by EMILIE ROSE
His grip tightened. An almost bestial look snarled his face as his pace increased. Bella’s insides coiled and she arched into him, trying to get closer, trying to trap him in this pure, wild moment.
Yes. This is what I want.
She flung her arms around him as everything inside her ratcheted tight. Then she shattered, sheer release throbbing through every muscle. Almost simultaneously, Kyle threw his head back and stiffened, mouth open in a silent groan.
He collapsed on top of her, sighing as he planted kisses along her clavicle, tenderly fondling her breast. She was empty of sensation, her pleasure wrung dry. All she could think about apart from the damp weight between her legs and the bonelessness of her limbs was that this was where she wanted to be forever and ever.
“Not bad,” Kyle murmured after a while, “for a first go.”
She stared at him shell-shocked as he rolled her over and made her straddle him. Her face split in a delighted grin.
“Now,” he growled, digging his fingers into her hips, “show me what you can do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
BORN AGAIN. That was the only thing Kyle could compare this feeling to as he woke up the next morning. Every limb felt supple, and his back and chest felt light. It was like he was twenty-one again, rather than thirty-six—energetic, vital, invincible.
Bella slept like a log next to him, her mouth slightly open, and her body still deliciously naked. He watched her as the late-morning light cast a prism of rainbow colors on her thick black hair. He doubted a jet engine could rattle her....
He paused in wonder. It’d been the first time in months since he’d had a full—he glanced at the clock—whoa, ten hours of sleep in his own bed, undisturbed. A sense of accomplishment and pride rushed through him. He’d made it through the night with Bella. He hadn’t had any nightmares, hadn’t shot up out of his bed at the slightest sound. He’d had sex without embarrassing himself. His body had listened to him. He’d stayed fully in control of himself.
Just like the good old days.
He lay back with a grin. Part of him wanted to jump up and whoop, but he couldn’t bring himself to wake Bella. After last night’s activities, they both deserved to sleep.
He watched the woman lying next to him, and a funny pang went through him. How had he ever thought she looked like a man when her curves were so damned sexy? Her breasts weren’t huge, sure, but anything more than a handful was a waste anyhow.
Classy, Peters. Real classy. He shook the thought away. That was no way to think of this wonderful woman. This paragon. This...
Bella snorted and began snoring loudly. He held back a chuckle and stroked her shoulder, kissing the warm skin there. His lower parts stirred, tapping against the small of her back, and he knew she was awake the moment she stopped snoring and wiggled against him.
“You keep doing that and we’ll be here all day,” he said.
“That a bad thing?” She cracked one eye open and groaned. “What time is it?”
“Past ten. Don’t get up yet.” He wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her from turning over. “There are things I want to do to you still.”
“Now who’s the greedy one?” She kissed him, lips lingering until he was fully awake and ready to go a few more rounds, but then drew back. “I have to pee.” She flung the blanket off, rising and stretching fully naked before walking to the bathroom. Kyle enjoyed the view all the way.
As she returned, she stumbled. “Ow! Dammit—your robber.” She held up the board game piece that had lodged in the sole of her foot, then grimaced. “We should clean this up.”
“Later.” He held his arms open. “C’mere. We can play afterward.”
She climbed under the blankets next to him, hugging him around his torso like a koala bear. “Forget the board games. I want to play with something else.”
Morning quickly became afternoon, and Kyle would’ve let it bleed into the evening, too, if Bella hadn’t insisted on going home. She wanted a shower, a change of clothes and then a light workout, despite all the exercise they were getting at his place.
He’d never felt so relaxed in his life. He should’ve been bone tired, but he felt as if he could take on the world.
After she’d left, he stooped to gather up the pieces of the board game off the floor. Sunlight painted the room in pale gold, and he thought how different things in here suddenly felt. Brighter. More open. Bella had consecrated this space. After Karla—after he’d moved—he’d never brought any woman to his home before. He didn’t want any of them knowing where he lived—but Bella was different.
