by Stacey Lynn
"It gets better."
I shake my head and take a large swallow from my drink, wincing at the taste. "He made me talk thought everything. All the shit." Emotion tightens in my throat, but I beat it back. "It was like walking through a field of hidden IEDs all over again." I got out of the army lucky, by most people's standards: a gash to my side that needed to be stapled back together and a lot of blood loss, but compared to men who have lost lives or limbs, my injuries are minor.
"My advice?" Landon asks.
I scowl. "You're going to give it whether or not I want it, so why bother asking?"
"Because I'm your big brother."
"Two fucking minutes," I mutter and he punches me in the shoulder.
Since he's so close, it doesn't hurt, but I still fake like I'm going to punch him back. When he flinches, I throw my head back and laugh.
"Hey!" Rodney calls out from in front of him, twisting in his seat. "Fucking bump my seat again and I'll kick both your asses."
I chortle.
Landon snickers. "Bring it, old man."
Rodney glares at Landon. "Just shut the hell up. I'm trying to fuckin' sleep up here."
Sleep off his hangover, most likely. Rodney Bartlett is an incredible fight trainer. He's trained more championship MMA fighters than anyone I know. Outside the ring, his life is a fucking mess. It's almost always a given that he'll show up in the morning with a hangover.
Today's early flight means he didn't have a prayer of sleeping off his drinks from last night.
In the last year, Grayson, Landon, and I have started saving our money so someday we can buy his gym from him.
I'm hoping that day comes sooner rather than later.
I take another pull from my drink and then rest my head back and close my eyes.
I didn't get much sleep last night, either.
As I start to drift off, Landon leans in closer. "Fucking proud of you for doing this, brother. Do what he says, even when it sucks, and I can guarantee you it'll help."
I keep my eyes closed but hold my fist out to him for him to hit back to show I've heard him.
I can only hope so, because I want one night where I can wake up with Sarah in my arms before I roll her over and slide inside of her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SARAH
"I THINK I'M going to throw up," Kennedy says, sitting next to me in the cab. We’re on our way from the airport in New Orleans to the Smoothie King Center where the actual UFA Championship will be held.
From what Kennedy and Lynx have said in the last couple of weeks, this is going to be one of Grayson's toughest fights yet.
Kennedy's almost chewed off all of her fingernails from her nerves.
"Relax." I laugh softly and squeeze her hand.
If I knew Lynx was getting ready to be kicked and beaten and punched all over his glorious body, I'd be a nervous wreck, too.
Her nerves aren’t helped by the fact that Grayson had to leave earlier in the week to get down to New Orleans and finish his training and do a whole bunch of media stuff for the fight tomorrow. Kennedy couldn't come down earlier than today due to her new job.
She also wanted to wait for me, and since I'd recently taken a week off work to go back to Minnesota, the hotel wouldn't let me have another weekend off too soon.
As it is, I had to beg my coworker, Jamie, to switch weekends with me, and I have to take on one of her more difficult clients. A business owner who's planning their annual holiday party at our hotel puts Mrs. Rodriquez's arguments with her daughter over flowers to shame.
Yet I know it's worth it.
I've also spent the last three nights alone without getting to see Lynx.
He’s sent me a myriad of dirty texts in the last few days. I can’t wait to show him how much he’s turned me on. I’ve never felt so sexually frustrated.
The man knows how to sext—almost as well as he knows how to fuck.
I can't deny that I'm growing feelings for him.
Feelings that I'm finding are harder and harder to fight.
The last night I saw Lynx before he had to board the plane, I actually felt the sting of disappointment when he suggested it was time for me to take off.
I was exhausted. Sated from sex. My limbs were weak.
I had wanted to crawl under his covers and actually put my arms around him until I fell asleep.
I didn't show my disappointment, though.
I left his loft as soon as I could and tried just as hard not to show the hurt I felt.
It wasn't until I went home to my apartment and crawled into my bed, smoothed out sheets that still smelled like Lynx's body wash, that I realized that when he's not around...
I miss him.
In the last few weeks, ever since I told Lynx about T.A.T.D., I'm slowly learning that he isn't going to stop until he gets what he wants.
For him, currently that seems to be me.
I'm no longer fighting the pull I feel toward him as much as I used to. I've resigned myself to the fact that at the very least, we really are friends. Considering Grayson and Kennedy seem to be going the distance, it's a good thing.
We're going to be around each other a lot in the future, and it will make it easier for everyone involved if Lynx and I can continue to maintain a decent relationship.
I hadn't realized how close we were to the hotel, but before I know it the cab is pulling over and a valet is opening our front door.
After he helps us out of the car and assists with our luggage, I slide a small tip into his hand. The air is instantly heavy on my skin and is quite the change from the fall weather we've already begun having in Chicago.
"You okay?" I ask, turning toward Kennedy. Her eyes are unfocused and she’s twisting her fingers together in front of her.
I wrap my arm around her shoulder as a bellhop comes out, takes the luggage rack from the valet, and begins pushing it inside.
"I'm just anxious to see Grayson.”
