by Dee Garcia
“Ready?” he asked, after signing us in.
“As I'll ever be. Let's do this.” I grinned, stuffing my Gatorade into my bag.
Yes, blue Gatorade was still my jam. Always would be.
With my man on my tail, we shuffled through the gym to an empty space near the weights at the back of the room. Idly, I noticed how head after head snapped toward us. Either they were Underground fans holding back from bounding toward me, or it was simply Knox. As I said before, everyone admired him. His height, those eyes, the tats; He was a giant piece of walking art you couldn't miss if you tried. Regardless, they kept staring, even as we began stretching out in front of the mirrors, and it was really irking me. Usually I could tune people out fairly quickly, but apparently not today. So, I waved at them with a beguiled smile in tow, and wouldn’t ya know, they all went right back to their business, their eyes widening like that of a deer caught in the headlights. Knox chuckled silently beside me, shaking his head at my antics as we went through a few quad stretches.
“They’re probably fans, baby,” he said, amused.
“Well, I don’t bite. If they want a selfie or even an autograph, I’m always down for that. All they have to do is ask. But staring mindlessly in our direction is rude.”
“It’s also not illegal.”
I shot him a lethal glare through the mirror. “Gee, babe, so supportive. Thanks.”
“I’m just telling it like it is. They seemed pretty starstruck to me.”
“Oh, please. They were not, they were just staring. You act like I snarled at them or something. All I did was wave.”
“Sarcastically,” he pointed out, switching to his other leg. “Now they probably won’t come near you at all.”
I followed his lead and rolled my eyes, hating that I knew he was right. As usual. ‘Whatever.”
“Mhmmm, whatever.”
“You’re really asking for it today, aren’t you,” I growled, far more testily than I meant to.
Knox stilled beside me, something I didn’t notice until way after the fact, when our eyes met in the mirror. Those baby blues bore into mine while the rest of his face was indecipherable.
Oh shit.
I’d poked the bear without even knowing it.
Okay, I’m lying. I knew that might press his buttons a smidge...but not like this.
I dragged an exaggeratedly remorseful smile across my face, and it did a whole lot of nothing. He was just staring, skyrocketing my pulse.
“You’re lucky we have work to do, otherwise we’d be going home,” he deadpanned.
“Why?”
“Because it’s you, kitten, who’s asking for it today. What is up with you?”
He thought there was something wrong with me? Was there? I thought about it for a second. I guess, in one way or another, I was anxious about how this session would pan out, maybe more so than I’d truly allowed myself to believe.
“I guess I’m just on edge,” I admitted, shrugging.
“About?”
“About getting in the cage.”
Cocking his head curiously, he crossed his arms. “Why?”
More like why were we playing a game of twenty-one questions? Weren’t we here to actually put work in, you know, something we hadn’t been doing because he was so busy? My blood simmered a bit and suddenly, his stare wasn’t so intimidating anymore.
“I’m out of practice, Knox, that’s why,” I snapped, mirroring his actions. “I’ve wasted so much time since accepting and now the fight is just a few weeks away. The last thing I want to do is go in there and make a fool out of myself,”
“Firstly, cool it with the attitude. I will take you into that locker room and remind you of who I am, regardless of who’s in there,” he said evenly, and my mouth popped open, to which he smirked. “And secondly, if you were this anxious, why not just tell me rather than intimidate innocent bystanders and growl at me unnecessarily?”
“Because honestly, I didn’t realize how worried about it I was until we got here. It’s like the second I saw the cage, this rush of unease washed over me,” I explained, drawing out a wave of dead air around us.
We just stood there in the middle of the gym, motionless, while everyone else went about their workouts. Knox was staring again, but this time it wasn’t meant to intimidate. He was simply working out something in his head, his brows furrowed together.
“Let’s go,” he decided after a beat.
“Where?”
“To the cage. Arm day will have to wait.”
“What? Why?” I was so confused.
“To rectify this sudden self-doubt of yours. Come on.” He started toward the cage, tipping his head for me to follow.
It wasn’t up for a debate. Workout or not, we were getting in that cage now. Grabbing my bag off the floor, I scrambled to his side and took in the determined expression on his face.
‘So, we’re really just going to skip the basis of an entire session?”
He nodded, peering down at me for a split-second. “We are indeed. This is your career. If you’re worried about ring time, then that’s what we need to focus on, not how many reps of ten you can do on the cables.”
And again, he had a point. Ugh.
“Why are you always right,” I couldn’t stop myself from asking as he dropped down onto the bench at the edge of the ring.
“Because I always have your best interests in mind.”
“Now you’re just kissing ass,” I quipped, plopping down in front of him.
“I’m not, but I will be later,” he purred, winking when I flashed him the side eyes.
I didn’t even bother arguing with him because, once again, he was right. He knew it, I knew it, even you know it. The man was impossible to deny. Not that I ever wanted to deny him, but if I did, he could sway me otherwise with a simple swat to my ass.
