Fighting Back (Fighting For Love Book 5)

by James, Marysol

  She’d lost her Dad young and she still missed him desperately, so she didn’t expect to ever ‘get over’ Rita’s death – whatever the hell that was even supposed to mean. Maggie knew that some things you learned to live with, as opposed to fully moving past; some absences were holes that you simply learned to live around, as opposed to trying to fill.

  All she wanted was to stop hurting about her Mom so she could focus on the good memories. Maggie longed to feel all her Mom’s love and kindness before she felt the crunch and despair of missing her. Not after. If she could just reverse the order of the memories and the feelings, then she’d feel like she’d moved on about as well as she could, or ever would.

  Joe stood and held Maggie in his arms, murmuring soothing words into her ear, hating how she shook and sobbed. God, what he wouldn’t do to make it all stop for her… he’d give or do anything and he’d do it in a flash. There was nothing to do, though.

  Well. There was maybe one thing, something that he’d been thinking about for a while. Now seemed like a good time to talk to her about it.

  She was calming at last, and he waited until her breathing had evened out. Eyes averted, she tried to pull away and he just tightened his grip as he looked down at her. Her chin lifted and her mouth opened, and Joe knew what was about to come out. He pressed a finger to her full lips, stopping the words.

  “Don’t,” he grated out.

  “Don’t what?” she asked, her words a bit muffled by his finger.

  “Don’t you apologize. Don’t you say that you feel stupid for crying. Just don’t.”

  She blinked up at him. “How’d you –”

  “Because that’s what you always do after you cry in front of me, baby.”

  She paused. “I do?”

  “Yeah. You do.” He stroked her cheek, ran his fingers through her mass of curls. “Know what else?”

  “No.”

  “You only have the nightmare on nights that you sleep alone.”

  “I do?” she repeated.

  “Yeah. You do.”

  Maggie thought about that, and with a shock, she realized that he was right. When she stayed at Joe’s house or he slept over at her apartment, she never had the dream. She used to, but it hadn’t happened for a while. A long while, now that she was paying attention.

  “You’re right,” she said. “I guess… I guess when you’re there, something feels different.”

  He stared down at her, watching her closely. “You feel safe with me, sweetness?”

  “Yes.”

  “You trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  Joe didn’t take either of those answers lightly, not considering his history with this woman. This was his second chance with Maggie, and he was still stunned that she’d given it to him after he’d cheated on her all those years ago. He was a different man now and he’d never ever hurt her again, and the fact that Maggie saw him as a man to trust and feel safe with was nothing but a small miracle. One that he was determined to deserve having received.

  “I want you to move in with me, Maggie,” Joe said. “No more nights apart, no more ‘my space’ and ‘your space’. I want ‘our space’. I want everything to be ‘ours’.”

  “You – what?”

  “I want to live together.” He kissed her forehead. “I want you to be with me all the time… when you’re awake, when you’re asleep. For every breakfast coffee and every glass of wine in front of the fire before we go to bed together and make love. For long, lazy weekends and for crazy-busy weekdays. All the time, Maggie. All the time and always.”

  She stared up at him, her mouth hanging open. Yes, she knew that Joe was a different man than the one that she’d been with years ago, and he’d shown her that a thousand ways already. But moving in together? She hadn’t seen that coming. Not this soon.

  “It’s not too soon?” she asked cautiously.

  “Not for me, baby.” He cupped her face in his strong hands. “If it is for you, say so. I’ll wait.”

  “You will?”

  “With a smile.” His thumbs stroked her lips. “But even if you say no to moving in together, I do have one thing I want to ask.”

  “OK.”

  “No more nights apart, not even one. Sleep with me every night. I don’t care if you stay at my place or I stay at yours… I just don’t want you to have to handle that dream on your own anymore. I love you, and knowing that you wake up alone and hurting and afraid tears me up inside. Let me be there for when it happens – and let me help it not happen in the first place. If I can, I mean.”

  “Oh, Joe.” Tears were stringing her eyes again, but for a totally different reason this time. “I –”

  His kiss stopped her words. She responded with everything that she had, loving his taste, his touch. When his hands snaked into her hair and held her still so he could lower his lips to her throat, she shuddered. Good Lord, what this man could do to her in mere seconds and with the smallest touch. It should be illegal.

  Joe kissed his way down her throat, giving her a tiny nip with his teeth every once in a while. Maggie gasped, her head thrown back, her eyes closed. She was trembling again, but not from sadness this time. Now she was a woman trembling on the cusp of pure, sheer desire and Joe loved how she melted against him, went all relaxed and languid.

  Without another word, he swung her up into his arms and carried her over to the sofa. She clung to his shoulders, already ready for him. He gently rested her on the cushions, then stepped back to rip off his clothes. Maggie was undressing just as quickly, but when she reached for her jean shorts, he stopped her.

  “No,” he said, his voice deeper than usual. “I do that, baby. Hands off and lie back.”

  She did as he ordered, then held her breath as the most gorgeous man that she’d ever seen knelt down in front of her – just knelt there totally naked and all mouthwatering temptation – and peeled her shorts and panties off. When his mouth descended between her thighs, she cried out. And when he opened her wide and slid deep inside her, she screamed.

