Misadventures in the Cage

by Sarah Robinson

  The very sound nearly pushed him over the edge, and he sped up his movements, pounding against her as he carefully rubbed her clit. Within moments, he could feel her pulsing around him and she cried out.

  He didn’t need any more coaxing after that, his own climax hitting him just as hard, as he slammed his hips up against her and emptied himself inside her. He could still feel her contracting around him, pulling every ounce out of him that she could.

  When they were both fully spent, she slid off and fell onto the mattress beside him. Tugging the sheet up around her, she curled into his side and sighed contentedly.

  “Someone’s happy,” he teased, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and drawing her even closer to him.

  “Mmm.” She sighed again and tilted her head up to look at him from where she was resting against his shoulder. “That was amazing.”

  “Jos,” he started, trying to decide what he wanted to say. If he was being honest, he’d tell her that he’d loved the last few days with her. That they felt like a real couple—that she felt like she was his.

  That he wanted her to be his.

  But he couldn’t tell her that.

  The woman was a goddamn flight risk, and he had to tiptoe cautiously or he might lose her entirely.

  “Jos,” he began again. “I’m going to miss you being here.”

  She glanced up at him again, sincerity on her expression as her brows pulled together and a small frown played at the corners of her lips.

  “I’m going to miss waking up in your arms every morning,” she admitted, a slight red blush creeping up her cheeks as he stared at her. “It’s been really nice being here…being away from everything.”

  “Are you free this weekend?” he asked her. “I can come to Vegas.”

  She shook her head. “I work weekend nights, but I’m free next Monday. Mondays and Tuesdays are my days off.”

  “I’ll be there next Monday, then.”

  “Callan…”

  He put a finger to her lips. “I’ll be there Monday.”

  Her mouth twitched, the hint of a smile teasing. “Okay,” she responded simply. “I’ll see you on Monday, then.”

  The truth was…he wasn’t sure he could wait.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “You what?” Samson balked, looking up from his iPhone to stare at Callan.

  “I have a girlfriend,” Callan repeated, trying not to roll his eyes at his assistant’s feigned theatrics.

  “Damn, you hit things off with Michelle Rae that well?” Samson asked. “It’s supposed to just be a publicity stunt. You know that, right?”

  Callan shook his head. “Not Michelle. That’s over.”

  And man, was he glad it was. After all the hell Josie had given him last year about living authentically and not using her for publicity, he couldn’t believe he’d been roped into a relationship for the cameras. He couldn’t even believe he’d strongly considered giving that a real shot. He’d known immediately it wasn’t for him, but he’d stuck with it for almost two weeks…and why?

  He wasn’t sure.

  Losing in the championship fight had given him an entirely new perspective on life…on everything. Going down like that had awoken a fight in him that he hadn’t even known he had. He’d spent the last year—hell, maybe years—living in a play orchestrated by other people. He hadn’t been at the wheel of his own life. He went where Samson told him to go. He trained how Ferguson told him to train. He showed up where his schedule dictated he was supposed to be. He left every decision in his life up to his management and team.

  Being with Josie again—really being with her—was the first decision he’d made for himself in a long time.

  And he wasn’t letting go.

  He’d known the moment he saw her after their year apart that he’d never stopped having feelings for her. And now? They’d only doubled. He was bursting with excitement about being with her, and there was nothing that was going to change his mind.

  “Then who?” Samson asked, glancing back down at his phone and scrolling through. “Yeah, I don’t have anyone else on your calendar. Who the hell have you been secretly dating?”

  “Josie Gray.”

  Samson’s brows shot up. “The reality television star?”

  “She hasn’t been on television in over a year,” Callan clarified.

  “Yeah, she’s completely fallen off the map until a week ago when she launched her Instagram page again.” Samson held up his phone, showing her Instagram feed to him. “She’s already gained five hundred thousand new followers since the return. Her cred is going through the roof right now.”

  Callan hadn’t been watching her followers, but he wasn’t surprised. People had been upset that she’d disappeared. She was missed, and it made sense that her coming back would cause a big splash.

  “This is…this is great,” Samson said, his face lighting up. Callan could practically see his brain ticking into marketing mode as he went over every way they could exploit this situation. “You all have history, so the paps won’t doubt that it’s real. You also could get her to agree to go back on the show with her brother—and bring you on as a side character in a few episodes again.”

  “I’m not doing any of that.” Callan said, quickly cutting off his assistant. “This is real. And I don’t want it to become a public spectacle. I’m only telling you because I’m going to need you not to schedule anything for me on Mondays and Tuesdays from now on. I’ll be spending those days in Vegas with her every week.”

  Samson huffed. “Excuse me?”

  “She’s not a means to an end, Samson. She’s my girlfriend.” Callan wanted to make his point very clear. “And you? You’re to stay away from her.”

  “What? Why?” Samson looked as annoyed as Callan felt.

  “Because I don’t want anyone messing this up for me. I do a good enough job at that myself.”

  Samson laughed. “Fair enough. But…I like this one for you.”