We sat in silence as he pulled the roll of tape out from his bag and began expertly wrapping my hands. It’d been so long since we’d done this, the feel of it secured around my palms reignited that unease I’d felt when we first walked in. My heart rate spiked anew as I looked around the octagon.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Seriously, what the hell was wrong with me?
“You’re overthinking,” he commented abruptly as if he’d just been in my head.
“How did you…”
“You’re too quiet, kitten, and too quiet means you’re fixated on something; which, by the way, you’re worried about for nothing.”
“How are you so sure? I haven’t stepped foot in a cage since November. As in, six months ago,” I argued, because how was he not concerned about this either?
I went from training daily and fighting twice a month for six months out of the year, to two or three days at the gym, with no ring time. Did he not think such a drastic change in my schedule could affect me negatively? Was he really that confident in me?
“Because you don’t just forget how to fight. It doesn’t work like that, baby. I think what you have forgotten, though, is how long you’ve been doing this,” he said, ripping the tape from the roll and securing the end in place. Then he pulled my training gloves from my bag and slipped them on for me.
“I haven’t forgotten.” I flexed my fingers. “The timeframe only adds urgency to the matter.”
“To you. But this brief hiatus will have done you good. You’ve given your body adequate time to heal, even from the tiniest injury. The minute we get started, instinct is going to kick in like a motherfucker, and you’re going to kick my ass. Just watch.”
This man...
He really was that confident in me, and the more I looked at him, the more I felt like my heart would explode. I shot out toward him uncontrollably, taking his face in my hands, a small smile painted on my lips. And then I kissed him, his mouth quirking into a grin beneath mine.
“What is this for?” he asked, guiding me into his lap.
“Just for you being you. It’s times like these that remind
me how lost I’d still be without you.”
A hushed laugh left him, his hands roaming up to my waist. “Can I ask you something?”
“Always.”
“Why me? We’re closing in on that year mark, and I still wonder sometimes…”
“Because you saw me when I was invisible to myself,” I confessed. “All of me. Not the me I showed to the world.”
“It wasn’t that hard,” he whispered, brushing his lips against mine. “I knew there was much more beneath the claws.”
Kiss.
“Claws I need reacquaintance with,” I whispered back, to keep us both in check.
“I think we can handle that. You ready?” he asked, and I nodded.
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Then let’s do this.”
A light tap to my ass started me off him until he reached for his bag. I caught him by the chin, stopping him halfway, forcing his eyes on me. I knew he’d probably say no, but...
“No mitts today, please?”
He sighed, completely defeated by the pout curling my lips. “Fine. Just for today, though. You know I don’t like it.”
“Yes, Coach Carr, I know,” I cooed, kissing him one last time. “Thank you.”
We made it center ring, and I took a moment to let it sink in. There was an instant high that took over me at the sight of the mat beneath my feet, at the chain link walls around us. I’d missed this, more than I could’ve imagined.
“Don't hold back, baby,” Knox said suddenly, falling into stance. “Let me have it.”
Oh, I'll let you have it alright.
Especially with no mitts. We could spar, properly, and that’s exactly what I needed to get my head back in the game. Even if he didn’t actually punch back, just seeing him without those mitts was bound to make a difference; at least for me, anyway.
“Ding, ding!” He grinned, waving his hands, the simple act spurring me into action like a bull to a red cape.
I started around him; prowling, as Bernie used to call it, scoping out his energy. He was focused, waiting for me to strike, his arms acting as a shield as he bounced around the imaginary circle with me. From my peripherals, I caught on to the fact we had spectators who’d taken a seat on the ground. Just knowing there was even one person watching flipped the switch, and like reflex, out came The Lioness from her cage, ready to devour her prey. The challenging look in his eyes unleashed the claws and I pushed off the mat, throttling toward him, my fists flying out with such speed, I clipped him right in the jaw before he could cover. Hisses of pity resounded from our audience as he stumbled back, stunned, shaking his head to clear the haze of pain I’d unleashed without warning. I almost felt bad, and I probably should have, but I didn’t. He said don’t hold back, right?
Right.
So, I charged out once more, shooting him back into the chain links with a growl. A winded breath escaped him, yet again stunned by my assault, but he was quick to shield himself this time, blocking every single one of my hammer punches. I kept at it in a frenzy and because I was so focused on getting one in, I didn’t notice when he managed to snake an arm around my waist and drop me onto the mat, until I heard the growing crowd cussing in surprise.
“Is that all you got?” he tested, looming over me with a grin.
“Not in the slightest,” I growled, deflecting his jabs with my feet.
Took him a minute to work it out, but when he did, he realized he wasn’t getting anywhere near me if he wasn’t on me. His conclusion was correct; his solution, however, was not. If it were better calculated, his approach might’ve worked, but the simple jab and mount was pointless. The second he lowered himself in an attempt to pin me, I bucked at his chest with the balls of my feet, knocking him right back into the cage. He hadn’t succeeded, but still he smiled, a prideful gleam twinkling in his eyes as he caught his breath.
