by Lori Foster
She dragged out a case of cola. Gage shook off his surprise and took it from her, and together they headed back out.
A half hour later they had everything set up. The colas were in the cooler under ice, sandwiches had been cut and laid out. A variety of chips filled one entire table. More people arrived. The boys, ranging in ages from fifteen to eighteen, were hyped up, talking loudly and gobbling down the food in record time. The women spent their time sidling up to the guys.
The guys spent their time enjoying it.
“Is there more food in the back room?”
Harper smiled at Stack Hannigan, one of the few fighters who hadn’t yet staked out a woman. “Yeah, but I can get it as soon as I finish tidying up here.” Every ten minutes she needed to reorganize the food. Once the fights started, things would settle down, but until then it was pure chaos.
Stack tugged on a lock of her hair. “No worries, doll. Be right back.” And off he went.
Harper watched him walk away, as always enjoying the show. Long-legged with a rangy stride, Stack looked impressive whether he was coming or going—as all of them did.
In some ways, the guys were all different.
Stack’s blond hair was darker and straighter than Armie’s. Denver’s brown hair was so long he often contained it in a ponytail. Cannon’s was pitch-black with a little curl on the ends.
She preferred Gage’s trimmed brown hair, and she absolutely loved his golden-brown eyes.
All of the fighters were good-looking. Solid, muscular, capable. But where Stack, Armie and Cannon were light heavyweights, her Gage was a big boy, a shredded heavyweight with fists the size of hams. They were all friends, but with different fighting styles and different levels of expertise.
When Stack returned with another platter of food, he had two high school wrestlers beside him, talking a mile a minute. She loved seeing how the older boys emulated the fighters, learning discipline, self-control and confidence.
With the younger kids, it sometimes broke her heart to see how desperate they were for attention. And then when one or more of the guys made a kid feel special, her heart expanded so much it choked her.
“You’re not on your period, are you?” Armie asked from beside her.
Using the back of her hand to quickly dash away a tear, Harper asked him, “What are you talking about?”
“You’re all fired up one minute, hot and bothered the next, now standing here glassy-eyed.” Leaning down to better see her, he searched her face and scowled. “What the hell, woman? Are you crying?”
She slugged him in the shoulder—which meant she hurt her hand more than she hurt him. Softly, because it wasn’t a teasing subject, she said, “I was thinking how nice this is for the younger boys.”
“Yeah.” He tugged at his ear and his smile went crooked. “Makes me weepy sometimes, too.”
Harper laughed at that. “You are so full of it.”
He grinned with her, then leveled her by saying, “How come you’re letting those other gals climb all over Gage?”
She jerked around so fast she threw herself off balance. Trapped by the reception desk, Gage stood there while two women fawned over him. Harper felt mean. More than mean. “What is he doing now?”
“Greeting people, that’s all. Not that the ladies aren’t giving it the old college try.” He leaned closer, his voice low. “I approve of your methods, by the way.”
“Meaning what?”
“Guys have to man up and all that. Be tough. But I know he’d rather be in the arena than here with us.”
Than here—with her. She sighed.
Armie tweaked her chin. “Don’t be like that.”
“Like what?”
“All ‘poor little me, I’m not a priority.’ You’re smarter than that, Harper. You know he’s worked years for this.”
She did know it, and that’s why it hurt so much. If it wasn’t so important to him, she might stand a chance.
“Oh, gawd,” Armie drawled, managing to look both disgusted and mocking. “You’re deeper down in the dumps than he is.” He tipped up her chin. “You know, it took a hell of a lot of discipline for him to walk away from everyone, including you, so he could train with another camp.”
She gave him a droll look rife with skepticism.
Armie wasn’t finished. “It’s not like he said goodbye to you and then indulged any other women. Nope. It was celibacy all the way.”
“That’s a myth.” She knew because she’d looked it up. “Guys do not have to do without in order to compete.”
“Without sex, no. Without distractions, yeah. And you, Harper Gates, are one hell of a distraction.”
Was she? She just couldn’t tell.
Armie leaned in closer, keeping his voice low. “The thing is, if you were serving it up regular-like, it’d probably be okay.”
She shoved him. “Armie!” Her face went hot. Did everyone know her damn business? Had Gage talked? Complained?
Holding up his hands in surrender, Armie said, “It’s true. Sex, especially good sex with someone important, works wonders for clearing the mind of turmoil. But when the lady is holding out—”
She locked her jaw. “Just where did you get this info?”
That made him laugh. “No one told me, if that’s what you’re thinking. Anyone with eyes can see that you two haven’t sealed the deal yet.”
Curious, eyes narrowed in skepticism, she asked, “How?”
“For one thing, the way Gage looks at you, like he’s waiting to unwrap a special present.”
More heat surfaced, coloring not only her face, but her throat and chest, too.
“Anyway,” Armie said, after taking in her blush with a brow raised in interest, “you want to wait, he cares enough not to push, so he did without. It’s admirable, not a reason to drag around like your puppy died or something. Not every guy has that much heart.” He held out his arms. “Why do you think I only do local fighting?”
