our wildly different lifestyles, but in my heart I was sure that it would be more than worth it.
Finally, both of us had to give love a fighting chance.
CHAPTER 21 - MARC
“Are you kidding? Jameson has been the leading middle-weight for years, there’s no way an up-and-comer like O’Brian could take him out this late in the season,” I said between bites of toast, glaring at Alice from across the table.
“I mean, sure, Jameson’s got the experience, but he’s getting old!”
I gave her an incredulous look, and I opened my mouth to argue more as I stuck my fork into a piece of egg when Gemma coming downstairs grabbed my attention.
“Knock it off, you two,” she chided, stepping into the kitchen with a small magazine in her hand and giving Alice a light bop on the head with it. I shot her a “take that” look across the table, but Gemma gave me a smack too when she reached me. I gave a huff, but she leaned down and planted a kiss on my mouth that quieted me.
Alice rolled her eyes across the table as she finished her breakfast. “Alright, Gemma, I’ll leave you to set Marc straight when it comes to the boxing championships. I don’t know what fights he’s been watching, but he must be stuck in the 80s. I’ve got to get to practice, my instructor wanted to meet me at the rink early today.”
“Alright, sis, take it easy, alright? We’re still going to try dinner at that Spanish place tonight. Save room for tapas!”
Alice grinned as she got her bag and headed for the door. “Um, I literally always have room for tapas? Later!”
As the door shut, Gemma and I were left alone in the kitchen, and her lidded eyes fell on me as she smiled, her hands slipping around my shoulders.
It hadn’t taken long since the fight for me and Gemma to move in together. But that bachelor pad I’d been used to near the Strip wasn’t the kind of place I wanted to bring her and Alice to live. Fortunately for us, the prize money from that fight and the next half-dozen I won was more than enough for me to sell the place and buy a new one on the outskirts of the city.
Now we were in a villa that had a gorgeous view of the desert, and it had all the Spanish-style ranch charm that I missed about my old hometown. It was just like everything I’d envisioned when I was growing up, long before all this money was even in my wildest dreams.
But not even that could have come close to rivaling the love I had with Gemma.
“Hey,” she said softly as she brought her face down to rest on my shoulder, leaning into my cheek.
“Hey,” I said back, a grin playing across my face.
“I never would have thought any of this would come from you walking into my session, you know,” she said, nuzzling me gently, and my hand reached back to stroke her leg as I turned my neck up for her. “Maybe we ought to get your muscles torn more often.”
I chuckled, turning to meet her lips in a kiss, my tongue delving into her. “If we do, it might take a lot more healing to get me back in shape.”
“Let’s see what we can do,” she said in a low tone, and my cock was already stiffening when she started to slip her shirt off.
She was wearing nothing but a shirt and leggings, and as the former was tossed across the room, exposing her breasts, I wasted no time in wrapping my hands around her, bringing my mouth to her nipples and sucking on them ferociously. Her gasps filled the room as I helped her work her leggings off, leaving her totally exposed before me there in the kitchen. I tore my own shirt off, exposing my rippling muscles as I trailed down to her cunt as her hands ran up and down my sides, feeling every muscle, every part of me that gave me strength.
Standing up, I lifted her as if she were made of paper, sitting her on the kitchen table as I buried my face in her lower lips.
“Oh, fuck,” she gasped as my tongue lashed out, drawing across her slit in a long, deep motion. I started working my tongue into her relentlessly, plunging into her depths before running it up to the little hooded nub at the top, each stroke evoking a shiver from her.
I took her in the morning a lot. When we woke up next to each other, looking into her gorgeous, endless eyes drove me absolutely wild. I did it so often she looked forward to waking up all the more, knowing I’d soon be inside her.
And I didn’t want to disappoint her.
I felt her muscles start to tighten as I drove her forward to climax, and even as her hands pressed against me, my machine-like rhythm urged her on mercilessly. Just as I felt honey flooding my face, each tongue stroke drawing out more and more as she neared her climax, I pulled my mouth back, and she gasped desperately.
“Please,” Gemma gasped, “please don’t stop, Marc!”
I pulled my pants down, revealing my long, thick cock, its crown bulging and needy, dark with desire. I spread her legs with my hands, holding her by the ankles before I impaled her with my shaft, driving myself in all the way to the hilt, and immediately, her cunt clenched around me as she cried out in orgasm.
As I started bucking into her, she writhed in my grip. I could hold her up if I wanted to, holding her out as I pistoned in and out of her with unstoppable strength, my every muscle tightening and relaxing with warmth that we could only achieve together.
“God, Gemma,” I breathed as I reveled in the feeling of her all around me, “I never want to let you off me.”
“Fill me up, Marc,” she begged, her hands clenching on my thighs as I grasped a handful of her hair, bending down to suck on the flesh of her neck.
My bucking grew faster and faster, balls slapping against her less as they began to tighten. I felt her tightening and releasing over and over as I climbed that hill to ecstasy. Her head was turning as she squirmed, unable to control her body as she gave herself over to sensation.
I let my head roll back as I felt myself nearing the point of no return. Our bodies longed for this so long that I wasn’t going to deny them a single thing.
My mouth opened, and Gemma braced herself, anticipating that sweet reward just before my seed shot out into her, emptying itself from my powerful, masculine cock and into her depths, filling and warming her insides as she clenched her legs around me, screaming out as I poured all of myself into her. I kept pumping as I released myself, and she pushed her hips up into me as much as her own strong body could muster, claiming as much of the seed as she possibly could.
When it was finally over, I drew my cock out of her slowly, her body going limp on the table as we both breathed heavily, looking into each other’s eyes lovingly. A smile played across Gemma’s lips as she looked at me.
“Better save all that strength, you know,” she breathed. “We’ve still got a day of training ahead of us.”
“This is just the warm-up,” I said, running my hand up and down her side as my cock fell out of her, still stiff. “But I think we’ve done a good job working
this into the workout routine.”
She slapped me on the thigh with a laugh as she sat up. “Okay, we cannot do it on the gym floor again, someone’s going to walk in on us eventually.”
“Don’t know that unless we find out,” I said innocently, but she rolled up the magazine again and I ducked away as we laughed together.
Game On (A Bad Boy Sports Romance) Page 31