  Joe took her deep and gentle at first; took her deep and hard in just seconds. Neither one of them wanted to wait, and their orgasms rose fast as they moved together, over and over again. Their releases were almost simultaneous, with Maggie murmuring that she was there and Joe growling for her to go on, that he was right behind her. His climax exploded out of him less than five seconds after her internal muscles started clamping down on his cock, and he was shaking and panting as hard as she was when it was all over.

  Tangled together, Maggie’s face still buried in Joe’s broad shoulder, his hands still clenching her hair, they slowly relaxed.

  “Sweetness?” He drew back a bit, still snug and deep inside her curvy, soft body. “You good?”

  Her face appeared now and she smiled up at him. God, she was radiant and his breath caught yet again. The thought that he’d been so stupid as to risk losing her forever made him want to kick the ass of his younger, arrogant dickhead self yet again – for about the millionth time. Jesus, but he’d been a world-class asshole. Practically worthy of some kind of Guinness record for World’s Biggest Asshole, or something along those lines.

  “Yeah,” she said, lifting her head a bit to give him the smallest, sweetest kiss, one that made his stomach flip. “I’m good.”

  “OK.” He sighed a bit, shifted so that they were on their sides facing each other, staying nestled deep inside her hot little pussy. “So… you hungry? I brought you a late breakfast. I figured you hadn’t eaten today.”

  “Ooooh.” Her eyes lit up at the mention of food. “Croissants?”

  “Chocolate ones, baby, and made fresh this morning in my kitchen.”

  “Joe?”

  “Hmmmm?”

  “Yes.”

  Puzzled, he stroked her tumbled hair back off her shining face. “Yes what?”r />
  “Yes, I’ll move in with you.”

  His breath caught in his chest, his heart stopped dead. “You will?”

  “Yes.” She smiled his favorite smile now, all teasing and sassy. “It’s my secret fantasy to live in a house where chocolate croissants are made in the kitchen, like, every day. Just so you know what I expect from you, babe.”

  “Oh, Maggie.” His kiss was a thank you for giving him her trust, and a promise to never betray it, not ever again. “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” she said looking over her shoulder at the bags on the kitchen counter. “So… now that you’ve helped me to work up an appetite, handsome, what else did you bring me?”

  “Wanna go see?”

  “Sure,” she said, running her fingers up and down his muscled arms. “Unless there’s something else you want to do first.”

  “Like… help you work up even more of an appetite?”

  Her green eyes sparkled up at him, so full of heat and love. “You think you can?”

  His cock was already hardening and thickening and in response, he rolled his hips. She moaned, clutched his back.

  “Seems I can,” he whispered.

  And he did. Oh God… he did.

  **

  Mitch wandered in to the living room, found Reena sitting and frowning at her laptop.

  “What’s up, sugar?” he asked, plunking himself down next to her on the sofa. “You look irritated.”

  “Not irritated so much as overwhelmed,” she replied, taking a sip of coffee. “I’m being inundated with information and it’s all a bit much.”

  “What’s going on?” Mitch ran one massive hand through her long strawberry-blonde hair. “Can I help?”

  Reena sighed. “Well… it’s just that I have to choose what to do with the money.” She hesitated, already dreading Mitch’s reaction. “From the court judgment.”

  Automatically and bang on cue, Mitch’s lips tightened and his whole body tensed right up. He hated hearing anything whatsoever about that fucking trial, and even though Simon Yates was now languishing in jail for the foreseeable future, Mitch wasn’t done wanting to kill the prick. He’d never be done with that.

  How the hell could he be? Yates had tried to rape Reena and when she’d fought back, he’d beaten her badly enough for her to require stitches and painkillers strong enough to practically send her into a coma. Worse, he’d traumatized and terrorized her by proxy – through his fucking high-priced lawyers. Thank Christ her nightmares had totally stopped and she’d regained her sunny, optimistic personality at long last because for a while there, she’d struggled. Hard.

  It was still incredible to Mitch that not only had Reena testified against the bastard in open court, but she’d actually held it together enough for the decision to go in the prosecution’s favor. She’d been ripped to shreds on the stand but she’d survived and in his decision, the judge had not only sent Yates to jail for two years, but he’d also ordered that Yates pay two million dollars.

  Reena’s job was to decide where that money was going to go: it had to go to an organization or organizations that worked with female victims of violence in some way. And as Reena had found out, much to her consternation and dismay, there was no shortage of such places, since there was no shortage of need.

  “OK,” Mitch said, fighting to keep an even and calm tone. “Have you narrowed down the field at all?”

  Reena looked relieved at his lack of reaction. “Yeah.”

  “OK,” he repeated, feeling on safer conversational ground now. “Tell me.”

  “Well.” Reena tapped some keys on her laptop. “I’ve chosen three groups, and divided half the money between them. These are government-funded organizations, and so they’re in pretty good shape financially, actually, which is a bit of a surprise.”

  “So you still have a million to distribute.”

