Sucker for Payne

by Carrie Thomas

  And I gave it to him, with a fevered sigh of anticipation.

  Growling, he discarded my panties behind him and climbed up my body, until we were lined up seamlessly. “You’re perfect.”

  I grinned at his sweetness. “So are you.” I brought his cheek to my lips and placed a barely-there kiss at the bottom of his jaw. Feeling my way across his face, I traced his lips with my thumb, following its path blindly with my mouth.

  He didn’t even break my concentration when he opened the side drawer for a condom. Within seconds, he prepared himself and thrust into me.

  I gasped, as the tiniest pain shot from the exact spot where our bodies connected. It was gone as soon as I felt it, but it still surprised me a little. My legs relaxed, sweeping down the length of his legs, my toes sinking into every piece of skin they could reach.

  “You okay?” he asked gruffly.

  “Yes. Please don’t stop.” I reached behind me, grasping for anything that would anchor me. I didn’t want to risk losing any space between us.

  He lifted my right leg, kissed my calf, then moved my leg directly in front of him. His hips resumed the pumping motion, but his face was curious—almost examining. A chill ran up my back as I watched him watch me, like he had to know what I felt in that position. Moments later, he brought my leg to the other side of his head and draped it over his shoulder.

  I cried out with each movement, louder each time, experiencing unadulterated euphoria as our bodies melded so well together, I felt like we were one.

  “I can’t get close enough to you.” He leaned forward, my leg the only thing stopping him from pressing into me completely.

  At his words, my defenses shattered. Feeling like I was suffocating under the weight of my emotions, I attempted to quicken our pace from underneath him. I was in limbo, wanting our connection to never end, yet clawing to reach the top of an invisible mountain.

  I pushed into him as hard as I could, trying to get all I could from the last moments. His body drilled into mine with such delicious force, I screamed out and let go of everything; a wave of ecstasy raced from my core to my limbs. He grunted and spasmed with his own release, sinking into me contentedly.

  Silence fell around us like a blanket. It probably would have been awkward with anyone else, but with Conner, it was a moment of clarity. We were on the same page, neither of us confessing what we were feeling, but knowing without a doubt, the same thoughts and sentiments were buzzing through both of our minds, bodies, and souls at the same time.

  When he rolled off me and to the side, I reached for him. Even though I hadn’t been able to breathe before, I didn’t want to lose the closeness. Snuggling up to his side, he caressed my shoulder. Goose bumps broke out over my skin, but I didn’t reach for the blanket. I basked in the chill, knowing he’d caused it.

  “I think it’s fair to let you know that I’ve spent years trying to become who I want to be,” I whispered.

  “We all do.”

  I nodded. I had issues, but he had them to. I wanted to know his every secret, and what had kept him so strong during his stint in prison. I wanted him to know that I was a work in progress, but I’d never give up.

  I bit my bottom lip and raised slightly, so I could look into his eyes. “Full disclosure?”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m not proud of most of the things I’ve done. I’ve made horrible decision after horrible decision. One of the reasons I’m here, in this town, is because I wanted to make a new start.”

  “I get that.” He continued rubbing my shoulder, concentrating on a single spot. I was sure he didn’t realize he was even doing it.

  “I let other people influence me, and broke my back to do anything I could to make them happy. I put anything and anyone before myself.”

  “Happiness is an inside job.”

  “It is. I’ve learned that since then, but—”

  “I got you, babe. You can tell me the worst thing imaginable, and I’d still feel the same way about you. Nothing you could say will change that.”

  I took a deep breath, then reached for the sheet and blanket at the end of his bed. Something inside me needed a shield. “Overdosing wasn’t what made me want to change my life. You know, when you live at the lowest level imaginable, it’s hard to see the top of that mountain. But rehab changed me. Therapy made me see what I had to lose. It literally took another human being to tell me how much I mattered before I believed it.”

