The Perfect Comeback

by Kacey Shea

  The guys wipe down equipment and put things away, our nightly routine, but I jog over to Xavier and Ricky.

  “You two, head out. You’re done for the night.”

  “You sure, Coach?”

  “Positive. Which hospital?”

  “Mercy.”

  I nod and turn to Ricky. “Wait for me in the lobby? I just need to lock up, and then I’ll meet you boys there.”

  Xavier shakes his head. “You don’t have to. It’s a lot of sitting around. I’m sure we won’t know much ’til tomorrow.”

  “No, I’ll be there,” I promise because no one was there for me. They’re strong young men, but that doesn’t mean they don’t need a hand. Someone in their corner who’s been there.”

  “Thanks, Coach.”

  As they head out, I finally give in to temptation and look at my phone. Only a few words in her response but it gives me everything I need.

  Mia: I’m home. 416.

  Fucking finally, her apartment number. Taking a deep breath, I type out a reply. I’d love nothing more than to rush over there now. Take her in my arms and channel every bit of my aggression into bringing her pleasure. But that’s not on the table. I need to go see Xavier’s mother first.

  Matt: I’ll be really late.

  Her response is immediate.

  Mia: I’ll be up. Come over.

  As I close up the gym, hopping on my bike to stop by the hospital, I can’t help but give in to a smile. There’s nothing joyful about where I’m headed, but knowing Mia’s waiting for me on the other side . . . It’s everything.

  Hospital life hasn’t changed. There’s a crap ton of waiting around while your loved one suffers. Not that it’s the fault of any of the staff; it’s the nature of illness. Something inside eating away at both the good and bad, and trying to find that precious edge of comfort and strength in the process. I head down to the cafeteria with Ricky, where he flirts with the worker to convince her to make a meal somewhat in line with his eating plan. I order a second for Xavier and pay for them both with what little I have in my pocket. This fight in nine days can’t come soon enough.

  Feeling better once they’re fed and settled for the night with Xavier’s mom, I kiss Chantel on the cheek before I go.

  “Watch out for my boy,” she whispers in my ear.

  Emotion clogs my throat and I nod. “I will, but you keep fighting.”

  “You know I am. I will ’til I can’t.”

  “Thanks for coming by, Coach,” Xavier says.

  I nod because I don’t think I can manage any other reply. Before I leave, I turn to Ricky. “You need a ride?”

  “Nah, I’ll stick around.” I’m sure Mrs. Johnson is as much family as his own mother, the way these two boys have grown up together.

  “Call me if you need anything. Got that?”

  “Yes, Coach.”

  The hospital walls are exactly the same as I remember. They close in on you with each step, and instead of taking the elevator I push open the door to the stairwell, running until I hit the cold air outside. Finally, I can fucking breathe. I should go back to the gym, pull out my makeshift bed in my office, and get a few hours’ sleep before work tomorrow. That would be the smart choice. But Aiden is already scheduled to teach the early classes and there’s nothing I need more right now then to feel alive. Ironically, the only person who does that for me is a woman obsessed with the dead.

  It only takes a few minutes at this late hour to drive to her apartment, longer just to find a parking spot. Once I do, I’m on my way up to her floor, striding with purpose and drive.

  416. I knock at the door and she opens within a few seconds.

  “Matt.”

  I claim her lips with mine before she can argue or say another word. Pushing her back inside her apartment, my hands wrap around her waist and I spin us around, closing the door and pressing her back against it. It’s selfish of me, what I’m doing right now, but I need comfort. Everything with Xavier’s mom resurfaces painful memories I’d rather forget.

  Shaking my head, I back up a step to give her some space. I practically mauled her with my greeting. “Sorry, I—” The words get stuck in my throat.

  Her hands run along the scruff of my beard. “This is not a date,” she declares and before I can process what that means, her lips are on mine and her fingers are running down the front of my shirt. She reaches underneath the fabric and runs her hands back up my abs.

  Our lips battle it out in that familiar push and pull that only Mia seems to bring out in me. My mouth moves with the same forceful movements of my hands. Everywhere, but not nearly close enough.