  Callan just lifted a brow, looking for more of an explanation.

  “You’ve never really put your foot down like this before,” Samson continued. “You clearly really like her. Don’t let her get away…again.”

  “Thanks, Sam,” Callan replied.

  “Plus, just think of the press we could get over a wedding between the two of you…” Samson had stars in his eyes again.

  “Samson…” Callan cautioned.

  His assistant put his hands up. “Fine, fine. We won’t discuss it. Yet.”

  Callan laughed, shaking his head. “Anyway, can you book me a flight to Vegas on Monday morning with a return on Wednesday morning?”

  Samson nodded. “Got it, boss.”

  “Also, I need to send a bouquet of flowers to Michelle Rae with an apology note, just thanking her for everything and wishing her well in the future.”

  “What did you do?” Samson eyed him.

  Callan shrugged his shoulders, not wanting to say. “Nothing really, but I definitely hurt her. I want to try to make things right.”

  “The biggest bouquet they have, then,” Samson replied, ticking away at his phone as he began pulling up florist websites. “Anything else?”

  “You should book yourself a vacation soon,” Callan told him. “You’ve been working really hard, and I’m taking a step back for the next few months. So take advantage of that.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.” Samson grinned. “I’ll text Elliott right now. I’ll need at least a week off.”

  “Take two,” Callan insisted.

  After all, Samson did truly work incredibly hard for him. He hadn’t had a vacation in over a year. He needed the relaxation as much as Callan needed a break from him and this entire world. He was going to return to his roots…and his roots intertwined with one person and one person only.

  Josie.

  Chapter Thirty

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” Callan told Josie as he threw his arms around her and lifted her off the ground. He sp
un her in a circle, her knees bent and her feet up in the air. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until later.”

  “Well, I wasn’t going to let you taxi to my apartment by yourself,” she said, hugging him back with her arms tight around his neck.

  It had only been a week since they’d seen each other, but it felt like forever.

  Callan smiled down at her, appreciating the gesture she’d made to come pick him up at the airport. It was insanely early on a Monday morning, and being that this was her day off, he’d expected she would have slept in.

  “Come on,” she urged, pulling at his arm in the direction of the parking garages. “Let’s go have some breakfast.”

  His stomach growled in response to the thought of food. “I’m starving.”

  “There’s a little diner on the way back to the strip,” she told him. “It’s in the middle of Murderville and completely abandoned, but the food is phenomenal. It’s a little hidden treasure.”

  “Breakfast in Murderville works for me,” he agreed.

  Twenty minutes later, they were pulling off the highway next to a rundown mobile home on the side of the highway that had been converted into a diner. It was the size of a double-wide trailer, and the diner’s sign had fallen partially off its holder and was crooked. She wasn’t kidding—it really did look like a crime scene.

  “How did you find this place?” he asked as they walked in through the front door, a bell jingling overhead.

  “I desperately had to use the bathroom on my way back from the airport once, so I stopped here.” She chuckled at the memory as she retold it. “Everything smelled so good, I decided to have a bite. Never looked back.”

  Callan’s lips twitched, but he hid his smile. “Quite the stroke of luck.”

  They seated themselves, and in a minute or two, the waitress came over to take their orders. She was in her sixties, at least, but looked closer to eighty years old. Thick makeup coated her face, and she had long, false eyelashes that stuck out much farther than normal.

  “I’m Judy, and I’ll be your server today. How are you folks doing?” the older woman asked, pulling a pad of paper and a pen out of the pocket of her apron.

  “Fantastic, thank you,” Callan responded. “I’ll have the western omelet, and can you sub the home fries for fresh fruit?”

  Josie gave him a bewildered look, one brow higher than the other. “Judy, ignore him. We’ll both have an order of silver dollar pancakes—extra butter on top—and a side of crispy bacon and sausage.”

  Callan laughed and then shrugged his shoulders. “Well, all right, then. Let’s do that, Judy.”

  She nodded, writing down their order and walking away without saying anything.

  “Fresh fruit?” Josie balked, lowering her voice. She gave him a teasing grin. “Callan, we’re at a diner in a trailer—not the Bellagio. It’s full-fat diet or nothing.”

  He threw his hands up. “My apologies for trying to be healthy.”

  “I’ll forgive you this time,” she said with a laugh.

  Callan looked at her for a moment, taking in everything he could about her. Her perfect tight black curls were falling across her face every time she laughed. Bright-green eyes shimmered as she looked at him, and it was everything he could do not to get lost in them. Her lips were perfect and a soft brown that he just wanted to run his tongue across.

  “I’ve really missed you,” he finally said, his voice low and sincere.

  She tilted her head to the side, a small smile on her lips. “I missed you too.”

  “I know I’ve said a lot of things since we’ve been back in each other’s lives, and I’d understand if you found it overwhelming,” Callan started, feeling the need to explain himself to her. The urge to tell her how much she meant to him. “But I want you to know that I’ve meant every word.”

  “Callan…” A soft blush crept up her cheeks.