“You have the heart,” Harper defended. But she added, “I have no idea what motivates you, I just know it must be something big.”
Pleased by her reasoning, he admitted, “You could be right.” Before she could jump on that, he continued. “My point is that Gage is a fighter all the way. He’ll be a champion one day. That means he has to make certain sacrifices, some at really inconvenient times.”
Oddly enough, she felt better about things, and decided to tease him back a little. “So I was a sacrifice?”
“Giving up sex is always a sacrifice.” He slung an arm around her shoulders and hauled her into his side. “Especially the sex you haven’t had yet.”
“Armie!” She enjoyed his insights, but he was so cavalier about it, so bold, she couldn’t help but continue blushing.
“Now, Harper, you know…” Suddenly Armie went quiet. “Damn, for such a calm bastard, he has the deadliest stare.”
Harper looked up to find Gage scrutinizing them. And he did look rather hot under the collar. Even as the two attractive women did their best to regain his attention, Gage stayed focused on her.
She tried smiling at him. He just transferred his piercing gaze to Armie.
“You could go save him from them,” Harper suggested.
“Sorry, honey, not my type.”
“What?” she asked, as if she didn’t already know. “The lack of a Mohawk bothers you?”
He laughed, surprised her with a loud kiss right on her mouth and a firm swat on her butt, then he sauntered away.
CHAPTER THREE
GAGE LOOKED READY to self-combust, so Harper headed over to him. He tracked her progress, and even when she reached him, he still looked far too intent and serious.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey, yourself.”
She eyed the other ladies. “See those guys over there?” She pointed to where Denver and Stack loitered by the food, stuffing their faces. “They’re shy, but they’re really hoping you’ll come by to say hi.”
It didn’t take mu
ch more than that for the women to depart.
Gage reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Now why didn’t I think of that?”
“Maybe you were enjoying the admiration a little too much.”
“No.” He touched her cheek, trailed his fingertips down to her chin. “You and Armie had your heads together long enough. Care to share what you two talked about?”
She shrugged. “You.”
“Huh.” His hand curved around her nape, pulling her in. “That’s why he kissed you and played patty-cake with your ass?”
She couldn’t be this close to him without touching. Her hands opened on his chest, smoothing over the prominent muscles. What his chest did for a T-shirt should be illegal. “Now, Gage, I know you’re not jealous.”
His other hand covered hers, flattening her palm over his heart. “Do I have reason to be?”
“Over Armie?” She gave a very unladylike snort. “Get real.”
He continued to study her.
Sighing, she said, “If you want to know–”
“I do.”
Why not tell him? she thought. It’d be interesting to see his reaction. “Actually, it’s kind of funny. See, Armie was encouraging me to have sex with you.”
Gage’s expression went still, first with a hint of surprise, then with the heat of annoyance. “What the hell does it have to do with him?”
No way could she admit that Armie thought they were both sad sacks. “Nothing. You know Armie.”
“Yeah.” He scowled darker. “I know him.”
Laughing, she rolled her eyes. “He’s lacking discretion, says whatever he thinks, and enjoys butting in.” She snuggled in closer to him, leaning on him. Loving him. “He wants you happy.”
“I’m happy, damn it.”
She didn’t bother telling him how unhappy he sounded just then. “And he wants me happy.”
Smoothing a hand down her back, pressing her closer still, he asked, “Sex will make you happy?”
Instead of saying, “I love you so much, sex with you would make me ecstatic,” she quipped, “It’d sure be better than a stinging butt, which is all Armie offered.”
“Want me to kiss it and make it better?”
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
With a small smile of satisfaction, Gage palmed her cheek, gently caressing. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
She gave a short nod.
He used his hand on her butt to snug her in closer. “Armie kissed you, too.”
Making a face, she told him, “Believe me, the swat was far more memorable.”
“Good thing for Armie.”
So he was jealous?
“Hey,” Stack called over to them. “We’re ready to get things started. Kill the overhead lights, will you?”
Still looking down at her, Gage slowly nodded. “Sure thing.” Taking Harper with him, he went to the front desk and retrieved the barrel key for the locking switches.
The big TV, along with a security lamp in the hallway, would provide all the light they needed. When Gage inserted the key and turned it, the overhead florescent lights clicked off. Given that they stood well away from the others, heavy shadows enveloped them.
Rather than head over to the crowd, Gage aligned her body with his in a tantalizing way. His hand returned to her bottom, ensuring she stayed pressed to him. “Maybe,” he whispered, “I can be more memorable.”
As he moved his hand lower on her behind—his long fingers seeking inward—she went on tiptoe and squeaked, “Definitely.”
Smiling, he took her mouth in a consuming kiss. Combined with the way those talented fingers did such incredible things to her, rational thought proved impossible.
Finally, easing up with smaller kisses and teasing nibbles, he whispered, “We can’t do this here.”
Her fingers curled in against him, barely making a dent in his rock-solid muscles. “I know,” she groaned.
He stroked restless hands up and down her back. “Want to grab a seat with me?”
He asked the question almost as if a big or hung at the end. Like…Or should we just leave? Or should we find an empty room?
Or would you prefer to go anywhere private so we can both get naked and finish what we started?