  Her fingers thread into my hair and she pulls my lips back to hers. We make out like a couple of horny teens until I’m so worked up I can’t imagine waiting another moment before sinking inside her.

  Lifting Mia off the ground, I break our kiss to ask the question, “Where?”

  She hesitates a moment before pointing to the open doorway. “My bedroom.”

  That’s the only invitation I need.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Mia

  He’s different tonight. Still tender and sweet, but rough around the edges. Real. Every thrust, touch, and kiss is filled with so much damn emotion. We aren’t just fucking. What he’s giving is more . . . and for the first time, maybe ever, I indulge in the idea that more is something I’d like.

  We don’t talk about Zig’s. Or why I canceled our training. We don’t do anything other than strip the other of our clothes and strive for pleasure. Somehow in this moment that’s even more significant. I don’t know what it means for us exactly, but I’m too caught up to analyze it.

  We break apart long enough for Matt to peel off his socks, and I crawl onto the bed on my hands and knees. Before I can turn around he’s at my back, one hand working between my legs. His other presses between my shoulder blades and forces my ass in the air. With anyone else it’d be uncomfortable, but with him it only makes me wet.

  He doesn’t waste much time before his mouth replaces his fingers. Licking between my folds, he spreads my cheeks wide. My fingers dig into the bedding and I press my face into my pillow to moan. His lips, beard, and tongue all work in well-practiced unison to stimulate my clit and lap up my juices. It’s so good and yet it’s almost too much. Every time my legs try to squeeze together he presses them apart. His fingers dig into my flesh so hard I’m going to have bruises, but that only heightens the sensation.

  His mouth leaves my center and the bed dips as he joins me. Firm hands grip my hips, holding me in place while his lips move up my spine until his entire body frames mine. He brushes my hair to one side and it exposes my neck and shoulder. God, I love the feel of his lips there. His breath is hot and heavy, shattering goosebumps over my skin.

  “Mia.” My name leaves his lips in a groan that teases the shell of my ear. I push up onto my hands so I can arch back against him. It aligns his cock against where I want him most and without any hesitation he slides inside.

  “Yes, please. More.” My demands are met with every thrust, and he leans back to fuck me at a more vigorous pace. There’s nothing soft or sweet about this. Powerful. Hard. Punishing. This is what he gives, and I continue to beg for more.

  Matt’s hands leave my hips, one to cup my breast and squeeze, while the other weaves into the hair at my nape. “Fuck, Mia. I’m close.” He fists my hair, licks my earlobe, and moans into the crook of my shoulder. His drives come deeper, harder, and his breath hits my ear with each thrust.

  Yanking at my hair, Matt straightens his spine so my hands come off the bed. I’m completely at his mercy in this position, his hands holding me upright on my knees. Usually that’s enough to make me want to run, but with Matt’s strong arms holding me up, his cock thrusting inside, and his mouth at my ear, I give over to the ecstasy of it all. My pleasure surges with each touch, each breath, and I come hard and fast.

  Matt doesn’t relent, even after my body comes down from the aftermath of
my orgasm. He’s too consumed with chasing his own release, and even though I didn’t think it possible, his thrusts come harder and faster. It’s enough to make me all hot and bothered again.

  “Mia . . . I need . . . I want . . .” The words rush from his lips in a mess of nonsense but that only shows me he’s almost there.

  “I know, Matt. I know.”

  “I’m gonna . . .” He tries to pull away but I reach back and grab his legs to keep him close.

  “Come inside me.” The words fly from my mouth, urging on his visceral reaction. I’ve never asked for that before. Never. But as Matt groans into my ear, peppering kisses down my neck as he lowers us both back to the bed I’m filled with more than just his release. Intimacy so powerful wraps around my heart, it’s enough to take away my breath.

  He rolls us both to our sides, his arm wrapped protectively around my waist. Maybe it’s accidental, maybe it’s comfort. But I read his actions as a silent plea that I won’t pull away and run. I loathe snuggling. I don’t generally want to be touched post-sex, but this doesn’t feel suffocating. I remain lying next to Matt, my back to his front, for as long as I can.

