Kieran held out my robe, and I stopped bouncing just long enough to slip it on. Danny opened the door and cringed as my music pumped loudly through the speakers. Fort Minor’s “Remember the Name” didn’t do it for him at all, but Kieran had picked it years ago, and it sort of stuck. The bass was making my blood pump and I strutted out of the room like I was invincible.
“You ready?” Kieran asked.
“Hell, yeah,” I replied. I burned with the need to hurt someone, and the thought of releasing all that rage on Rico Temple got my blood pumping.
“I hate that cocky little shit as much as you do,” Kieran admitted. “But fight smart. Don’t just go barreling in there trying to hurt him. He’s got a lot more fights under his belt than you do, so you need to think about how you’re gonna do this,” he told me. I rolled my eyes, not really caring about his advice. Making him bleed was all I could think about. Danny reached up to grab my chin and turned my face so that I was staring straight at him. It took some effort given our height difference.
He looked more pissed off than I’d seen him in a long time. “I’m your coach, and Kieran’s your corner man. That means you listen to what we have to say. If you don’t fight smart like Kieran said, this guy’s gonna walk all over you. Now I want you to fight the first three rounds defensively. Keep your guard up and wear him down. Round four or five, when he’s up on points, you let him have it. Then take him by surprise when he thinks you’re done.” I nodded my head as I bounced. I knew he was right but I struggled with the craving to hurt someone. “And for fuck’s sake, don’t knock him out. This is an exhibition match. Anything more than heavy sparring and you’ll be disqualified.”
“Sure thing,” I answered as I shifted my weight from foot to foot. Then it was time. At the sign from the management guy, I jogged slowly toward the spotlight.
As I reached the ring, I climbed in through the ropes, with Kieran and Danny right behind me. Kieran helped me off with my robe, and I looked past him, anxious for Temple to join me.
Even standing in this ring was cathartic. In a few minutes, I’d be able to unleash all my hatred in the name of sportsmanship, and what’s left of me after belonged to my girl. My music ended as his began, and I snorted. He’d chosen some stupid rap shit and was strutting toward me like he had the fight sewn up. He hadn’t fought with me yet. I was gonna knock the cocky right out of him, and he’d kiss the canvas in gratitude for the lesson. I bounced around shaking out my arms and looking like I hadn’t got a care in the world. Rico Temple was nothing to me. I had enough inside to take down ten of him with how I was feeling. Danny smacked my abs to draw my attention and shoved my gum shield into my mouth.
“Stick to the plan, keep your guard up and pick your punches. You ready?” he asked. I nodded at him but my mind was already on Temple. Squeezing my shoulder reassuringly, he climbed out of the ring. The referee called us to the center, and the self-assured smirk on Rico’s face was already pissing me off.
“Gentleman, when I say ‘break’ I want a clean break. In the event of a knockdown, you will be directed to go to a neutral corner. You’re both professionals so I expect a good, clean fight. No hitting below the belt, and protect yourself at all times. Okay, touch gloves and come out at the bell.”
I held my gloves out, staring Temple in the eye as I willed him to know that I was gonna end him. He ignored the gesture and saluted me mockingly. The crowd was already booing at the bad sportsmanship. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t feeling very fucking sporting anyway. I tried to keep my expression neutral and remember what Danny told me about the game plan. Then the bell rang out, and it all went out of the window. Every bit of training I’d ever had, all the advice I’d ever been given, every ounce of common sense I’d been born with and it was all gone at the bell. With the sound ringing in my ears, Temple became Frank, and I threw myself at him. He didn’t expect me to come out so aggressively, and I landed two crippling body shots and a right hook to the head before he got his guard up. I wasn’t pacing myself or holding anything back for the rest of the fight. All the power I had went into every punch as my stress melted away. I managed to herd him into a corner and was going at his ribs as hard as I did the bags at the gym. Em was the most fucking precious thing in the world to me, and I imagined this was the fucker who nearly broke her. He spent most of his life tearing her down and beating her, and when I swore she’d never feel that way again, he took her from under my nose. Not this time. This time I was gonna end him in the ring and he’d never get to her again.