She waited, hopeful, but when he said nothing more, she blew out a disappointed breath. “Sure.”
And of course she felt like a jerk.
He and Cannon were close friends. Everyone knew he wanted to watch the fights. Despite his own disappointment over medical ineligibility, he was excited for Cannon’s competition.
Her eyes were adjusting and she could see Gage better now, the way he searched her face, how he…waited.
For her to understand? Was Armie right? Maybe more than anything she needed to show him that she not only loved him, but she loved his sport, that she supported him and was as excited by his success as he was.
“Yes, let’s sit.” She took his hand. “Toward the back, though, so we can sneak away later if we decide to.” Eyes flaring at that naughty promise, he didn’t budge.
“Sneak away to where?”
“The way I feel right now, any empty room might do.” Hiding her smile, Harper stretched up to give him a very simple kiss. “That is, between fights. We don’t want to miss anything.”
His hand tightened on hers, and she couldn’t help thinking that maybe Armie’s suggestion had merit after all.
*
GAGE GOT SO caught up in the pre-fights that he almost—almost—forgot about Harper’s endless foreplay. Damn, she had him primed. Her closeness, the warmth of her body, the sweet scent of her hair and the warmer scent of her skin, were enough to make him edgy with need. But every so often her hand drifted to his thigh, lingered, stroked. Each time he held his breath, unsure how far she’d go.
How far he wanted her to go.
So far, all he knew was that it wasn’t far enough.
Once, she’d run her hand up his back, just sort of feeling him, her fingers spread as she traced muscles, his shoulder blades, down his spine…
If he gave his dick permission, it would stand at attention right now. But he concentrated on keeping control of things—himself and, when possible, Harper, too.
It wasn’t easy. Though she appeared to be as into the fights as everyone else, she still had very busy hands.
It wasn’t just the sexual teasing that got to him. It was emotional, too. He hated that he wasn’t in Japan with Cannon, walking to the cage for his own big battle. He’d had prelim fights; he’d built his name and recognition.
He’d finally gotten that main event—and it pissed him off more than he wanted to admit that he was left sitting behind.
But sitting behind with Harper sure made it easier. Especially when he seemed so attuned to her.
If her mood shifted, he freaking felt it, deep down inside himself. At one point she hugged his arm, her head on his shoulder, and something about the embrace had felt so damn melancholy that he’d wanted to lift her into his lap and hold her close and make some heavy-duty spur-of-the-moment promises.
Holding her wouldn’t have been a big deal; Miles had a chick in his lap. Denver, too.
With Harper, though, it’d be different. Everyone knew a hookup when they saw one, and no way did Gage want others to see her that way. Harper was like family at the rec center. She was part of the inner circle. He would never do anything to belittle her importance.
Beyond that, he wanted more than a hookup. He cared about her well beyond getting laid a single time, well beyond any mere friendship.
Still, as soon as possible, he planned to get her alone and, God willing, get her under him.
Or over him.
However she liked it, as long as he got her. Not just for tonight, but for a whole lot more.
Everyone grimaced when the last prelim fight ended with a grappling match—that turned into an arm bar. The dominant fighter trapped the arm, extended it to the breaking point while the other guy t
ried everything he could to free himself.
Squeezed up close to his side, peeking through her fingers, Harper pleaded, “Tap, tap, tap,” all but begging his opponent to admit defeat before he suffered more damage. And when he did, she cheered with everyone else. “Good fight. Wow. That was intense.”
It was so cute how involved she got while watching, that Gage had to tip up her chin so he could kiss her.
Her enthusiasm for the fight waned as she melted against him, saying, “Mmm…”
He smiled against her mouth. “You’re making me a little nuts.”
“Looks who’s talking.” She glanced around with exaggerated drama. “If only we were alone.”
Hoping she meant it, he used his thumb to brush her bottom lip. “We can be.” His place. Her place. Either worked for him. “It’ll be late when the fights end, but—”
“I really have to wait that long?”
Yep, she meant it. Her blue eyes were heavy, her face flushed. She breathed deeper. He glanced down at her breasts and saw her nipples were tight against the material of her T-shirt.
Okay, much more of that and he wouldn’t be able to keep it under wraps.
A roar sounded around them and they both looked up to see Cannon on the screen. Gage couldn’t help but grin. Yeah, he wanted to be there, too, but at the same time, he was so damn proud of Cannon.
In such a short time, Cannon had become one of the most beloved fighters in the sport. The fans adored him. His peers respected him. And the Powers That Be saw him as a big draw moneymaker. After he won tonight, Gage predicted that Cannon would be fighting for the belt.
He’d win it, too.
They showed footage of Cannon before the fight, his knit hat pulled low on his head, bundled under a big sweatshirt. Keeping his muscles warm.
He looked as calm and determined as ever while answering questions.
Harper squeezed his hand and when she spoke, Gage realized it was with nervousness.
“He’ll do okay.”
Touched by her concern, he smiled. “I’d put money on it.”
She nodded, but didn’t look away from the screen. “He’s been something of a phenomenon, hasn’t he?”
“With Cannon, making an impact comes naturally.”