  “Yeah. And I think I’ve found one group.”

  “Which one?”

  “That I don’t really know. It’s super top-secret.”

  Mitch cocked his head. “Huh?”

  Reena shrugged. “Right? I only heard about it when I went to check out this one shelter for battered women that I’ve decided to give some of the money to. One of the counsellors there told me that there’s this safe house run by some ex-celebrity and apparently, this star has privately funded the place for years. But now she’s looking to expand hugely, so she’s applying for public funding and donations.”

  “Who?”

  “Dunno. The woman at the shelter said that they don’t share that information, since the ex-celebrity keeps things quiet and on the down-low. She’s pretty paranoid about people getting information too easily.”

  “Seems an odd way to get donations.”

  “It’s more a secret that she’s involved, since she doesn’t want people to follow her around and maybe find the safe house that way.”

  “Oh. So it’s really a safe house.”

  “Sounds like it. If I want to find out more, I have to sign an air-tight non-disclosure agreement and meet this mystery celebrity at the safe house. She arranges my transportation to and from the place, and I can’t ever talk about what I see and hear there.”

  “Wow.” Mitch stared at her. “Can I go with you?”

  “I asked and the woman at the shelter said yes, but you have to sign the NDA too. And you can’t go in with me.”

  “What?” Mitch didn’t like that at all. “Why not?”

  “Because the women and kids at this safe house have experienced the worst of the worst in terms of abuse, and they don’t have very positive feelings about men. The word is that the safe house is totally a man-free zone.”

  “Ah.” Mitch got that, sadly. “You sure you want to do this?”

  “Yeah. I really do. I want to at least go and look around, find out more. I want to make an informed decision before I say yes or no. I mean… it is a lot of money.”

  “OK,” Mitch said in his usual cut-through-the-bullshit-and-take-action way. “When?”

  “This weekend?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “You’re not training?”

  “Nope. Day off on Saturday.” He glanced at his watch. “Speaking of which, I gotta get to The Rock and get my ass kicked around for six hours.”

  She grinned. “You’re training with Adam today?”

  “Yeah.” Mitch stared down at his hands, already predicting how badly they’d be swollen and aching by tonight. “The man beats on me like it’s his life work, I swear to you, babe.”

  “Well, it kind of is,” Reena pointed out. “Seeing as The Rock’s your sponsor.”

  “Uh-huh. The guys pay me to bash me around.”

  “They do. And you take their money with a smile.”

  “I do,” Mitch agreed. “Though some days I wonder if I don’t need to get my head examined by a medical professional.”

  “Speaking of which… any word on Nick?” Reena asked hesitantly. “I tried calling Mia four times this morning to check in, but her phone goes straight to voice mail.”

  “She’s at the hospital, I imagine. Nick starts physio today, Adam said last night.”

  “What?” Reena was stunned. “But… but he just had his surgery two days ago! How can he already be in some kind of physical program?”

  “It’s nothing too extreme,” Mitch said. “Stretching, mostly, and also some upper body work with the parallel bars for balance and strengthening. Not that Nick’s upper body needs too much work or building up.”

  “Is he working at the bars with a prosthetic?”

  “Not yet. That’s in about two weeks, assuming there’s no infection and the healing post-surgery goes well.”

  “God.” Reena exhaled, her heart hurting for their friends. “I still can’t believe any of this.”

>   “I know, sugar.” Mitch shook his head, wishing like hell that none of this had happened. “I know.”

  Chapter Four

  Nick gritted his teeth and stretched his entire body down and over the length of both thighs. He held it for ten seconds, sat up, lowered his massive frame again. And again. With his right hand, he gripped the toes on his right foot each time. Since his left hand had nothing to grab, it lay flat on the mat in front of him.

  “Good!” Maisie chirped. “Thirty more. You feel the stretch in your hips?”

  “A bit,” he grunted. “Not much, though.”

  “Straighten your legs more,” Maisie said cheerfully. “Get that stretch, Nick.”

  Dutifully, he did as she said and sure enough, now he felt it. He nodded at her, and she nodded back.

  He did the last thirty, then leaned back on his hands, actually sweating a bit. Jesus Christ, how the hell could sitting on his ass and doing fifty stretches be even remotely strenuous? Nick was a veteran of some of the toughest, most demanding physical karate training, and he knew that this wasn’t worth breaking a sweat over. Not even close.

  “How do you feel?” Maisie asked.

  “Good.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You can handle some more?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “OK.” Her blonde ponytail bounced as she moved closer. “Now some sit-ups with a half-twist. Legs straight out in front of you and hands behind your neck. Use those ab muscles only.”

  Nick lay down on the mat, stared up at the ceiling of the rehab room. It was gray and depressing, but he was used to unappealing scenery at a gym and he didn’t let it faze him. Instead, he did as his relentlessly-upbeat physical therapist demanded and he started to do the sit-ups, twisting his upper body when he was halfway up, using his obliques to power through the last little way.

  “How many?” he asked after twenty, hating to admit that he was already struggling a bit. Goddammit.

  “Oh, let’s just see how we do,” she said. “We’ll do thirty for now.”