He opened the window, letting a cool, damp breeze sweep through. He hadn’t realized how claustrophobic the room had felt before. He was forced to admit now that all those sleepless nights hadn’t been caused by scratchy sheets or a lumpy mattress.
As he turned from the window, he looked at his shadow on the wall, then tilted his head to one side. Strange, he’d never noticed how thin the paint job in here was. He could see the darker color beneath the streaks of off-white. The color beneath it was a dark maroon, like a bruise.
He shook off a chill as the sunlight suddenly disappeared behind a cloud. He’d make a point of giving the place another coat of paint at some point. Maybe Bella would help him...
A bittersweet pang arrowed through him. Her contract with Payette’s would be up in April. And if she won the women’s featherweight championship, she’d become a star. Media interviews, sponsorships, charity events, movie roles—Bella would have her hands full. Even if she didn’t win the match, she’d probably go back to Brazil. In either case, he didn’t have a claim to her. A foreign feeling corkscrewed through his gut.
Bree’s coming, he reminded himself. She would be in the States soon, and they could continue where they’d left off without fear.
His future looked wide-open. Which was how he’d always liked it.
* * *
FIVE POUNDS. Twenty-five days.
Those were the only things Bella should have been concentrating on, but Kyle’s intense gaze and inexorable commands only made her think of the weekend they’d spent together.
“Harder,” Kyle demanded. “C’mon, harder!”
Bella ignored the tightening of her insides and threw herself into the punches. Sweat dripped into her eyes. Every precious drop was another fraction of an ounce. Every second brought her closer to her future.
Where did Kyle figure into that future? He didn’t, she told herself, even if she had stayed overnight—and longer—against her own advice. So instead, she wondered about how many calories she could burn in bed with Kyle and hoped she got to test her hypothesis.
Her fists throbbed, her arms burned. Wayne said, “Stop,” and she hunched, hands on her knees, breathing hard. She winced as the boxing coach glowered down at her.
“Take a rest.” He looked angrier than usual, the ruched flesh between his eyebrows ruddy. Maybe he was on the verge of another migraine.
Kyle set the pads aside and sipped from his water bottle, eyes still on her. The corner of his mouth twitched as she toasted him with her own bottle. On Sunday after she’d gone home for her shower and change of clothes, Kyle had convinced her to skip the workout. They’d had a late lunch, gone for a stroll, and managed a quickie before dinner. Despite being on a strict diet and training for the fight of her life, she’d never felt so full and satisfied and pampered.
The suggestive smile in Kyle’s eyes told her he knew it, too. Heat trickled between her thighs, and she danced in place, trying to shake off his intense perusal.
“I said take a break,” Wayne barked. “Meaning, slow your goddamned heart down before it explodes.”
“Sorry.” What was his deal? Wayne stalked toward Kyle and said something she couldn’t hear. Kyle frowned.
“We’ll stop for now,�
� he told Bella. “Would you do me a favor and ask Liz about the flyers we’re handing out at Mardi Gras? I’d like you to have a look at them, read them over, tell me what you think.”
“Uh...sure.”
She found the flyer on Liz’s desk and sat down to read it. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Wayne entering Kyle’s office. The door swung only partially shut behind them. Their voices were low at first, but it was obvious Wayne was upset about something. She could see him gesturing sharply through the blinds. She couldn’t make out anything they said, though, and then the phone at reception rang. Since Liz wasn’t there, she picked up. “Payette’s Gym.”
“Hi, I’m looking for Kyle Peters.” The voice on the other end of the line was like a Brillo Pad rolled in butter. “Could you tell him it’s Bree? I’m an old friend.”
“Sure. I’ll transfer you. Hang on.” She stared at the phone. She’d never forwarded a call before from the front desk, and the letters had long since been worn off the buttons. Ten seconds went by as she tried to find a manual, and she brought the receiver to her ear again. “Sorry, I’m not the normal receptionist and I don’t know how to use this phone. Can you wait a minute? I’ll call Kyle over.”
