Jesus, what’s wrong with me? The girl can wear whatever clothes she wants.
We wander over to the main boxing ring, where Ethan is working with Lawrence, one of the trainers. Ethan’s footwork is solid as Lawrence punches back at him, ducking to the right to avoid the blow. Lawrence calls out a sequence of moves which he follows to the letter, sweat pouring off him.
Mia pauses at the edge of the ring to watch, along with a group of other guys waiting for their turn with Lawrence. Her eyes are wide following the frenetic pace of blows, no chance for Ethan to rest as the trainer comes back at him with punches to block. It’s building up his endurance, but I know it hurts like a motherfucker in the moment, your body exhausted beyond belief as you fend off an attack.
Unlike me, Ethan’s actually interested in fighting in tournaments, so it’s a necessary skill for him to build.
“Is the order of the punches important?” she whispers as Lawrence reminds Ethan to keep his elbows low when he blocks.
“It’s more about building up muscle memory, so you can do them without even thinking. You lose your wits sometimes when you get knocked in the head one too many times in the ring.”
She gulps.
“Don’t worry,” I tell her, settling my arm over her shoulders. “We’ll practice before we put you in the ring.” She turns to me with eyes like saucers, a panic-stricken look on her face. I laugh and squeeze her in tight to my side. “I’m kidding. Last time was an exception. You’re not going in there again. Not with all these guys waiting their turn.”
“Good. Can I just, um, hit the bag again?”
I nod and steer her over to the extra hand wraps. I’ve wrapped others’ hands countless times, but never felt this sensual awareness before as I wrap the strip of cloth around her knuckles and through each finger until it’s in place. Though it’s the opposite of undressing her, it feels the same, like I’m revealing a part of her as I hold her soft hand in mine. It was the same last time I did it too, a connection I wasn’t expecting, though I make sure not to let anything show on my face.
She clears her throat as I start her other hand. “Are there normally this many guys here?”
“On a Saturday morning, yeah. Same on a weeknight. Only time it’s really clear is the middle of a weekday. But that’s when the serious guys train. The ones that fight for a living.”
“Those are the ones on the wall over there?” She points to the bulletin board near the front full of Marty’s collection of newspaper articles.
“Yep.”
“You’re not on there.”
“I’m not interested in getting concussions.”
“So you don’t fight others? You just do solo training?”
Solo training. I’ve never heard it phrased that way before. That’s exactly what I do, though. “Yeah.”
I finish wrapping her hands and move on to my own, but I’m not quick enough before Erickson makes his way over, his two usual cronies behind him.
“Jenkins, you won’t fight any of us, so you had to bring a girl to trade punches with?”
Mia glances up, her mouth pursing at his snide comment.
“Yep, that’s what I brought her here for,” I tell him casually, focusing on the cloth in my hand.
His eyes narrow when I refuse to fall for his jab. “She doesn’t look like she could lift a toothpick. You like it when they don’t put up much of a fight?”
Mia shrinks at his words, so unlike how she acts with me. Normally, I’d encourage her to defend herself, but not with him.
“That’s how I like it,” I tell him, grabbing gloves and steering her away toward the punching bags. I take her over to the furthest one, maneuvering us behind it so we’re out of his line of sight. “You okay?” I ask, rubbing her arms.
“What’s that guy’s problem?”
“He’s a dick. Gets off on bullying other people.”
She looks at me carefully. “I’m surprised you agreed with him.”
“Best tactic I’ve found is to not give in to whatever he’s taunting you with. If you argue, it only makes it worse. And he’s not worth it. The only way to win against him is to act like you don’t care. It drives him crazy.”
She nods, her eyes still wary as she looks around at the other men boxing, sparring, jumping rope. Everyone’s minding their own business, but I can practically feel her anxiety, her worry that anyone else is liable to come up to us at any moment and harass her.
“Most of the guys here are good people. I’ll be with you the whole time, but we can leave if you want.”
She looks up at me, her expression slowly morphing into one of determination. “No, that would be giving in to what he wants, wouldn’t it?”
I gaze at her, wanting so bad to kiss her right now, to tell her how proud I am of her.
But I don’t, smirking instead. “You’re growing up, Hufflepuff.”
She rolls her eyes and puts the gloves on, but not before smiling back.
“So that was Mia, huh?”
Ethan settles on the other side of the couch and I close my Geology textbook, gratefully welcoming the interruption. It was the only science course I could get to fit in my schedule this semester, and I’ve put off filling that general education requirement for too long now. “I didn’t know you could see anymore after Lawrence paired you in the ring with Adkins.”
He blows out a breath. “Adkins is dumber than a box of rocks, but he knows how to hit.” He gingerly touches the side of his head, as if it still hurts, then leans back further against the cushions. “Is she actually going to take up boxing?”
I smile in remembrance of her at the gym. “No. She just likes hitting the punching bag.”
“Never seen you smile so much.”
My grin immediately drops.
“What’s going on with you two? You’re over at her apartment, taking her to the gym. Bringing home desserts she makes—which are freaking awesome, by the way.”
“Those are mine. I didn’t say you could eat those.”