  I expected him to respond sooner. Instead, I watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down multiple times, as he swallowed the words he’d started to speak, over and over, yet never did. I feared my admission would change his perception of me. I knew from experience that even though no one ever wanted to be judgmental, sometimes as humans, we couldn’t help it. The only thing we ever had to go on was someone’s past, because we didn’t know the future yet.

  “I promise that I’ll never let you feel that low again.” He kissed the side of my head. “As long as I’m breathing, you won’t ever feel worthless again.”

  I smiled and sat up. I crossed my legs, readying myself for our not-so-pillow-talk.

  He followed my lead and pressed his back to the headboard. The sheet just barely covered him. “I don’t think about it when I’m around you. The alcohol.”

  As good as his words made me feel, I knew from experience that you couldn’t put your addiction in someone else’s hands. It could never be up to me, because he had free will. At any given moment, he could change his future, without so much as asking my opinion; and if he ever got into a vulnerable headspace, my opinion wouldn’t matter anyway. Addiction was selfish like that.

  “I’m glad you’re not suffering. Have you ever thought about AA or therapy?”

  “Nah. They had a program in prison, but…I don’t know.” He brought his arm up behind his head. “It wasn’t like people were there because they wanted to be, you know?”

  I nodded in understanding. “Well, I’m here for you. Whatever you need, Conner.”

  “Come here.” He leaned up and pulled me onto his lap. We both sat there, not speaking, but feeling each other. Listening to one another’s heart beats and shallow breaths. Both of us knew, no matter what came tomorrow, nothing could change how perfect tonight had been.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Conner

  “Damn, man. We’re only going to be gone for three days,” Steele chuckled, putting our bags in his Jeep.

  “Shut the fuck up,” I mumbled from around Willow’s lips. She’d driven up to the gym just to say goodbye.

  “No need to fight, boys.” Willow pulled away from me and winked. “Call me when you get a chance.”

  “Will do.” I swatted her ass one last time, and jumped in the passenger side, ready to roll.

  Steele managed the side streets with ease and didn’t speak up until we hit the freeway. “So, you and Willow. . . .”

  “You knew about it already.”

  “Well, yeah, I mean I knew you guys were dating, but I didn’t realize it was serious.”

  “It’s serious.” We’d never talked relationships before, and I didn’t feel the need to start, but for some reason, I didn’t need to keep my feelings for her a secret either.

  He chuckled and shook his head. I wasn’t sure what he found so funny about it, and I didn’t care enough to ask. I closed my eyes and thought about the perfect woman I’d just left in the parking lot. I never imagined I could experience the kind of happiness Willow gave me—not after the accident. I’d only been concerned about making it day to day. The future had never occurred to me. It was not something tangible.

  But now…even though I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, I just knew I wanted her there. Hence, my reminiscing about not wanting to leave her behind on my way to Las Vegas with Steele. I would have gone, regardless, to support my buddy in his fight, but I had a second agenda in mind.

  Meeting Richard Fuller, the CEO of the AFL was an opportunity Steele wasn’t going to let me pass
up. He’d been talking me up for the last couple of months, trying to get Richard to come to one of my fights. He’d even sent him a couple of fight tapes. Steele said he was interested, but was firm in the fact that I needed more experience. I didn’t disagree, so I decided to take the chance and do the face to face.

  Other than getting situated in our hotel rooms, Steele and I hadn’t done too much. Since it was his fight night, I left everything up to him, and only piped up when he spoke to me. I knew how I liked to be by myself before going into the cage, and I was willing to give him the same courtesy. Not to mention, the fight was a live pay-per-view event, which meant money was being made per minute. There was more pressure involved.

  I could tell he was antsy. He’d only ever fought Mackle once before, but that was two years ago. I hadn’t watched the tape until recently. Mackle was a squirrely little shit, but in the fighting profession, those were the ones you had to watch out for.

  The tenth time Steele walked out onto the balcony, I decided to speak up. “You all right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You sure about that?”

  He took a sip of his water. “I haven’t said anything because I’m not sure yet, but I’m considering retirement.”