“Take your time.”
Bella put the receiver down and went to Kyle’s office. At the door, she halted when she heard Wayne say, “She’s not going to survive one round at this rate. You want to be the one responsible when she ends up being carried out on a stretcher?”
“She won’t, Wayne. Have some faith.” Kyle’s voice was hard but even.
“God, Kyle—I thought you’d keep it in your pants, but it’s pretty clear to me you two did something.”
“What either of us does during our off time is none of your business.”
“Bullshit. It’s everyone’s business. You know why? Because all that freaking crap you went through with Karla scared off nearly half our clients. Before Bella got here, the place was falling apart. Now we’ve got a chance to bring Payette’s back, but she’s got to win the belt if you want to make sure we all keep our jobs. Instead, you’re screwing Bella—”
Bella knocked loudly and pushed the door open. Wayne towered over Kyle, who sat rigidly behind his desk. Wayne’s face turned a bright shade of red. She cleared her throat. “There’s a phone call for you, Kyle. A woman named Bree. She said she’s an old friend.”
Kyle blinked slowly and gave a tight smile. “Can you transfer the call?”
“Sorry, Liz isn’t at the desk, and I can’t figure out how to...” She made empty gestures.
Kyle got up swiftly. “Wayne, we’ll talk later.”
“Yeah. Right.” The heavyweight lumbered out without meeting Bella’s eye.
She followed the boxing coach back toward his corner, where he started wrapping his hands, his movements jerky. She wasn’t sure how she should feel about Wayne’s lack of confidence in her, or the way he was blaming Kyle. All she knew was they needed to talk. “You have something you want to say to me?” she asked.
“You weren’t supposed to hear any of that.” He kept the tape tight, frowning hard.
“C’mon, Coach. I’m a big girl. I know I haven’t been at my best, but it’s got nothing to do with Kyle.”
His face bloomed with color again, and he gave a low curse. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like it did. The gym’s not in that much trouble, but Kyle...” He rubbed a finger beneath his nose. “Well, in any case, you’ll kick ass. That’s all that matters.”
“I know you’re just looking out for me. But I can take care of myself. I know what I’m doing.”
“You kids think you know everything.” He sighed. “Look, Bella. I like you. You remind me of my oldest daughter. Scrappy and tough as nails. I wasn’t much of a dad to her, y’know. That’s what happens when you travel all over for fights and training and stuff.”
Warmth filtered through her. “If you’re worried Kyle’s distracting me from the fight, he’s not.”
“I’d hate to see you get hurt is all.” He put up a hand. “I respect him, being my boss and all. But he’s not the guy I’d want dating my kid, y’know?”
She gave a wry smile. “We’re not dating.” Saying so out loud, though, made something inside her twinge.
His gaze rested on her as heavily as one of his meaty hands. The longer it sat there, the more she felt the weight of her self-delusion. She and Kyle might not be “dating,” but what she felt for him was more than friendly affection or lust.
“I see the way you guys look at each other. Don’t deny it. I have four kids from three different moms and each relationship started with those googly eyes. I know what that look means. And I’ve seen that look on his face before.”
“You’re crazy. There’s nothing—”
“Nothing? Really?” He gave a snort and glanced over at where Kyle stood by the reception desk. “Tiger can’t change its spots, kid.”
“You mean stripes.”
“Kyle’s a peculiar cat. You know, cuddles up to you one second and then...” He snapped his fingers. “Gone.” He wiped a hand over his mouth. “I’m just trying to look out for you, kid.”
A sour taste rose in her throat, and Bella’s veins churned with restless energy. She glanced at Kyle again, who smiled and leaned against the counter, looking supremely relaxed...not unlike the way he’d looked the morning after.
Her cheek ticked. Who was this Bree woman he was talking to? Was she really an old friend?