“Too late.” He looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to answer him. This is the problem with people you let close. They expect things of you.
I sigh. “We’re just friends. And we have the research study to work on.”
“Oh, so that’s what you were doing today? Researching?” he teases.
“Fuck off. I can be friends with her if I want. And you and I do all the same things together too. We study. We go to the gym. I’ll even let you bake me cookies.”
He lets loose an easy laugh. The idea of him baking is genuinely funny. The man has almost burned down our kitchen putting a fork in the microwave by accident. “Mia’s cute,” he comments casually. “If you two are just friends, I might ask her out.”
I open the Geology textbook again, staring blankly down at the page. “You do what you want, man.”
“So you’ll give me her number?”
An itching sensation creeps up the back of my neck, but I resist the urge to scratch at it. “I’m not giving you shit.”
“Will you give her my number?”
I slam shut the book. “Why are you trying to rile me up?”
He holds his hands up, as if I’m the one being unreasonable. “I only want a date.”
“Bullshit. You could get any girl on campus. Why are you trying to poach mine?”
His eyes gleam. Fuck, I fell right into his trap. Didn’t I just get done explaining to Mia not to fall for stuff like this?
Thankfully, he doesn’t jump on my unintentional admission. “Hmm.” He strokes his dark beard thoughtfully. “You really think I could get any girl?”
I snort. “You’re ripped and have a near perfect GPA. What more do girls want?”
“You have the same thing,” he points out.
“I don’t want any girl.”
“No, you just want Mia.”
Fuck, I should have known he wouldn’t let it go that easy. I finally give in and scratch my neck until the pressure’s gone. “We hav
e this kind of… friends-with-benefits thing going on,” I admit.
“As of when?”
“The other day.”
“What happened?”
“None of your business.”
He grins. “That means you must have really liked it if you won’t give me details.”
I huff. “She let me suck her tits and get her off in the Stress Lab.”
His brows rise. “In your sacred space? How was it?”
“It was…” Fucking hot. Combustible. The whimpers she’d made trying to keep herself quiet were enough for me to almost shoot my load then and there. “It was good. Like any other girl I’m with.” I stand and grab my textbook. “I’m going to study in my room. Since someone keeps bothering me.”
“See ya,” he says, giving me a little salute as I leave, a wide grin on his face.
I settle on my bed, trying again to focus on categories of rock-forming minerals, but it’s still the most boring subject on the planet.
I lean back, thinking instead about Mia. I completed my mission today, proving to myself that we could hang out in a normal capacity. I have the willpower to be in control of my actions. And if she wants to touch me, that doesn’t make me weak or dependent on her.
I’m in control.
My phone vibrates with a message.
Mia: Thanks for taking me to the gym again. Want to study for Motivation soon? I’ve got a test in a few days. I’ll make you cupcakes. :)
Speaking of, I haven’t written anything in my journal for my own Motivation class lately. I make plans with her for tomorrow night to study at her apartment, then pull out my notebook, filling in things from the last couple days. And look, Mia makes it easy. I fill in tomorrow’s entry—Studying with a friend to make a good grade and because she’ll bake me cupcakes. Today’s entry is a little harder though—Took a friend boxing because… Why did I take her? I can’t very well say it was to prove to myself that she has no sexual power over me. I erase what I wrote and write instead Went to the gym to clear my head.
That’s still accurate. My head is clear now. I’ll go over and study tomorrow, and if things get heated, I’m ready this time. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just scratching an itch.
An itch named Mia.
Chapter Twelve
Tyler
“You didn’t say I’d have to make the cupcakes.”
I glance around at Mia’s kitchen counters filled with all sorts of canisters and bottles. How am I supposed to know how everything goes together?
“You just have to combine the dry ingredients. The measurements are right there on that paper.” She points to the directions and continues measuring out vanilla extract into a teaspoon. I tried that stuff once straight out of the bottle when Mom was making a birthday cake for my brother. I shudder in remembrance. Never again.
“Yeah, okay.” It’s not rocket science. I can do it.
Flour. Sugar. Baking soda. Salt.
Salt?
“Are you sure it needs salt?”
“Mm-hmm.” She whips everything else together in a bowl with a practiced arm. She’s definitely here in her element in the kitchen.
“So why do you have to use unsalted butter if you’re just going to add the salt back in?”
She turns to me, still stirring, and tilts her head to the side. “I don’t know,” she laughs. “But I need it mixed yesterday, so hurry it up.”
“So bossy.” I grin, picking up a measuring cup to scoop flour into it.
“You like it,” she teases.
The truth is… I actually do. The thought of her bossing me around in the bedroom sends tingles down my spine.
But I’ve never let a girl tell me what to do, and I’m not about to start with her.
“I think you like it more when I’m bossy,” I tell her, setting my bowl of measured ingredients next to her.
Her arm falters in its rhythm for a moment before picking it back up. “No, I don’t.” She dumps half of the flour mixture into her bigger bowl, avoiding my eye. “That first day when we interviewed—”
“I’m not talking about that.” I settle in behind her, placing my hands on her waist, squeezing gently. I don’t say anything else, letting her draw her own conclusion, and she must come to the same one I intended because her breaths pick up, her body instinctively moving back until her ass brushes the front of my jeans.