The referee pulled me back, and Temple shook it off. A few minutes ago, he looked cocky. Now he looked mad. “Tone it down. This is supposed to be an exhibition match,” the referee warned me.
It was all the time Temple needed to recover. As soon as the referee moved away, he smacked me in the cheek with a killer left jab, throwing my head back and nearly dislodging my gum shield. Without pause, he served back to me exactly what I’d just delivered. I couldn’t stop him, but I didn’t really feel much pain either.
Pushing him back in the corner, I started going at him again until I was almost windmilling. My adrenaline level must have been through the roof because I felt like I could pound on him all night. In my peripheral vision, I saw the referee moving toward me on my right, and I knew he was going to warn me again when a left uppercut came out of nowhere and had me seeing stars. The referee stood between us giving me a moment to recover, and any warning died on his lips. We were both breaking the rules and spirit of an exhibition bout, but the referee had no fucking clue what to do. He couldn’t disqualify us both, and the crowd was fucking loving it. He threw his arms down to signal that we could fight but both of us were a little bit wary this time. In that moment, I literally wanted to end the arsehole. As we squared off against each other, I dived at him again, no longer caring that I didn’t have an opening. He fended off all my body shots, and I wasn’t holding back. The more he held his guard, the angrier I became. When the bell sounded to signal the end of the round, I could have roared in frustration. Kieran put my stool down in the corner, and I sat down. Hard. Leaning forward, I was dying to get back out there, and I willed the sixty seconds to go by quickly. Kieran shot water into my mouth, while Danny laid into me.
“Are you deaf or feckin’ stupid, Cormac O’Connell?” he asked. “’Cause I distinctively remember telling you how to fight this match. You don’t look like a professional boxer out there. You look like an arrogant kid who’s about to have his arse handed to him.” I didn’t answer back but it’s not like Danny would’ve given me a chance anyway. He was on a roll. “You listen to me if you want to save this fight. Now he knows what you’re made of but he has to be betting that you’ve worn yourself out. So you go back to the original game plan. Protect yourself and let him think you’re spent, then let him have it.” I nodded at him but I couldn’t concentrate, and I was already looking for Temple behind him. Danny looked at Kieran and shook his head, like they were having some kind of silent conversation. I didn’t give a fuck what they were both bitching about. Whether I did it Danny’s way or my way, I had this in the bag.
The bell rang, and I stood up to fight. I was watching Temple’s shoulders, trying to read his next move when he came at me. His hook-hook-jab combination was predictable. The left hook that caught me square in the eye wasn’t. I stumbled about a bit on my feet, dazed but not knocked out, but it was enough for the referee to give me a standing count. As I waited impatiently for the count to be over, I could see the judges scribbling furiously. That hook had cost me, but Temple was going to pay for it. Charging at him the minute I had the go-ahead, I unleashed a volley of body shots. Most of them were blocked, but the ones that did get through must have been rib bruisers. Thinking that I had him trapped on the ropes, I was stunned when he jerked up and reversed our position. Every single one of his hits, even the ones I blocked, hurt like hell. I’d been motherfucking rope-a-doped. Like Ali had done with Forman, he used my anger to provoke me into attacking. The r
opes were taking the strain of my ineffectual hits while my energy level plummeted. The referee pulled him off with a warning when he cut above my eye. We danced around each other for a few more seconds, but when the bell rang again, we both sat down looking like we’d done ten rounds, not two. Going against the norm, it was Kieran who gave me the pep talk, while Danny sorted out my cut. For the whole sixty seconds, Danny didn’t say a fucking word. He simply squeezed my shoulder as a silent gesture of support as he climbed out of the ring. The next ten rounds were absolutely brutal. We both punished each other, and the whole thing was more like a street brawl than a professional boxing match. The only reason the ref never called it was because we were both as bad as each other. When the bell rang out for the final time, I was banged up and exhausted. The cut had reopened, and the blood was streaming down my face. Both Kieran and Danny were uncharacteristically silent as they patched me up. After a few minutes, the ref called us back in the ring. I looked for Em in the crowd as he called out how the judges had scored the fight. I wasn’t really listening until he finished. “Ladies and gentleman, your winner by unanimous decision. Rico Temple.” He raised Temple’s arm in the air as I locked eyes with my wife. She looked sad, and I guess she thought I’d be worried about the loss. I wasn’t. In my head, I’d just gone twelve rounds against Frank. All I felt was relief and the burning need to do it all over again.
