Fighter's Heart: A Hot Sports Romance (Crown MMA Romance)

by A. Rivers

  “So goddamned hard,” he admits, stroking himself through the fabric of his shorts.

  I swallow, my mouth dry. “Get naked. Now.”

  He strips off, and I drool a little. His thighs are bulky and strong, and his cock—wow. It’s thick, really freaking long, and surprisingly well-groomed.

  He takes that cock in his hand and strokes it lazily, watching me watch him. “Like what you see?”

  “I’d like it more if I was touching it.” Grabbing his forearm, I ease him away and smooth my fingers over the head, smearing precum down his length. He’s as turned on as I am, and more than anything, I want to hear him gasp and groan and lose all of his iron willpower. As I wrap my hand around him, his entire body goes rigid, and beads of sweat roll over the ridges of his abdomen. He thrusts forward, demanding more, and I squat and lick him.

  “Fuck, baby.” He grabs fistfuls of my hair and jerks me forward so I take him fully into my mouth. “More.”

  I go to town on him, playing out many of the fantasies I’ve had since our first kiss, loving the way he strains and sighs and talks dirty to me. His fingers plunge into my hair, and then he’s guiding me up and down the way he likes. But you know what? I want to be in control. I pull myself off him with a pop, and his hips jerk closer, seeking me out again.

  I turn my face away. “Behave yourself. This is my game.”

  Not willing to play by my rules, he releases his grip on my hair and jerks himself, muttering something under his breath about cock teases. I have to say, watching him pleasure himself is really working for me. I reach for him, but he draws back.

  “You wanted to play silly games,” he growls. “Now I’m playing. Sit on the bed and show me your pretty pussy.”

  My vagina purrs, pleased to have his attention. I’m eager to see where this is going, so I do as he orders, lying back and resting on my elbows, wriggling my panties off and spreading my thighs so he can see me, glistening pink and waiting for him. I dip a finger into myself and slide it through my folds, keeping my eyes on him, seeing his pupils dilate and his nostrils flare.

  He takes an involuntary step forward, then seems to catch himself, and barks, “Don’t touch yourself. I’m the only one allowed to touch that pussy.”

  I arch a brow. “Oh, really?” I don’t stop, but instead slide a second finger in to join the party. “What’re you going to do about it?” I don’t see him move, but next thing I know he’s pinned me to the bed and has my wrists above my head. A laugh escapes me. “Huh. You really are that good.”

  He lowers his mouth to my ear, not releasing my hands. “However good you think I am, double it. I’m the best you’ll ever have, cutie pie.”

  I nuzzle him. “Prove it.”

  I expect him to thrust into me, going straight for the prize, but instead he orders me to keep my hands where they are while he slides down my body. The moment his mouth latches onto my throbbing center, my hands are in his hair. Stopping, he removes his face from between my thighs and looks at me, waiting until I return my hands above my head before continuing.

  A whimper tears through me. I struggle to lie still beneath his sensual onslaught without grabbing onto something—anything—to anchor myself in the present. I can hardly believe this is actually happening. I’ve known this man for less than a week, and while I’ve had the occasional one-night stand, casual affairs aren’t something I make a habit of. Especially not ones with guys like this. Men who could use me and toss me aside with a broken heart, or worse. And on top of that, ones who could jeopardize my entire career.

  “Please,” I gasp, needing to be on a level footing with him, needing not to come until he does, too. I can’t be the weak one in this crazy whirlwind of passion. “I want you to fuck me. Right. Now.”

  He rises up on his elbows, and his gaze is ferocious in its intensity. “How do you like it?”

  He’s actually asking? It’s sweet I suppose, but can’t the asshole just get down to screwing me?

  “Me on top.” That way I retain some of the power. Based on the way he grins and buries his face in me again, he likes my answer. My head drops, my back arches up, and I’m so close—so close—but then he’s gone.

  I scream in frustration. But then, once I’ve recovered, I clamber to my knees and point a finger at him. “Bring your glorious cock back here and shove it in me, you asshole.”

  Giving me a wink, he holds up a condom. “Thought you might want this.”

  I pout. “I also wanted to come.”