She jumps away, spilling batter on the counter, and her hands rise in panic. “Oh, God. This is a mess.”
I grab a dish towel off the stove handle and ease her aside. “You finish the cupcakes. I’ll clean up.”
I watch her out of the corner of my eye as I wipe up the spill and place all the dirty dishes in the sink. Her movements become more controlled as the minutes tick by, and when she pops the cupcake tins in the oven, she’s calm again.
She washes her hands, still silent as she dries them, then finally looks up at me. “Sorry I’m a spaz.”
I tuck an escaped curl back behind her ear. “You never have to be sorry.”
She bites her lip, a hint of desire filling her eyes before taking a step closer, whispering, “Kelsey won’t be home for a couple hours.”
“Really?” I close the distance between us, brushing her cheek with my thumb. “Looks like you got some stray sugar here.” I move my thumb till it’s almost touching her mouth. “And here.”
Her eyes lock with mine, lips parting. “What about here?” Her tongue comes out to touch her bottom lip and I lose the will to resist her any longer, bending my head down to take her mouth in a hot kiss.
My hand cradles her jaw, her skin soft against my fingertips. Her natural sweetness combined with the lingering scents of sugar and vanilla in the kitchen has me craving more, exploring her mouth with my tongue.
She brings her hands up to thread her fingers in my hair and I have to admit I love the sensation. The way her nails lightly scratch my scalp, the light pressure she applies. It feels like heaven.
I grab her hips and lift her onto the cleared countertop, stepping in between her legs. She eagerly wraps them around my waist, using her hold on my head to bring me closer, and gives an excited moan.
The sound sends a rush of lust through me. Does she have any idea how sexy she is? My hands slide down to her ass, palming it and squeezing, urging her nearer until our fronts are plastered together. She rubs her chest against mine slowly, the friction just enough to have me panting.
“Bedroom?”
“Yeah.”
I pick her up and she guides me to the last room down the hall. I set her down gently on the fluffy white duvet and take a moment to lean back, looking at her. Her lips are swollen, eyes hungry with lust. Christ, she looks sensual.
I move over her slowly until she’s flat on the bed underneath me and tilt my head to kiss her neck, trailing my lips down to her chest.
She makes a needy sound as I make contact with her breasts over her shirt, her fingers back in my hair, sifting through the strands.
“Let’s see, I’ve kissed you here”—I bring my hand up to her mouth to sweep my thumb over her bottom lip—“and here.” I nuzzle her breast. “I wonder where else I could kiss?”
Her eyes widen as I make my way down her body, pressing a soft kiss to the juncture of her thighs. Her lids close and hips tilt slightly up in pleasure. Yes, that’s just how I want her.
When my fingers unbutton her jeans, though, she stiffens.
“What is it?” I ask, leaning on my elbows.
“It—it’s just…” She swallows, then tries again. “No guy has ever… kissed me there.”
A thrill runs through me at her confession. I’d be the first guy to go down on her? Not that it should matter at all. If anything, it should turn me off. I like girls who have experience. Right?
I push that thought aside. “Do you want me to? Do you want to try it at least?”
She nods. “I do. Can you just… go slow?”
I smirk, trying to diffuse her nervousness. “You k
now you’ll be begging me to go faster at some point.”
“I’m counting on it,” she murmurs.
I swallow. Fuck, this girl gets me going.
I brush my hand lightly over her, teasing, the same as I did in the lab earlier this week. When she’s squirming, I slowly unzip her jeans and urge her out of them, along with the rest of her clothes.
As I shed the last bit of her clothing, I pause to look my fill, her hair a wild array across the pillow, her pale skin like porcelain against the pure white duvet. She’s an erotic angel, all innocent face with sultry, passion-filled eyes.
“Will you undress too?” she asks shyly, sitting up and putting her hands under the hem of my T-shirt. “I don’t want to be the only one naked.”
I hold my arms up for her to strip my shirt off, more than just my clothes coming off as she takes off my jeans and boxers next, her eyes hot on me. It’s like she’s exposing me, baring something private that I didn’t expect. And don’t like.
I shake off the feeling, covering her body, gaining control again and give her a long, deep kiss. Her lips yield to mine, submissive to me. Ready for what’s next.
“Let me lick you,” I whisper in her ear, and move my hand directly over her core, “right here.” I delve my middle finger into her and the slow groan she lets out coupled with her wetness lets me know she’s prepared.
“Yes,” she breathes. “Yes.”
I kiss my way south until I’m exactly where I want to be, parting her folds, and use the flat of my tongue to lick her slowly.
She makes a strangled sound, pushing her hips up, and I move my hands over her hip bones to hold her in place as I continue to tease her, going slow like she asked.
Her body says she wants otherwise, but I spend minutes building her up until she’s panting, thighs shaking, and that’s when I use the tip of my tongue to circle her clit.
“Tyler!” she screams, her back arching off the bed.
“Mmm.” I pause. “I said I’d have you screaming my name.”
“You did,” she replies, voice filled with reverence. “I’m so close already.”
Under Pressure (Lessons Learned Book 1) Page 10