Chapter 2
I woke up on a knife edge of pain and pleasure. After the boys had all but carried me home last night, I sat in an ice bath, which was almost as bad as the fighting, then collapsed on the bed with my girl in my arms. On the one hand, my sore, achy body felt like it had been hit by a bus. On the other, the love of my life was asleep on my chest. Did she look perfect first thing in the morning? Hell no. My wife had naturally curly blond hair, meaning that she got bed hair like you wouldn’t believe. She was a light sleeper, no doubt a consequence of always worrying about Frank finding her, and sometimes she drooled in her sleep.
Was she perfect? No, but she was perfect for me. Waking up to feel her warm body safe and curled into mine was like a little piece of heaven and lying here with her in my arms gave me peace. The sun streamed through the window where we’d forgotten to close the curtains, lighting up her hair like a halo. ’Course she chose that moment to snore and wake herself up, which made me chuckle. I loved the way she gave my chest a loving rub as she checked for drool.
“Mornin’, Mrs. O’Connell,” I told her, tilting my head up to capture her bottom lip between mine.
“You’re very chirpy for someone who just got their arse handed to them,” she teased.
“I let him win,” I replied.
“Is that right?” She questioned me with one eyebrow raised.
“Sure. With a face that ugly, someone had to throw him a bone,” I told her with a smile.
“I knew you were all heart.” Any reply died on my lips as she raised herself up on all fours and kissed me. I moaned into her mouth as she brushed past my thickening cock. She’d slept in one of my T-shirts which swamped her so much that she looked like she was sleeping in a tent. Reaching behind her, I grabbed the back of it and tried to pull it over her head. I was so smooth that I ended up tangling her arms and hair in it so, by the time it was off, she’d collapsed on the bed in fits of laughter.
“Do you know what it does to my hard-on when you laugh while we’re making love?”
“What?” she asked curiously.
“Absolutely nothing. Now get your sexy arse over here and kiss my war wounds,” I replied, hauling her to me.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” she asked. I didn’t bother answering. It wasn’t even a real question anyway. I stroked my way gently down her naked spine, knowing how much it turned her on. The skin on her back was so soft that my big callused hands must have felt like sandpaper. If her low moan was anything to go by though, I was doing okay. My face was killing me, and there was only one muscle left that didn’t hurt, but none of that mattered with Em’s body this close to mine. When her tits brushed up against my chest, I slid my hands inside her panties to cup the globes of her arse. She squirmed as she rubbed herself up against my cock. I wanted to flip her onto her back and suck on her until she was screaming my name but given that I could barely lift my own arm, I satisfied myself by sliding my hand around to her front and slipping a couple of fingers deep inside her. Watching her ride them, her head thrown back in ecstasy, was one of the most erotic things I’d ever seen. If I wasn’t careful, I was gonna shoot my load before I even got my boxers off. With my free hand, I reached out to cup her breast and maneuvered her nipple into my mouth. Twisting my tongue around that firm, moist nub made her ride me harder. When I nipped her slightly then salved the bite with my tongue, it tipped her over the edge. Intensifying her orgasm, I rubbed gently over her clit until she literally couldn’t take any more pleasure and collapsed hard against my chest, making me moan in pain.
“Shit! Sorry baby,” she apologized, climbing quickly off me.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine,” I reassured her.
“Are you sure there isn’t anything you’d like me to kiss better?” she asked me, provocatively.