  “I never told you this…hell, we never really had the time before, but I don’t have any family,” he continued.

  Her brow furrowed, and she looked sadly at him.

  “I’m an only child. My mother died when I was in high school—ovarian cancer—and my father? Well, I never knew who he was. Still don’t. That secret died with my mother.” Callan sighed. “I never really felt like I had a place I belonged before. A home. So I built my own home and my own family of friends. I tried to build a life that was so grand, so successful, that I wouldn’t even have time to think about what I was missing.”

  “I’m so sorry, Callan,” Josie said, reaching out a hand across the table to squeeze his.

  He intertwined his fingers with hers. “The reason I’m telling you this, Jos, is that I don’t feel that way anymore. It happened instantaneously, to be honest. Last year, when we first met…when we first buried a sex doll together…”

  Josie laughed. “Oh, my God, I forgot about that. Poor Sienna.”

  Callan smiled, remembering the insanity of that moment. “When all of that happened last year, I felt at home. With you, Jos, I began to realize…home isn’t a place or something you’re born into. It’s a person. And for me? It’s you.”

  Tears welled on Josie’s bottom lashes, but she batted them away and sniffed. “Callan…”

  “You don’t have to say anything in response,” he assured her. “I don’t need to know how you feel…yet. Take your time. I just want you to know that when I saw you again, after all this time, it hit me. I made a huge mistake letting you walk away last year. I should have chased you. I should have told you we could have made the distance and careers work. I’d make anything work…just to be with you. I love you, Jos.”

  She didn’t respond, but she squeezed his hand across the table. “I can’t wait for the next two days with you, Callan. And even more…”

  Leaning forward across the table, he kissed her softly. And this time? He wasn’t ever letting go.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  One month later…

  “This is enough,” Callan said, tossing his shirt with force into his suitcase. “I’m not doing this anymore.”

  Josie looked up from where she was seated on the bed, reading a book. She truly had no idea what he was referencing. He’d been packing his small suitcase for the drive back to Los Angeles tomorrow morning, when he’d suddenly stopped and started growling, pacing back and forth.

  “What?” she asked, hoping for clarification.

  “I can’t do this anymore,” Callan told her. He picked the suitcase up off the bed and placed it down on the floor, zipping it closed. Standing back up, he stared at her with his hands on his hips. “This is now the fourth time I’ve been to Vegas this month, and we get two days together, and then…that’s it. On to the next week.”

  She swallowed hard, putting down her book. “Callan…what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that I can’t keep doing this back and forth,” he reiterated. “I’m standing here packing my suitcase for the billionth time this month. Seeing you once a week and then not again for another five days. It’s torture.”

  She scrambled to the edge of the bed to sit next to him as he sat down on the mattress. “I know it’s not ideal…but we said we’d make the long-distance thing work.”

  He shook his head. “I know we said that, but I just can’t handle it. I need to be with the person I’m with. I need to see you every day. I need to be able to hug and kiss and everything that comes with being in love.”

  A lump began to form in her throat as she realized what he could be saying. “Are you…are you saying you no longer want to be together?”

  Callan whipped his head around to face her, his brows scrunched together and a confused look on his face. “What? No. The opposite. I want us to be together all the time.”

  “Oh.” Well, that answer was a lot better than she had expected. It was also impossible, but she wasn’t about to burst his bubble.

  “That’s why…I’m going to start looking at houses in the area,” he said. “I’m going to put th
e place in Los Angeles on the market and move out here.”

  Her jaw dropped, her mouth falling open.

  “That is, if you’re okay with it,” he clarified. “I want you to be one hundred percent on board and part of the real estate process with me, because…well, I’d like you to move in with me.”

  If her jaw hadn’t already been on the floor, it would have been now.

  “You want me to what?”

  He turned to face her, taking her hands in his. “I want you to move in with me.”

  Her eyes widened. “Callan, we…we just started dating.”

  “Have we?” he asked. “I know it’s technically been a month, but it feels a hell of a lot longer than that. It feels like over a year, because in some ways, it has been.”

  He had a point there, and she knew it. Hell, it felt like even longer than that. He felt like a part of her life, a part of her.

  “I guess it’s not that crazy…” she admitted finally, trying to tame the small smile that was creeping up at the corner of her lips. “But what about your work?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “The training center is here. All the major fights are in Vegas. The other ones I would travel to the same as I travel now.”

  “But what about your reality television career…”

  He’d been appearing in the occasional reality television show here and there over the last year—usually on the arm of one of the girls in the show itself. She’d been keeping tabs on him, even though that wasn’t part of her career anymore. Sure, it sucked to see him so often with women, but it wasn’t until Michelle Rae that he’d actually been spotted in public with any of them. So she’d known it was just an act for the show—something she was quite familiar with from her previous life.

  Callan laughed, his face splitting wide into a grin. “This will be the perfect excuse to get the fuck out of that shit.”

  “Oh, yeah?” she teased, poking his side. “You’re not all about the glitz and glamour of Hollywood anymore? If I remember correctly, that’s all you wanted from me last year.”