  His cock bobs, as if it likes that answer. He sheaths himself and sits on the mattress, his back against the bed head, legs sprawled before him. “I’m at your mercy. Ride me like you want to.”

  And then he interlocks his fingers behind his head and leans back as though he doesn’t have a care in the world. Well, I’m about to change that. Jase Rawlins will beg me for more by the time I’m done with him. While I’m not always sexually adventurous, I’m confident in myself, and in the chemistry that’s been sizzling between us since day one.

  Crawling up his body, I circle his dick with my fingers and lower myself onto it, just the tiniest bit. He watches, and the only thing that shows he isn’t as relaxed as he’d like to appear is the way his eyes track my every movement, and his jaw tightens. When I slide him inside me another inch, his hips reflexively tilt up, and I lift off him.

  Yeah, I’m as good at playing games as you.

  I ease myself onto him again, until his thick head is inside me, and circle my hips. Then, before he can do anything about it, I pull away. I continue the torture, taking a little more of him each time until his abs are quivering with restraint and, finally, I’m fully seated on him. I begin to move and he snaps, losing all hint of the laid-back role he’s been playing. He grips my hips and slams me down onto him. I love the slapping sound of our skin.

  “Was that fun for you?” he asks. “You like driving me out of my fucking mind?”

  Before I can answer, one of his arms curves around my lower back and he tugs me even closer, claiming my mouth in a kiss that’s hot and carnal and wild. I’m amazed at how in sync our bodies are. When I press down, he thrusts up, and we keep pace with each other, him muttering filthy encouragements under his breath, then groaning when I mix it up and corkscrew onto him. I moan as he touches a place deep within me that I never knew existed.

  “Oh, God,” I cry, and he kisses my neck, licks the bottom of my earlobe, then takes it between his teeth.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he tells me. “So amazing and fiery and goddamn perfect.”

  Something inside me thaws. Something I’d never planned on giving Jase Rawlins access to, and I realize, as the most wonderful sense of rightness sings in my veins, that if I’m not careful, he could steal my heart.

  Then his tongue is in my mouth, and we’re breathing as one, moving as one. Up and up, carrying each other higher, until blackness flickers behind my eyelids and we crash over the pinnacle of pleasure together. I hear a voice, and realize I’m chanting his name. He thrusts once more, curses, and goes limp beneath me, his arms holding me so tight I can hardly breathe.

  Wow.

  Now that’s what it’s all about. That’s what it’s like to be with a man who cares about mutual satisfaction. Completely spectacular.

  The sweat cools on my skin, and I wonder if I should get off him. What’s the etiquette after you’ve finished having your way with a guy like Jase? He probably doesn’t want me flopping on top of him like so much dead weight. Shifting position, I try to move, but he won’t let me go.

  “Just another minute,” he murmurs, and I submit, resting my chin awkwardly on his shoulder. A smile steals over my face. Is he catching his breath, or is the big bad MMA fighter actually snuggling me? After his allotted minute, he lets me go, and I hop off, grab my blouse and yank it over my head.

  “Hold up,” he says, as he disposes of the condom. “I was enjoying the view.”

  So. Am. I.

  Although his cock is droopy, it s
hows signs of recovering, and he’s just standing in my doorway looking like an advertisement for invisible Calvin Kleins.

  “Shirt off, and back on the bed,” he orders.

  I consider arguing, but I’m not the type to bite off my nose to spite my face, so I whip the blouse off and lie on the bed. Jase whistles and eyes me appreciatively, then stretches alongside me. Slipping an arm beneath my waist, he draws me to his side. I rest my cheek on his chest, and it’s official. We’re cuddling. He threads the fingers of his free hand through mine, and turns to nuzzle the crook of my shoulder. It frightens me how much I like it. Being held by him is second only to feeling his stiff length inside me. He’s such a warm person, more so than I’d ever imagined, and I’m shocked how protective I feel over him. It’s laughable, considering he’s physically far more capable of defending himself than I am, but who protects him from emotional harm?

  Me. That’s who. From now on, it’s my job to keep the generous man hiding inside this tattooed, muscular exterior safe from anyone who might threaten him. But before I go announcing that to the world, I need to know I’m safe with him.

