Fighting Back (Fighting For Love Book 5)

by James, Marysol

  She’d liked being a fiery redhead, truth be told, and although she’d been happy to go back to her natural blonde as soon as she’d run screaming from her porn star life six months before, she kind of missed the auburn. Some mornings, in fact, it took her aback to stumble in to the bathroom and see a blonde staring back at her through bleary eyes.

  Yeah, Thalia Flame was long gone. Those two fucking assholes may have hurt Thalia badly enough for her to want to die… but Trish Montgomery had actually killed her. Trish had finished what those two monsters had started, and she’d done so decisively.

  Ignoring the hot guy ogling her in front of his date, Trish smiled at the bride and groom, thinking that they looked genuinely happy. They smiled back, then the guy – Nick – whispered something to Mia and she nodded. He got to his feet, all grace and power, and extended his large hand to her. She took it, let him help her up, and off they went to the dance floor.

  Trish sighed at this, maybe a bit enviously. She’d been damn lucky to land this job with the catering company, and she had exactly zero illusions about her work skills and her abilities. With her lack of formal education and her track record of working in porn full-time, she wasn’t qualified to do much more than ask people, “Chicken or fish?” and carry trays of stuff back and forth. She had no real hopes of doing much better than this, though she might get lucky and find steady work in a restaurant for decent tips.

  Love, though. Men and relationships and love – Trish still held out some hope there, though she was starting to wonder if that was nothing but idiocy. Guys were generally pretty OK… until she got up the courage to tell them what she’d done for a living before the catering gig. Then they leered, they dropped the gentleman act, they lunged for her breasts in public, they wanted to watch porn with her as the star – and they wanted to watch it with her.

  So she stood in the corner, just for a minute, and she watched Nick and Mia walk over to the dance floor for their first dance as a married couple. God, what she wouldn’t give for a nice guy like Nick, or one of his groomsmen. Every one of them had a woman on his arm, and every one of them treated that woman like gold. Like she was precious and beautiful; like she was worth protecting and cherishing.

  Trish had never been treated that way. Not once, not ever, not by anyone.

  She sighed again, still a bit wistful, maybe even a bit defeated, and then she headed off to the kitchen to refill her heavy silver coffee pot. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the scary, glowering guy with the dark hair moving her way, and she picked up the pace, desperate to duck in to the kitchen and hide. Whatever the hell he wanted, she was sure that it wasn’t going to work out well for her. Guys who looked like him were too much – too hulking, too muscular, too dangerous – and they were always bad news.

  No sense hoping that this guy was going to be different than all the others.

  No sense hoping for anything from this guy, really.

  Rippling muscles and moonlight silver eyes be damned.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nick escorted Mia to the dance floor, feeling surprisingly calm and confident about this. God knows, he and Adam had practiced until they were blue in the face and Keegan had almost lost his mind from watching two men slow-dance. But it was all going to be worth it now: Nick was going to take Mia in his arms and he was going to sweep her off her feet.

  He meant that literally. Though that part wasn’t going to happen here.

  Mia looked up at her husband, smiled when he gently placed his hand on the curve of her hip. She’d been so touched to hear that he and Adam had practiced this exact moment over and over, and she wanted it to be perfect for Nick and for herself, too. She wanted this to be just the first dance of many… each one as close and warm and loving as this one.

  People gathered around them, watching as Nick and Mia moved slowly, gracefully, across the floor. Nobody looking at him would have had any idea that Nick was wearing a prosthetic; that just seven months ago, he’d fallen in to Adam’s arms as he’d tried to take his first step.

  He’d come so far since then, just taken so many steps, all different kinds of them. And Mia had been at his side for all of it – he’d never have made it without her. Not this far, not this fast. No way he’d be this happy or healthy and when he kissed her, he thanked her for believing in him despite the odds, despite the risks.

  “So, Mrs. Spencer,” he muttered against her lips. “You about ready to consummate this marriage?”