I squeeze her tighter before letting her enter the revolving door in front of me. "He's going to be just fine," I say once we're on the other side. "Let's check in and freshen up and then we can get to the Event Center, okay?"
She nods and walks away from me. My heart clenches with sympathy.
Kennedy's been through so much over the years, and now that I know how much Grayson means to her, I don't blame her for being concerned and worried. But he also didn't become The Legend, making a fast rise to being a UFA Champion, without having massive amounts of skill.
I've seen The Legend in action and he's incredible.
Kennedy has nothing to worry about.
"Hi. Sarah Linscum," I tell the concierge as she greets me at the counter. "I was told we would have keys available to us. We're staying with Grayson Legend's team this weekend."
The concierge gives me a doubtful expression as she taps on the computer. "Name again?"
I fight the desire to roll my eyes at her. I can understand. Grayson is well known in MMA circles. I don't doubt that fighters have their own share of groupies. I saw them for myself when I first showed up at his hotel room in Vegas.
I repeat my name, give her Kennedy's, and wait impatiently until she hands me a key to the deluxe suite for me, and a key for the presidential suite for Kennedy.
"Come on, chickadee," I tease. I give the room numbers to the bellhop, and while he disappears into a service elevator with our luggage, Kennedy and I head to our rooms.
"Just come and get me when you're ready to go," Kennedy says when we separate at the rooms.
It's not until I'm inside the suite that I realize what's just happened.
Lynx has reserved a suite.
Solely for him and me.
I brush away the fear of what this implies and get changed in a hurry once the bellhop arrives with my clothes.
Then I quickly down a glass of wine before I head to Kennedy’s room, rushing out of the suite with the one bed as quickly as I possibly can.
***
&nb
sp; "So what happens once this fight is over?" I ask Lynx as we reach our suite.
After Kennedy and I went to the Event Center and listened to Grayson and Rodney give a handful of interviews, Grayson and Kennedy took off so he can rest before the fight tomorrow night.
Landon, Lynx, and I went out to dinner and walked around the French Quarter. We've had a few drinks, but they don't want to risk being hungover tomorrow while Grayson goes through his final weigh-in in the morning and has a quick sparring round with Landon.
Everyone needs to be in top form, and while we've discussed the fight very little throughout the evening, it's clear that it's on both of their minds.
Lynx drops my hand from his and pushes the door to our room open. "We'll take a break. We've had two fights back-to-back, so he needs some time off to let his body rest."
"What do you do then?" I find myself asking.
He and I have been sleeping together for over two months and I've never intentionally tried to find out anything about him. I've even avoided meeting up with him at the gym.
Embarrassment fills me at how cold and intentionally separate I've kept us, even in these last few weeks since we've been getting together to have fun before we end up tangled between the sheets. Or on top of them. Or on the couch.
As if he knows what I'm thinking about, Lynx tugs on my hand. When I pull my gaze to him, he smiles—a smile I haven't yet seen.
I've seen his smiles heated. I've seen his smiles filled with mirth. I've seen him sarcastic and I've seen him tossing jabs with Landon.
I've never seen him look at me like this, though...
So...pleased.
And I know I've given him a gift just by asking this question.
"No rest for me. I'll start planning future fights, taking care of the PR stuff following this. We'll have to keep his name out there, monitor his future competitors. Plus, I've still got my own teaching and training to do."
I frown. "For fighting?"
"No, I don’t fight anymore. Just train." He laughs and shakes his head. "Landon and I have been searching out up-and-coming fighters, trying to get them to move to our gym. We want to take over Bartlett Gym when Rodney retires, so it's important to have younger fighters in our stable so we're ready to maintain the reputation."
"Oh,” I say numbly, suddenly aware of where we are as my eyes roam the large living area. This suite is beautiful, decorated in rich creams and deep brown tones. It’s relaxing and elegant at the same time.
And we’re spending the night here.
Together.
In a room with only one bed. All of my earlier nerves and apprehension return with what feels like a battering ram slamming into my chest.
“Sarah?” Lynx calls my name and I feel him come up behind me.
His hand rests on my shoulder before he slowly trails a fingertip down the exposed skin on my arm. Goose bumps ripple in the wake of his gentle touch and I fight the urge to shiver.
“You’re nervous,” he whispers, leaning forward and brushing his lips against my neck. “Why?”
“This seems different,” I admit, my voice so quiet that I’m surprised he can hear me.
His hand holds on to mine and he tugs gently, forcing me to turn toward him.
“It is different. At least I hope it is. I missed you this week.”
I lick my lower lip, hesitant to express what I want to say to him with words, but finally the truth spills from me. “I missed you, too.”
His grin is my reward. I tense when the back of his hand brushes down my cheek. His knuckles graze my skin and begin to elicit sparks throughout my body.
I can feel my body ready itself for this man in front of me, the only man who knows the worst, hidden parts of me and hasn’t run yet.
“Lynx,” I whisper on a needy, panted breath. “I need you.”
His eyes sparkle. “You have me.”
I swallow thickly, knowing he means more than just his body. He doesn’t give me time for that to scare me before his hand slides to the side of my neck, cupping me, and he pulls me toward him.