  “Hey, Jase,” I say tentatively. “We can just keep this between ourselves, right? It’s kind of frowned upon at work to bang the clients.”

  He drops a tender kiss on the side of my neck. “Sure thing, baby. It’s our secret.”

  12

  Jase

  Two days later, I wake after a vivid dream during which I somehow coaxed five orgasms from Lena like the sex machine I am, and she rewarded me with the mother of all blow jobs. My thighs are shaking, dick spreading goo all over the sheets. Since the bedding is clearly a loss, I finish myself off with a couple of tugs, then put the sheets in the wash and have a shower. My cleaner comes a couple of times a week, but there’s no way mopping up jizz is in her job description.

  Once I’m clean and dry, I wrap a towel around my waist and check my phone. Then I blink in astonishment. Fifteen missed calls? The only time this has ever happened was after I dumped Erin. I check the numbers, but they’re all different. Cautiously, I play the first voicemail. It’s Nick.

  “Jase, my man. That publicist we hired is pure gold. People have been ringing for you nonstop since her article came out last night, and ninety percent of the calls are positive. You owe her a bonus and you should also consider getting on your knees and kissing her toes. Seriously, have you read it? Give me a call.”

  The second message is from Devon, and it’s along the same lines. Apparently, Lena is a genius and I should worship at her altar. I grin because it crosses my mind that I already have, and I wouldn’t mind doing so again. Perhaps she’ll have time to see me tonight. She was too busy yesterday, working on her article and then revising it after I made some suggestions.

  I listen to another thirteen messages, including three invitations to hook up from women I’ve never met. I delete those. The only woman I want to be with right now is the one responsible for the rapid change in my fortunes. Strolling over to open the curtains and let the sun in, I dial Lena’s number.

  “You’re fucking fantastic,” I say when she answers. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  She laughs, and I picture the cute smile that must be twisting her lips. “You’re very welcome. I’m glad it’s helping.”

  “Helping?” I shake my head. “That’s an understatement. You’re brilliant. I’m so grateful I could kiss you.”

  “Oh?” Is it just me, or did her voice drop an octave and become husky?

  “Abso-fuckin-lutely.”

  “I’m just doing my job.”

  “Hell, yeah. Doing it like a boss.”

  She chuckles again. “Well, once you stopped being a dick, my job was surprisingly easy.”

  The comment doesn’t bother me in the least because I was being a dick, and she was being uptight. Neither of us made the best first impression, but that’s neither here nor there.

  “Can I see you tonight?” I’m shocked to find my heart lodged in my throat while I await her reply. I desperately want to watch her eyes flash with passion, and see her tempting lips pout for a kiss.

  “Actually…”

  I’m not sure I like the way she draws the word out. “Yeah?”

  “I need to see you about work, if you can spare the time. There’s an opportunity I’d like to discuss with you.”

  “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be great. Come by the gym when you’re free and I’ll make time for you.” The fact I’m prioritizing Lena over training should frighten me, but for some reason it doesn’t. Maybe I’m in the stupid phase of the infatuation cycle, because even the thought of waiting a couple of hours to see her feels like forever.

  “I’ll see you later.” She pauses, then adds, “I’m happy things are working out for you. Train hard.”

  Lena

  It’s insane how nervous I am about seeing Jase. We haven’t been together since we were together in every sense of the word. That night, I’d fallen asleep in his arms, then been roused early in the morning by a hard dick between my legs. He’d obviously been having a good dream, but he woke quickly when I started petting him, and we screwed slow and languid, him filling me from behind and holding me tight until we climaxed and drifted back to sleep.

  When I woke again, he’d already left, but fresh coffee was in the pot and a bagel had been removed from the freezer, ready to be toasted. I have to admit, his making me breakfast just about wrecked my heart. It was such a sweet gesture, and not what I’d have expected after an evening of filthy sex with no promises of commitment. Karson never thought of me in the morning, and come to think of it, nor did most of my exes, which raises the question: am I attracted to men who are self-obsessed?