  “Oooh.” She grinned up at him, a bit wickedly. “You mean right here?”

  Nick laughed. “Maybe not in front of my Mom?”

  “Fine.” She fake-pouted. “Be all non-exhibitionist about it, Mr. Spencer.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that,” he said, totally not sorry at all. “Nobody else gets to lay eyes on you, babe. You’re mine.”

  “Am I?”

  “Damn right you are.”

  Mia tugged his head down to hers. “Prove it,” she whispered in his ear.

  Without another word, Nick spun her, led her off the dance floor. The crowd whooped and Mia flushed a beautiful pink, but Nick barely heard them: all he wanted was to be alone with his wife.

  Sweet Jesus. My wife. Mia’s my wife.

  The walk to their cabin was done at warp-speed and Nick’s hands were everywhere: curled in her hair, tugging it down and loose; on her shoulders, holding her in place for his ravenous mouth; under her dress, his seeking fingers teasing tortured moans out of her.

  They stumbled in to the cabin, entwined together, kissing wildly now, hardly aware of anything but each other. Nick slammed the door shut behind them, then pushed Mia up against it, grinding his erection against the curve of her thighs.

  She ripped her mouth away from his. “Here… Nick, please. Right here.”

  “You sure?” he rasped, already raising her dress and lowering her lacy little panties to the floor. “Totally sure?”

  “Yes,” she panted, her own fingers busy with his zipper. She tugged his dress pants down and his huge, amazing cock sprang out in to her hand. “I can’t wait.”

  Without another word, Nick lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his hips, her arms around his shoulders. Using his entire body and with his one hand braced on the door next to her, he leaned against his wife, holding her securely in place. With his other hand, he rubbed his hardness against her softness. Mia moaned, arched, her fingers digging in to his broad upper back.

  “Nick…”

  He didn’t respond with words: he responded with his body. Drawing back slightly, he lined up the head of his cock and gave a small, careful thrust. She stiffened and he paused.

  “Babe?” He moved his hand under her curvy ass, supporting her. “You OK?”

  She nodded, already breathless. “You feel so damn good.”

  “Oh, fuck,” he groaned as she rotated her hips, taking him deeper. “Ditto, angel.”

  That was the end of coherent conversation between them.

  Nick drove himself inside his wife as deep as he could, and she clung to him, loving being trapped between his body and the door, loving being so completely taken. This man always just took her, no apologies and no hesitation, and she’d never objected.

  And as she felt him pounding into her, moving faster and harder, claiming her with every inch of his muscular body, Mia knew that she never would.

  Nick planted his hand more firmly on the door, dug his fingers in to soft curve of Mia’s hip. He was determined to not come until she was there, so he did everything he knew that she liked to make it happen for her.

  As her body began to shake and his name fell from her lips, he knew he’d succeeded.

  He lowered his lips to her ear. “So close, babe… so fucking close.”

  Mia whimpered, grinding herself against him with sheer desperation. He changed his angle, just a bit, and he knew that he’d found
that sweet spot when she clenched on him, released, clenched again.

  “Fuck, yeah.” He moved faster now, his own climax rushing up to meet him. “You need to come, Mia. You need to come for your husband.”

  A strangled cry escaped her and Nick grinned.

  “Oh, Christ. You’re gonna scream, aren’t you? I can tell.” He gave a deep thrust, held it, then moved deeper. “I can always tell.”

  “Nick!” Her head went back to rest against the door, her eyes shut, her mouth opened. “Oh, damn… Nick…”

  Right away, he moved the hand on the door to the back of her neck. Tender-rough, he forced her face down again.

  “Eyes open, babe,” he growled. “You look at me the first time you come for me as my wife. Here, Mia… fucking right here.”

  She did as he ordered, knowing that she had no choice in the matter. Her golden eyes held his gray ones, and the intensity that she saw in those depths jolted her, pushed her closer to the edge.

  Nothing better. Just… nothing.