  “Why?” He hadn’t said so much as a word to me about quitting.

  “Dude, my knees hurt. My back is fucked up. My neck aches more often than not. I’m thirty-five. I’m not as young as I used to be, you know?”

  I nodded, understanding what he was saying, but still shocked. “I get it. Just don’t think about that shit today. Not on a fight night. Get this win, then we’ll start planning your funeral. Okay, old man?”

  “Funeral? You’re a real prick.” He grinned, but I could tell he wasn’t done thinking about it. He threw his backpack over his shoulder and started for the door.

  Walking into the arena was surreal. I’d never been to a fight so anticipated before. The crowds were already forming outside. I got a small glimpse of what it would be like if I were to go pro, and instead of being excited, I second-guessed the whole process. It was almost as if seeing behind the scenes for the first time shocked my system. It terrified me more than anything, and I didn’t like the uncertainty of it all. Not to mention, there were cameras in his face every time he turned around, and a constant stream of people wanting autographs. It was too busy for me.

  Steele introduced me to a gaggle of people—from the guys who set up the cage, to the PR people for the league. I even met a few professional fighters who were there for support, but my mind kept reverting to my insecurities. The more I thought about them, the more I just wanted to get on a plane and fly back home.

  “Hey, man. Good to meet you.” Jesse Jamison shook my hand.

  He was the best fighter who’d ever been in the league. He had more wins under his belt than anyone. He was also undefeated, which was an accomplishment in and of itself. He was the fastest, the fiercest, the most incredible ground fighter there was. Not much impressed me, but he sure as hell did.

  “Same.” I nodded as I glanced from him to Steele. I had a feeling he was still preoccupied from our earlier conversation. He was more quiet than normal.

  “You ready to kick a little ass, Steele?” Jamison smiled, showing us his gold tooth. “Mackle told Hinder he’d have you tapping in three rounds.”

  “Three? I plan on shutting this down in two.” Steele slammed his locker, placing a roll of tape on the table.

  “We’ll see, my man.” He turned his attention to me, while Steele continued to prep. “Steele tells me you’re a hell of a fighter.”

  “I do okay.”

  He chuckled, and so did the rest of the guys. I wasn’t aware that I’d said anything funny. “Are you interested in fighting at this level?” he asked.

  “Not sure,” I said, my head leaned all the way back to inspect the huge ceiling.

  “He is. He just doesn’t know it yet,” Steele replied.

  “Cool.” Jesse’s voice had a hint of sarcasm to it, but I ignored it.

  Just a couple of minutes before, he’d seemed like a decent dude, but because I wasn’t gung-ho over being a part of their club, he was quickly becoming an asshole.

  “Victory party at Glow. My treat.” Jesse bumped knuckles with Steele and left us alone, taking his entourage with him.

  “He’s cool. Just likes to show off sometimes,” Steele said, taking in my reaction to his friend.

  “I bet,” I said dryly. My favorite.

  He shook his head, as the trainer walked in to wrap his hands. I sat quietly, allowing Steele to gather his thoughts, and worked through whatever nerves he’d been feeling prior. He hadn’t exactly been nervous, but he wasn’t his hunky-dory self either. He’d never shown any signs of weakness during our sparring sessions, and I’d never so much as seen him take an ice bath due to soreness. Hell, at his gym, he always seemed perfectly in control of every situation. I wondered if he’d prepared mentally, like he always told me to do.

  I wanted to mention it to him, but figured saying something would let him know I noticed something was off, which had the potential of making matters worse. So, I kept my mouth shut. He was the professional. I knew he’d pull through.

  I left just before it was time for him to enter the cage. I walked the long tunnel alone, taking in my surroundings as I tried to clear my mind of everything not involving his fight. Entering the arena, I took my place just to the right of the cage and his corner. As the lights dimmed, and Steele entered, the crowd lurched to their feet, cheering over the music blaring through the speakers. His coach, who’d been with him from the beginning, talked him up, giving him direction just before Mackle entered. I watched intently, hoping like hell he’d been able to get his mind straight.