Unable to restrain her curiosity, she hurried to the back of the gym where an interoffice phone hung on the back pillar. She didn’t know how to use Liz’s big receptionist’s phone, but she understood this one—it had the three lines labeled, and she could clearly see only the one at the front desk was occupied. Heart trembling, she picked up the receiver and brought it to her ear, one hand clamped over the mouthpiece, and hit a few buttons.
“I wasn’t expecting you so soon. I thought you said you’d be here in February.” She could hear Kyle’s smile through the phone.
“I came early. I’ve missed you terribly, Kyle,” the husky, buttery voice cooed.
“I’ve missed you, too.”
Bella’s heart squeezed. He’d used that same honeyed tone on her not twenty-four hours ago. She leaned heavily against the pillar, her fingers going icy cold as they clutched the receiver.
“You won’t be too busy, I hope? I’ve been dreaming of that Sunday breakfast you promised me.”
“Not too busy, no. I have a client I’m working with right now. Her fight’s on the third Saturday of the month, but that leaves Mardi Gras and Valentine’s Day wide-open. We could make reservations at the Ritz-Carleton like we did before.”
“And order room service all weekend.” The woman’s rich, sex-drenched laughter sent shards of glass through Bella’s blood. She didn’t want to hear any more. Her chest felt as though it was caving in. Her eyes watered. No, not because she felt like crying, dammit, but because she was tired. Because she hadn’t blinked. The air was dry.
Dammit, she was not crying over a mulherengo estúpido!
She put the receiver back onto the cradle and ran for the locker room. She didn’t want anyone to see how shocked she was. How could she be surprised? This was Kyle. This was...
She opened her locker and started emptying it as Liz exited the bathroom stall. Liz’s eyes widened. “What is it? What’s happened?”
“I have to go.” She zipped up her gym bag quickly. Her emotions were bloating inside her, pushing against her skin, threatening to burst her open.
“Why?”
Heat seared her cheeks and brow, crawling down her neck and across her chest like a rash. She couldn’t admit her foolishness. The receptionist had tried to warn her about Kyle. Everyone had. Not in so many words, but with furtive looks and gentle suggestions, playful ja
bs and scandalous stories. But Bella hadn’t listened to anyone. Kyle was a playboy through and through. She couldn’t expect a weekend of sex with him to change that.
And she shouldn’t have been so naive to believe her feelings for him weren’t deeper than she’d made them out to be.
“Where are you going? Bella...”
“Something’s come up. I have to leave. I have to go...” Where did she have to go? All she knew right now was that she couldn’t stay there another minute.
Yes, run away, her grandfather’s voice mocked her. The parting shot before she’d left São Paulo. That is why you will fail. Why you will always fail. You have the weak heart of a woman.
Shame and rage collided inside her chest. She inhaled deeply. She was better than this. Better than that filho de uma cadela.
She pushed out of the locker room as Kyle hung up, a sly smile curving those sensuous lips. Lips that had worshipped her. Lips that had whispered soft, sexy words in her ear and trailed across her skin.
“Cachorro!” She flung at him, her cool facade cracking wide-open. She’d never let herself feel anger in the cage. She had a tight rein on her temper when it came to fighting. For a moment she was outside of herself, witnessing the wild, potent jealousy seething from her. But the pot had boiled over, and the gushing of emotions did not subside with the outburst. “Who was that? Who is this Bree, exactly?”
Kyle’s smile froze. “She’s an old friend.”
“‘Old friend’? You expect me to believe you’d invite her for a weekend of...of breakfast and hotel stays and—”
“You were listening to my phone call?” His gaze sharpened and flickered over her shoulder. She hadn’t realized Wayne and Liz were right behind her, maybe trying to talk her down. But she wasn’t about to let them.
“Yeah, I listened. And good thing. What is this to you, huh? This thing between us—”
He pointed. “Office. Now.”