  Then it was on her, washing over her, washing her away, and Nick dragged her lips up to his. He swallowed her screams of release, took them in to his mouth, and then his grunts and groans sounded back in to hers.

  It was over now, and they were a shuddering, heaving mess against the door. Open-mouthed kisses, sweet murmurs, panting breaths against the door. All wrapped around each other, still joined together.

  Still one body. And far more and far better than that – one soul.

  Only now – now that it was all over and the madness had passed – did Nick think about his prosthetic. That was when Keegan’s words came back to him:

  One day you’ll be doin’ somethin’ man, and you’re gonna completely forget that the prosthetic ain’t your leg. Maybe just for a few seconds, maybe for a whole minute… you’re gonna forget. That day? That’s the day that the thing becomes yours, becomes part of you. It’s a damn good day, I promise you.

  Damned if the man wasn’t right, yet again. Hell, knowing Keegan, he’d probably be fucking thrilled to find out that what Nick had been ‘doing’ when he’d forgotten about his prosthetic was making wild, passionate love to his wife up against a cabin door.

  Frankly, Nick was thrilled for this to be the first time that he forgot… and he was also super-relieved that he hadn’t gone crashing down to the floor, taking Mia with him.

  So it was all going to be OK after all. He’d gotten through it with Mia at his side – and he’d get through so much more with her in the exact same damn place.

  With Mia, there was nothing Nick couldn’t handle or face. And with him, there was nothing that Mia was going to have to do alone.

  They were a team… a team until death did them part.

  “Oh, God,” Mia said now, suddenly struggling against him. “Nick… your leg.”

  “Hush, babe.” He held her more firmly. “I’m good.”

  She stopped trying to wriggle away. “Really?”

  “Really. I didn’t even think about it.”

  “Me neither.” She gave him a familiar saucy grin. “Know what I was thinking about?”

  “How incredibly lucky you are to have such a hot husband?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Nope.”

  “OK. So what?”

  “I was hoping that we made a baby tonight.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Nick kissed her forehead. “Being off the pill will do that, huh?”

  “Sure will.”

  He gently lowered her to the floor now, still holding her close. She leaned against the door, took a deep breath.

  “Nick?”

  “Yeah, angel?”

  “I kinda lied to you just now.”

  “About what?”

  “About how I wasn’t thinking what a hot husband I have.” She ran her fingers down his chest, started to unbutton his dress shirt. “I totally was.”

  “I knew it.” He shrugged off his shirt and she pressed a tiny kiss on his chiseled torso. “I mean… how can you not?”

  She rolled her eyes again, and then gave a small shriek when he slid his hand between her legs. Nick stroked her drenched lower lips, slipped a finger inside her, and right away, she was ready again.

  “Bedroom?” he asked her, his voice husky as he started to slide in and out of her pussy, his fingers slick with her honey and his own release. “Or here again?”

  “The floor,” she gasped, sinking down and tugging him on top of her. “We’ll get to the bed soon.”

  They did – eventually – get to the bed… but only after the sofa, the dining room table, and the kitchen floor.

  Epilogue

  Nick and Mia’s son – the first of three – was born almost exactly nine months later. Adam and Katie’s daughter Samantha took one look at the sleeping baby and declared him to be her future husband. Katie and Mia immediately started scheming how to make this happen, while their husbands excused themselves from the insanity and went for a beer to celebrate the birth of little Kieran Spencer.

  Nick and Adam walked in to Joe’s restaurant and – as always – admired the apsara at the door. It had been the last one that Maggie had completed, and it was the biggest and definitely the most eye-catching. She’d completely outdone herself on this one, and photos of it had exploded all over the internet, as well as travel magazines and blogs, and pretty much any foodie review of the restaurant used it as an image.

  It had launched Maggie’s career in to the stratosphere, actually, and as a result, she had her choice of sculpture commissions and clients. Now that she was six months pregnant, she worked less but charged way more – though Joe wanted her to stay horizontal in bed. Preferably with him there, and with both of them naked.