I fucking loved seeing Em like this. Alone with me, she was sassy and confident and sexy as fuck. She only had to pretty much walk past me and I got a hard-on. Watching her tease me in just a tiny pair of panties and not trying to hide or cover herself up had my cock hard as a diamond and my blood pumping. Leaning down to kiss her way across my chest, her thigh pressed against my cock, and I had to fist the sheets to stop myself from flipping her under me and sinking deep inside her. By the time she’d shown appreciation to every one of my abs, I was on fire. She gently lifted the elastic of my boxers and pulled them down, so I lifted my arse off the bed to help. Seconds later, her lips were wrapped around my cock, and I groaned. Loudly.
“I fucking love you, Mrs. O’Connell,” I told her as she took me deeper into her mouth. I was seconds away from coming when someone started pounding on the door. Em paused. “Ignore it,” I told her, and she carried on.
“Con. Quit fucking Em and open up. You two have been going at it for ages,” Tommy shouted as pounding started again. Angry whispered voices argued with him, and I could hear a scuffle, so the boys must have been trying to rein him in.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him,” I told Em as she started giggling.
“Sorry, love. I’ll make it up to you later,” Em promised me.
Of course that didn’t help me while I was lying here too stiff and achy to move with my cock stood up like a tent peg. Em kissed me passionately, which took the edge off my bad mood over the interruption, then jumped up to let the boys in. Pulling on some shorts, her bra, and my T-shirt, she still looked far too gorgeous to be answering the door to those horny maniacs. At least it was my T-shirt she wore. I fucking loved seeing her in my training clothes. I sighed loudly as I tried to think about washing machines, Father Pat, having a medicine ball dropped on me, literally anything I could to stop my cock standing to attention. Hearing Em’s laughter, I knew Tommy was hitting on my girl, which was all the push I needed to get my arse out of bed. Every bone in my body hurt, and I swear some of them even creaked as I sat up. Five years ago, I would have jumped out of bed after a fight, even with a hangover, and run five miles easy. Now I could barely sit up. These days, I was fighting world-class boxers and my body knew the difference. I pulled on clean underwear and my favorite worn jeans, buttoning them as I went. The guys were slouched in the few chairs around the flat. As I suspected Tommy leaned against the counter next to Em with his arms crossed over his tightly fitted T-shirt as she made them all bacon sandwiches.
“Take your eyes off my wife’s arse, boyo,” I warned Tommy.
“Geez. You’re so fucking possessive,” he answered me back. “You’re married now, Con, and I totally respect that.” Everyone stopped and stared at him, not quite believing what they were hearing. “Besides, if I was going to check o
ut anything, it would totally be your tits. You have an absolutely banging rack, Em,” he whispered conspiratorially to my wife.
“That’s it,” I shouted and, pain forgotten, dived across the tiny sofa to smack him. Liam and Kieran intercepted, talking me down before I got anywhere near him. The gutless fucker dived behind Em, who was laughing her arse off.
“Seriously, Tommy,” she wheezed between breaths, “do you have a death wish or something?”
“He knows how much I respect you. I don’t know why he keeps getting his knickers in a knot all the time.” Tommy whined like he had no idea what my problem was. My problem was that Em treated him like a little brother she needed to protect when she actually needed to let me teach that little fucker a lesson. After sorting everyone out with their breakfast, she sat down in my lap when the boys finally let me up. I gave Tommy the stink eye, which he completely ignored, but any remaining rage faded away when my gorgeous wife wrapped her arms around my neck, bringing me close enough to smell the slight vanilla scent of her skin. Em loved the smell of vanilla. Candles, body wash, shampoo were always the same. For me, if sunshine had a smell, it would be vanilla.
“Em, don’t suppose you’ve been baking lately?” Liam asked hopefully, breaking the tension.
“Red tin on the countertop,” Em answered with a grin.
“Don’t eat them all, you greedy bastard,” I warned him. Danny banned me from all of Em’s cakes during training, and I knew Sunshine had baked those ready for me to eat as soon as the Temple fight was done. Liam opened the tin, and the guys dived into it like it was filled with the phone numbers of Victoria’s Secret models. Rescuing a lone chocolate chip muffin, Em fed it to me so that I didn’t need to let go of her. She smiled as our collective groans explained how fucking delicious they were.
The Aftermath Page 2