  Once the signal had been given by the referee, Mackle went at Steele full-force, throwing three punches in the first two minutes that should have knocked him out. Steele stumbled after the last one, but luckily, it was time to meet at the corners.

  “He’s fast. He’s handing out strikes like it’s Halloween candy,” his trainer said as he wiped Steele’s face.

  “I got it. It took me a minute to decipher his technique.”

  “Then stop taking them, dumbass. Cover yourself. You’re going to get knocked out before you even get a chance to take him to the ground.”

  I hadn’t ever been so worked up over a fight. Not even one of my own. Watching my buddy struggle didn’t sit well with me. I wanted to go fight for him. He was sluggish, and his feet were heavy. Mackle was quick, and he was striking twice as much as Steele. Granted, he could have tired out faster, but taking punches, one right after the other, would affect anyone—Steele was no exception.

  There were times where I thought Steele was going to lose, and I wasn’t the only person. The tension in his corner was so thick, you could have cut it with a knife. Add in the crowd, and it was almost too much to bear. Every punch he took, every kick of Mackle’s that made contact, pissed me off.

  Finally, in round three, Steele swept Mackle’s legs out from under him in a takedown. Relief rushed through my body, knowing that he had him. Mackle’s eyes bulged out, his face blood-red, as Steele squeezed tighter. Just before Mackle lost consciousness, he tapped.

  Afterward, it had taken Steele a full thirty minutes to sign autographs at the back door, before we were finally on our way to the victory party Jamison was throwing. Honestly, I wasn’t quite up for the party scene, but after the effort my best friend had just put down, we had to celebrate somehow. Not to mention, the pay day he’d received. I would have felt like a complete jackass not acknowledging his win.

  “Welcome! Welcome, boys. Make yourselves comfortable. The ladies will be here in a moment.” A middle-aged, balding man in a black suit led us to our table.

  “Ladies?” I asked. I wasn’t a pussy by any means, but pissing my girlfriend off over a couple of cage bunnies wasn’t something I was trying to do.

  “I got us some strippers!” Jamison put his fist
in the air.

  “Damn.” I grimaced, knowing ahead of time it wasn’t a good idea.

  “I don’t give a fuck who shows up,” Steele said. “I’m getting drunk. I’m getting laid. And I don’t want to remember either of those things when I wake up tomorrow.”

  I couldn’t be the downer of the group, so I let it ride. I’d just keep to myself, like I usually did, and all would be well…

  “Payne!”

  Fuck. I would’ve recognized that voice anywhere. Simone. And from the looks of it, she was already lit. The straps on her dress were falling down her arms, and her hair was a stringy mess. The last thing I wanted to deal with was an intoxicated Simone. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of her showing up. She was a cage bunny; a popular one at that. Of course she’d show for a live event, so she could party afterward.

  I looked up, just as she planted her ass on my lap. Getting ready to push her off, somebody bumped into me from the side, and almost knocked two dancers to the floor. Flashes from the side caught my attention. I hated cellphones. I hated social media. And I didn’t care for paparazzi either. Not that I’d considered it much before tonight…

  Las Vegas was different than home. I guess I hadn’t expected the crowd to be so large.

  Steele was chill about it though. He’d been in the game for over ten years. He knew the ins and outs, and could separate the real from the bullshit. He was level-headed and outgoing, and had a head for the public part of the business. To top it all off, he didn’t have to run from a past he was ashamed of.

  Once I found my footing, I jumped up. All I could think about was which photos would end up where. It had only been a matter of seconds, but I was smart enough to know a picture spoke a thousand words.

  “What’s your problem, Con?” Simone slurred.

  “Don’t call me that.” Hearing that nickname grossed me out.

  “Oh, I see. You got in the journalist’s pants and now you’re too good for me?” She was smiling, knowing she had my attention at the mention of Willow.