I guess old habits really do die hard, especially when the fire burns deep in your soul, and you have a man whose confidence in that fire never falters...
After our session, Knox insisted on a thorough massage. I’m sure he thought I’d protest against it, but I didn’t, at least not for today. As much as I loved his massages, I took care not to make them a habitual thing. Why? Because personally, I believed routine-incorporated massages made your body dependent on them, and I didn’t want my performance to be affected by luxury. If anything, indulging in them only twice a month was often the recharge I needed between fights. Thankfully, Knox was one-hundred percent on board with my decision. He was fully aware some athletes required more after care, but agreed I wasn't one of them. Although my workouts varied, some harder than others, I always stretched myself out and took a long, hot shower – or sometimes an Epsom soak – when we returned home. That, combined with a well-balanced diet and sufficient rest, left me virtually nothing to worry about.
Knox locked the door behind us as I slipped out of my sneakers, whipped my sports bra over my head, and shimmied my track pants down my legs, leaving me in nothing but a thin black thong. Blue eyes took me in hungrily, but quickly refocused on the task at hand, coming up to meet my amused stare from the short distance separating us.
“Stop eye-fucking me, and get back to work, coach,” I snickered, relishing the feeling of being so highly coveted as I slid onto the sheet-fitted table.
Seeing the want, the need for me, in his eyes never got old. Probably because I needed him something fierce, too.
“This view doesn’t make it easier, you know,” he admitted, as he pulled back the zipper on his duffle and retrieved the miracle pouch.
“It could be worse. I could be a total tease and prop my ass up, maybe spread my legs too.”
“True, but you’re at least acknowledging you are in fact a tease, right?”
“Oh, hush, or I’ll torture you for the rest of the night.”
Smack!
I yelped and squeezed my eyes shut as a twang of delicious pain spread across my backside. Knox hummed appreciatively with a wicked grin and sidled closer, looming over my vulnerable form in delighted authority.
“Close your eyes and take a deep breath,” he ordered, so I did, the scent of his secret potion filling the air around us as he poured it into his palm. It was refreshingly minty, with the relaxing hint of lavender tied in too, undertones of sweet and spicy ginger playing in as well.
The second I exhaled, his hands were on me, his thumbs kneading into my neck, then down to my shoulders, loosening each muscle with skilled care. The more he kneaded, the warmer the oil became, my body falling lax against the sheet, allowing him to press deeper still.
Taking his sweet time, Knox paid special attention to the bigger knots found on his descent down my back. Every now and then, you’d hear something crack, too, bubbling satiated moans from deep within me as I relaxed beyond belief. I all but curled into his touch, whimpering when he attacked the sore spots at the middle of my back and applied pressure with his elbows.
“Feels good, baby?” His voice was a husky purr, shooting a white-hot shiver down my spine.
I nodded with an “mhmm” in tow, goose bumps skittering over my skin as cool bursts of relief rushed through my being in the purest of highs.
Lower and lower he went, working meticulously around the tailbone of my spine until his hands slithered over my ass – giving each globe a squeeze and a light slap – en route to my legs.
Or so I thought.
Deft fingers briskly snaked their way to my sex, stroking me with leisure over the small scrap of material shielding her from his greedy eyes.
“Not a pressure point, coach,” I chided him, hissing when his thumb hooked under my panties, making direct contact with my lips.
“You're right, but she called me. I couldn't just ignore her,” he said, hypnotized by the show he’d started.
“She called you?”
“Yep.”
“I didn't hear a word.”
Knox chuckled, the sound deliciously dark as he stepped around to the end
of the table. “That's ’cause her cry is only meant for me, baby.”
The next thirty seconds went by in a blur. Literally, it all happened before I could blink. One second, I flat against the sheet, and the next, I was on my knees, ass in the air, my thighs in his grasp. An audible gasp left me and I peeked over my shoulder to find Knox leaning over the table, his plump lip caught between his teeth.
His eyes met mine as a Cheshire smile split across his fine face. “Slide ’em to the side, kitten.”
He had said he’d be kissing my ass later, right?
This, apparently, was later, and I had no intention to stop him, obliging to his command without hesitation.
Talk about your literal happy ending.
They were gone. Finally. I’d sent security away with a long list of items I supposedly needed from the grocery store, under the notion I wasn’t feeling well. Whether they believed me or not, Dimitri paid them not to ask questions. So, they didn't. Ever. Typically, Dima and Maksim would've driven me to and from wherever I needed to go, along with escorting me around, too, but I had other plans for the day. Plans that weren’t any of their business. Despite the fact I was alone in the penthouse, I needed to be cautious and stay vigilant of the time. If they happened to come home suddenly, and I was none the wiser to their presence, it could screw everything up. Then all of this would have been for nothing.