My hands fall against his chest. I roll to my toes as he slides his lips across mine, once and then twice, teasing me with promises of what’s to come.
My fingers dig into his shirt as my knees begin to wobble, and I lean closer to him, needing more of him.
Not just his body.
Him.
I gasp against his mouth as he takes another pass across my lips and his other arm wraps around my back. He lifts me off my feet, holding me to him, and carries us to the open bedroom door.
By the time he lays me on the bed, my skin is flushed and heated, and need has begun to burn deep inside of me.
This isn’t hurried. We’re not rushed.
This isn’t just about fun.
By the way his hands slide down my body, as if he reveres it—reveres me—the mood in the room shifts to something so much heavier than we’ve experienced before.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs, sliding his lips across my collarbone. His hands drop to the hem of my shirt and he pushes it up my body. I sit up to help him take it off and then reach to my back to remove my bra.
“Let me help,” he says and slides the straps of my bra down my arms before tossing it onto the floor. “I don’t know where to begin tonight.” His thumb grazes my taut nipple and my thighs press together, seeking relief from the sensations he pulls from me.
He drops to the floor in front of me, pulling my hips to the edge of the bed, and I fall back against the plush, cream comforter.
With deft and quick fingers, he has my jeans unbuttoned and has removed the rest of my clothes, sliding his hands along my thighs, brushing his thumbs against my sensitive skin.
“I need you,” I pant, my fingertips digging into the comforter. And I’m suddenly so thankful I’m already lying down, because if I were standing, I might faint.
Lynx has done exactly what he promised me weeks ago.
He’s made me need him and crave him in a way I didn’t know possible before this moment.
His fingers slide through my wetness and I force myself up onto my elbows to watch him.
Our eyes meet and his lips curve into a wicked grin. “How are you feeling about ‘just friends’ with me now?”
It’s like he has a mental link to my mind.
His fingers slide through my wet center, making my hips jerk up toward his featherlight touch, and my lips part. “I think friendships are underrated.”
“Yeah,” he says, leaning forward and pressing a kiss almost at my center, but off to the side. I squirm beneath him, trying to get closer to him, when he whispers, “I think so, too.”
He presses his mouth against me and all teasing disappears. He takes my legs and drapes them over his shoulders while his tongue slides against me.
My eyes squeeze shut and I focus on the way he feels, the feel of his fingertips digging into my skin, the way my body responds to his every movement.
He adds his lips and his fingers and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Everything this man does to me turns me inside out.
I’m done fighting this pull between us—the chemistry is too intense.
He plays my body, knowing what it needs without my having to ask, and my orgasm barrels down my spine abruptly.
Fire spreads to my inner thighs as I thrash against the bed, arching my back and pushing my pussy against his mouth.
I scream his name and claw at his head while he draws every last ripple of my orgasm from me.
I haven’t yet regained a steady breath when he’s on top of me, sliding me back toward the center of the bed, adjusting the covers beneath us.
He’s naked.
I realize it as his hardened length brushes against me.
I don’t even know when it happened. I don’t care.
Because as Lynx joins me in bed, he slides his hands up my arms until our fingers are clasped together.
He adjusts himself in between my legs and th
en his delicious, thick cock is pushing inside of me.
“Oh God,” I moan, tilting my head back and closing my eyes.
“Sarah, open your eyes.”
I peel them open only to suck in a breath when I see that his own gaze is as soft as the way he’s moving inside of me. His compelling gaze, so full of tenderness, loudly speaks the emotions he feels for me without needing a single spoken word.
Our bodies begin to rock together. His hips thrust against me and I arch into him on every inward slide.
I can’t pull my eyes off him, stuck wanting to see the look in his eyes for as long as I can.
I’ve never known what it’s like to be loved so purely by someone.
I’ve never experienced unfettered acceptance.
I see it all in Lynx, feel it in the powerful but controlled movements of his body against mine.
The brush of his chiseled chest against my breasts with every inward movement forces me to bite my lip to contain another cry.
My fingers dig into his hands holding mine above my head, and he drops to his elbows, forcing us closer.
“Fuck, Sarah,” he groans as I roll my pelvis upward. “You always feel so good. So fucking tight and hot wrapped around my cock.”
His words ignite something deep inside me, making me burn.
“I’m coming,” I mewl, forcing myself to stare into my eyes. “Lynx.”
“Jesus,” he grunts. His hips begin to piston faster, quick and harsh movements that hit me just perfectly. “Incredible. Hold on for me.”
His dark eyes narrow with intensity and he grips my hands tighter, forcing them into the mattress.
I pant, parting my lips as his mouth drops to mine.
He kisses me deep and hard, sliding his tongue against me and tilting his head.
We’re connected everywhere and I begin spiraling upward, my climax hitting me out of nowhere, all at once. My body begins tensing and I rock my hips toward him, meeting him thrust for thrust as I’m pulled over the edge of my orgasm.
“Lynx!” I cry out, uncaring about neighbors or anything at all.
He’s made me lose my mind.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters, and he thrusts deep inside me, planting himself at the root.