  Needing to clean up in the bathroom, I slink from the bed and take care of business. Matt watches me from the bed but he doesn’t speak or make a move. “Be right back,” I whisper, almost too afraid to speak too loudly and break this moment between us. Whatever this is.

  After using the restroom and double checking the lock at my door, I tiptoe back to my room. The lights are on and Matt hasn’t moved from my bed. The only change is he’s pulled on his boxer briefs, and his chest rises and falls with his slumber. I should probably wake him. We should probably talk. At the very least, I should make him leave, but instead I flip off the lights and creep back to my bed.

  Climbing onto the mattress, I drag the bedding off the floor from where it fell and cover us both.

  “Thank you, Mia,” Matt whispers and his hand finds my body under the covers.

  “You’re welcome,” I say but I’m not exactly sure what for. I turn away and prop my head on the pillow, curling my body into a letter S. It’s not a formal invitation to sleep over but I’m glad he doesn’t require one. Instead, his hand runs over my hip, tracing imaginary circles until his breath falls as heavy and slow as mine. I don’t even know who drifts to sleep first, but I do know this feels like the most right thing I’ve done all week.

  Meow.

  Oh, Mick Grimes, please don’t attack my feet. I wake with the buzz of my alarm, and as per our morning ritual, my dick of a cat is waiting for my retreat from the safety of my blankets. Only as I blink and clear the sleep from my eyes, it’s not me Mick is meowing at.

  “You’re a good kitty cat, aren’t you?” Matt murmurs in his deep rumble. Oh. Right. Matt Haywood is in my bed. He slept over last night. I don’t know which is more alarming; that or the fact Mick is actually purring as Matt rubs behind his ears.

  I turn on my side and tuck my arm underneath my head as Matt lifts his gaze from the cat. His hair is wet, making the locks appear darker. They even curl a little from where they fall into his face. He’s dressed in only his boxers, and I soak in the view of his naked chest while resisting the urge to sigh. He’s a gorgeous man.

  “Morning, sleepy. Hope it’s okay I used your shower.” His lips pull up on one side and I swear Mick’s purring gets even louder. “Cute cat.”

  “His name’s Mick.”

  “Mick?” Matt quirks his brow.

  “Mick Grimes, yeah.”

  “The show.” He chuckles, getting the reference, and stands from the bed. “Nice.” Mick jumps off the bed and follows Matt over to the corner of my room. I watch as Matt retrieves pieces of his clothes from last night one by one.

  “Now who’s doing a walk of shame?”

  “Are you kidding?” He turns his chin to give me a wink before pulling his pants up and picking his shirt up off the floor. “It’s a walk of honor. I’m proud to be leaving your place in my day old clothes. I hope everyone notices.” He does a little shimmy and it’s enough to make me laugh, even at this early hour.

  “You’re such a dork.” I toss a pillow at him but he dodges it, instead walking over to gather the rest of his clothing.

  He comes to sit at the foot of my bed, all teasing gone from his expression. “Hey, I have to head to the gym.”

  I nod. “Okay, I should probably get ready for work, too.”

  “Thank you. For last night.” His hand squeezes my leg through the covers. Last night meant something more to him. It was evident in every touch and kiss. I should ask why, but before I can, his lips lift into a smirk. “And this morning.”

  “What did I do this morning?” I shake my head, totally confused.

  He grins again and that’s when I notice a second too late he has the blankets clenched in each hand. With a yank he pulls them right off my body and his eyes light with appreciation at my naked form.

  “Really, Matt?” I sit up, not at all ashamed to be bare in front of him. Why should I be when his gaze holds so much desire?

  “I really have to leave . . .” He groans and turns away to find his shoes.

  Things between us are light, easy, and the smart thing would be to let it ride, but with the morning of a new day, I can’t just let things go. “Why did you cancel our date on Saturday?” The words blurt out, causing him to stop and meet my stare.

  “I got held up training Xavier Johnson. He’s been going through a few things that we had to work around.”