  Ugh. I need to do some serious reflection, but for now, it’s time to get my head on straight. I don’t know how Jase will behave around me, especially considering I asked him not to tell anyone about us, but he wants to see me, so that’s a good sign. Right?

  Anyway, this is work. Strictly work. At least, for as long as it takes me to secure his agreement to attend a charitable fundraiser. Hopefully I won’t have to twist his arm too hard, but I get the feeling Jase prefers to stay out of the limelight when it comes to this kind of thing. Strange because he seems so comfortable in front of an audience when he’s in the cage.

  After taking care of my office-based duties, I drive to Crown MMA Gym, park outside, and let myself in. Just inside the entrance, I encounter Devon Green. A massive grin spreads across his face and he yanks me into a bear hug, nearly lifting me from the ground. A squeak of shock escapes me, and he sets me back down, holding onto my shoulders until I’m steady.

  “Thank you,” he says, voice full of emotion. “I knew you could dig Jase’s stubborn ass out of that hole he got himself into.”

  Touching my hair to make sure it’s still in place, I return his smile. “We’re only halfway out of the hole, but I think he’ll pull through.”

  “So do I.” He claps me on the back, and the force of it sends me reeling, the breath lurching out of my lungs. “Oh, my bad. Forgot you were such a delicate thing. Sorry about that.”

  Recovering, I glare at him. “I’m not delicate, you’re just a giant.”

  He backs off, hands raised in peace. “Easy, Lena. That wasn’t meant to be an insult.”

  I bristle. “Would you take ‘delicate’ as a compliment?”

  “Well, no,” he admits, running a meaty hand through short black hair. “But I’m a guy. You’re a—”

  “Oh. Hell. No.” I’m not having this conversation. Devon Green is a Neanderthal, and that’s all there is to it. “You’re welcome,” I tell him, then add, “But you can stop talking now before you make it worse.”

  “Great job, Dev.” This wry comment comes from Gabe Mendoza, who appears behind him and offers me a hand. His grip is firm and warm, and far more pleasant than being crushed. “Seriously, thanks. What you’re doing means a lot to us, although Jase probably won’t tell you that himself.”<
br />
  “He has,” I say, earning raised eyebrows from both of them. I look past them, into the gym. They’re blocking the entrance. “And you’re both welcome. Can I come in?”

  “What?” Gabe asks, even as Devon recognizes the situation they’ve put me in and scuttles out of the way. “Oh.”

  Slipping my shoes off, I glance around until I see Jase bouncing on the balls of his feet in front of a speed bag, his fists nothing but blurs. I watch for a moment, enjoying the way sweat gleams on his skin and his muscles flex and bulge as his powerful arms move. Eventually, a timer blares and he steps away and mops his face on a towel. When he turns, our eyes catch, and a flutter-volcano erupts in my soul.

  Immediately, he drops the towel and beelines toward me, greeting me with a lopsided grin. “Hey, cutie pie.”

  Gabe stares at him, and Devon snorts with laughter, but Jase ignores them, looping his arms around my waist and drawing me in for a thoroughly sensual kiss. The moment our lips touch, all my promises about being professional go out the window and I clutch him closer, only mildly aware of the fact his sweat is rubbing off all over me—and so is something else. Some kind of oil that reeks of menthol and is hot but icy at the same time.

  “Whoa,” one of the men mutters as the kiss drags on.

  I plant my hands on Jase’s shoulders and gently push. “What happened to keeping it quiet?”

  “Oh, shit. Sorry.” His face falls. “I was excited to see you.” He glances at his friends. “You didn’t see anything, right?”

  Devon nods. “Riiight, bro. ’Course not.”

  “Please guys,” I say. “Don’t mention this.”

  “Don’t worry. We won’t,” Gabe assures me, and his sincerity calms me somewhat.

  “Thank you.” I turn to Jase. “Can we talk in private?”

  Devon guffaws. “I think that’s code, bro.”

  Cue eye roll. “It is not. Strictly business.”

  Devon’s eyes widen, and so does his grin. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather date me, Lena? Because I guarantee I’ve got more moves than this idiot.” He shoves Jase playfully.