  Maggie rolled her eyes at her fiancé and kept working; Joe rolled his eyes back and made sure that she ate every day. Maggie complained endlessly about the weight gain, but Joe just ran his hands over her curves with appreciation and took off her clothes until she stopped talking.

  Joe saw Nick and Adam come in and with a grin, he waved them through the packed restaurant over to their table. Mitch was already sitting there, and he’d brought his daughter along. He looked exhausted, but Reena was even more so: she was breastfeeding Lila every hour, it seemed, and hadn’t slept more than forty-five minutes in a row since the baby’s birth two months earlier.

  “Hey,” Mitch greeted the other men. “Congrats, Daddy!”

  “Thanks,” Nick said, smiling at Lila. The baby blinked up at him, making that amazing little cooing sound that brought even the biggest, toughest men to their knees. He stroked her peach-fuzz cheek with gentle fingers and she gave him a gummy grin. “Hey, little one.”

  “How’s Mia?” Joe asked anxiously. “She doing OK?”

  “She and Katie are planning Kieran’s wedding to Samantha,” Adam explained.

  “She – what?” Mitch said, wondering if sleep deprivation had made him hallucinate that last part. “Kieran and Sam?”

  “Yep,” Nick confirmed. “Sam’s staked her claim on him. Said that he had the cutest, fattest cheeks. Apparently she likes that in a man.”

  “Oh, well, then,” Joe said. “It’s a done deal. Your kid may only be a year old, Adam, but she knows her mind and if the women are helping her get her man, then it’s all over. Kieran’s toast, Nick. Sorry.”

  “Right?” Nick grinned. “What a tag-team… Mia, Katie and Sam. I think they’d be able to take any of us down without major effort.”

  The other men nodded fervently, and with maybe a tiny bit of terror at the thought.

  “OK, so,” Joe said. “What’ll it be? Champagne?”

  “Nah, thanks,” Nick said. “Next time, man. I promised Mia I’d be back at the hospital in two hours, after I saw you guys. I’m good with one beer.”

  “Same,” Adam said.

  “Same,” Mitch said wit
h a yawn, rocking Lila as she dozed off in his massive arms. “Oh, shit… maybe forget the beer and just bring me a triple espresso.”

  Adam grinned. “I remember these days, Corrigan. Or more like these nights. Have you become totally addicted to nighttime infomercials?”

  “Reena has,” Mitch said. “I’m more susceptible to ‘Saved By The Bell’ reruns and the music channels. But who knew there was so much damn bad nighttime TV, huh? It seems like I watch an absurd amount of it between diaper changes and putting Lila back to bed after a feeding.”

  “Speaking of which,” Nick said, eyeing the bottle of breast milk sticking out of the overflowing diaper bag. “Where’s Reena?”

  “Sleeping.” Mitch kissed his daughter softly on the top of her head. “She wanted to start planning our wedding, but she collapsed on top of a pile of travel brochures. She’s done with trying to stay conscious for a few hours.”

  “You’re looking at your life for the next year, man,” Adam said to Nick, then he grinned at Joe. “And you’re looking at your near-future.”

  Both men stared at Mitch, took in his messy hair, stubbled cheeks and dark circles under his moss-green eyes. Nick and Joe glanced at each other.

  “Any way out of this, you figure?” Nick asked Joe.

  “Nope.” Joe shook his head. “We’re roped in now. Better stock up on the coffee.”

  “And the baby wipes,” Adam intoned. “Loads of baby wipes.”

  Mitch nodded grimly.

  “Anyway,” Joe said, grimacing slightly at the thought of what exactly he’d be using those wipes for. “Beer? Coffee? Both?”

  “Beer,” Mitch said decisively. “One.”

  “Beer all around,” Nick agreed. “We can toast our full-on happy domestication after years of bad bachelor behavior, and general man-whore assholery.”

  “Speak for yourself, Spencer,” Adam huffed. “I was never a man-whore.”

  “I was,” Mitch said. “Huge.”