  I nod because that’s an answer that makes perfect sense. One that doesn’t include drama or games.

  “Why did you show at Zig’s?” His gaze is full of a watchfulness that goes straight to my intent.

  “I let my friend talk me into it. That was a mistake.”

  “Why? Because it didn’t work out the way you wanted?”

  “No, because she ditched me for a one-night stand and then you went all controlling alpha on me. I don’t like that, Matt. I told you I don’t like being told what to do, or where to go.”

  He nods. His gaze is sober but he walks closer until he stands over me. He bends down and lifts my chin with the tips of his fingers. His lips brush against mine once and then he pulls away. “Okay. I’m sorry about that. I won’t do it again.”

  “Thank you,” I murmur and hold his gaze until I can’t anymore.

  Meow. Mick jumps on the bed and trots between us. I pull back, lifting the covers over my body for protection and the shuffle causes Mick to jump down with another loud meow.

  “Your cat is adorable.” Matt chuckles.

  And there he is, Mick fucking Grimes, winding his way in and out of Matt’s legs in circle eights. His tail twitches back and forth, and for once he actually seems content. What the—? Is he purring?

  “He’s a real traitor, that’s for sure,” I grumble and climb off the bed to throw on a big T-shirt and pair of sweats. Matt walks out to the living room and I can hear him cooing to Mick while he laces up his boots. I step out of my room to get a glass of water and when I pass by, the cat hisses.

  “Whoa!” Matt bends down and scratches Mick behind the ears. “No need to get excited, big guy. I promise to be good to your owner.”

  “He’s not pissed at you. He hates me.”

  “Your cat hates you? I’m sure that’s not true.”

  “The fucker shits in my closet once a week. The last time, I swear he smiled at me mid-poo.”

  “I think you’re being paranoid. He’s a good cat. Aren’t you, buddy?” Mick just purrs and rubs his head on Matt’s palm as though he can’t get enough. At least that’s something Mick and I have in common.

  “Really, Mick? Make a liar out of me, why don’t you?” I laugh because Matt really does have some lion tamer gift when it comes to my psycho cat. Bringing my cup to my lips, I take a gulp of water.

  Matt walks over. “Mia, I have something I want to ask you.”

  Oh, God. This is it. The moment he asks me to take t
hings further. To label our relationship when I’m not ready. Only this time is different, and for the first time I’d actually consider it. Oh, God. What’s happened to my cold heart for one?

  “Mia? You okay?” He tilts his head.

  I realize I’m still holding the water in my mouth. I swallow and set my glass down. “What? Fine. Yeah. Sure.”

  He laughs at my sputtering and steps into my personal space. “You sure?”

  “Totally. Why do you ask?”

  “You went white as a ghost there. Or should I say zombie?” His knuckles skim over my cheekbone, a tender graze and I have to shut my eyes as his hand cups my jaw.

  “I’m fine. Promise,” I whisper as my pulse races along with thoughts of this man. Of being together. Which only leads to images of more sex together and my lids snap open. His lips, so damn plump I want to kiss them, are only a short distance away and all I can focus on. Even when he laughs at me. He’s totally laughing at me.

  “What?” I snap more harshly than I intend. Doesn’t deter his amusement.

  “Nothing. I really like when you look at my mouth like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you want these lips on you. All over you. Fuck, Mia. I think about that more than I should.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Shit. I’m already distracted. My question.”

  “What question?”

  “Will you . . .” My heart skips a beat. That or I hold my breath until the rest of the words leave his glorious lips. “Come watch my guys fight?”

  “Fight?” I shake my head because my attraction toward this man is now fucking with my ability to process words.

  “Yeah, the one I’ve been telling you about. My guy, Xavier, has a big match-up. I think it could be a life changer for him. Me too, really. I have a couple others on the card also. Could be a big night for my gym and I’d like you to come.”

  “Oh.” I don’t know why I’m disappointed. I really thought he was going to ask for more. And I was going to give it to him. My pride is more than a little bruised, which is stupid of me. I set these boundaries. I made the rules. He’s only playing by them. “So, should I bring a friend? How do I get tickets?”