Fearless: a Sports Romance

by Amarie Avant

Vassili

  Three months later…

  I fractured my patella 215 days ago. Who am I kidding? Getting back in the cage is in the card but I’m not quite ready. Yuri asked me if I was sure a million times before securing the battle in Brazil. The current ‘favorite’ is Tiago. He’s got the right stats for eyes to follow. But who the fuck am I kidding? Everyone wants to see the ex-welterweight champ gun for his belt and anywhere I choose to start would work.

  It’s just that I really ain’t ready. My knee hurts, but that shit will stay between my new doctor and I. He’s paid well for meeting me before training to inject cortisone into my knee. One day, I’ll be good without it.

  Today, Zariah is in one of her bitch moods. Natasha’s first birthday is around the corner. We all know I love my baby with all my heart. But c’mon. Zariah’s recorded these old shows from this dude named David Tutera. Taryn said the guy gave her a party once, a party that she and Zariah couldn’t shut the fuck up about when they talked. Now, Zariah’s auditioned teeny bopper singers and a chef who makes gourmet kiddie food.

  “Oh I have to invite my friend, Danny,” Zariah says scanning over the birthday list while we sit at the kitchen table. Taryn and Yuri just left, they’d stuffed these bags that Zariah said were for favors.

  “Who?”

  “Danash… after a half year, I still can’t pronounce her name. Danny hasn’t decided to divorce, but we meet for coffee sometime.”

  I’m halfheartedly listening to her, because she keeps cramping people onto the list. The party will be at Samuel’s mini mansion. We have a big enough backyard, but Zariah said he has a larger yard, and less of a pool. The way she’s going at it, Samuel’s place won’t work soon. There’s one person she can take off the list. That motherfucking dad of hers. But I choose my battles. We both have been choosing well these days. I squeeze the ‘Captain’s of Crush’ trainer in my hand, letting my forearms flex and relax rapidly. Don’t start shit, Zariah… We’ve been good the last few months, but the stress of Natasha’s first birthday has me flexing swiftly.

  “Vassili, not everyone is highlighted.” Zariah’s eyebrows crunch together.

  “We ran out of invitation cards, Zar, be easy.”

  Her gaze zeros in on my rapid movement. “Why didn’t you order more?”

  “Don’t start, Zariah, I don’t need the Q and Q. Have a little faith, and assume I made an attempt.” I sat on the phone, passed around from worker to work at the special printing place to request more invitations. Now she mentions some bitch named Dana when I would rather her be a tax attorney. It’s much safer than a family attorney, but I won’t argue with her on that as she only works three days out of the week.

  “Did you? Or have you been isolating various parts of your anatomy all day. I spent all day searching for the plush elephants to add to the favors. There are a hundred favors…”

  I glare. Fuck favors. I don’t understand the necessity.

  “… which means I went to twenty something stores to get enough of them. Then I come home, Natasha’s laughing her ass off while you work out.”

  My head cocks to the side. That was yesterday. She just got home. Oh, I got it. “You worried about my fight with Tiago?”

  “No.” Her response is too quick.”

  Don’t lie. “Beautiful, you just went postal on me. Are you worried?” I’m sympathetic, because I feel guilt for lying. I haven’t misled Zariah since she thought Malich was my father. Now, she asks me how my leg is every morning, and I have to lie.

  “I am preparing for our child’s first birthday party, which is a few weeks away,” she says through gritted teeth.

  BAM.

  I place the grip strengthener on the table. There’s no need arguing with Zariah about how this is teamwork. For every move she’s made to make Natasha’s party a success, I have had to check off something on her ‘to do list.’ And my wife has a colorful, highlighted motherfucking ‘to do list.’ My tone is nurturing as I focus on what counts, “I will fight in two days, sweetheart, only God can stop me. But don’t be mistaken, you and Natasha are my everything. I’ve said that all along. Every morning before I train, haven’t I said that? When the fight is complete, I will pick up our little growing tumble weed and hug her tightly, then I will fuck her mother until all those stress kinks disappear.”

  She licks her lips, kneading the back of her neck. I stand up and go to her. Pulling out her chair, I kneel. My wife watches every move I make, worry sparked in her eyes. I love her, so I will do my best not to show weakness or pain. But there’s no way in hell I’m not getting into that cage this weekend. I push my hips between her thick thighs.

  “After I sex you senseless tonight. I’ll beat Tiago Saturday night. We finish the weekend out in Brazil with family. Once we return, we meet with that mudak party planner of yours, and choose a clown for Natasha’s birthday, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tomorrow morning, we leave bright and early. In seventy-two hours all the hard work we both have done, will pay off.” My forehead nestles against hers, I caress her cheek. The anxious lioness no longer seems caged.

  “I’m being an asshole,” she mumbles.

  Instead of agreeing, my hand roughly clamps the inside of her thigh, kneads the thick meat of it before reaching beneath her skirt. My fingers push aside her thong, plunging into her wet core. Her lower back curves on contact, she craves more penetration.

  “Wet and tight,” I growl, nipping her bottom lip.

  My fingers work her pussy.

  “Vassili, no more play. I’m a grown-ass woman.”

  My abdominals flex against the inside of her thighs as I laugh. “Maybe I’m fucking with you for being so mean?”

  “You know how I get.” She moans.

  “Yeah, after all you did for elephants and fucking favors, you know I haven’t been home sitting on my ass or sparring all afternoon.”

  “I know. I’m sooooorrrrrryyyyy.” She smiles.

  “You sorry?” My eyebrow cocks. “That ain’t enough.”

  She gasps, as in nanosecond, Zariah is off the chair. I’ve positioned her into my lap as I sit on the floor, with her legs straddling him. Shit, the dull ache in my left knee. “You want me to fuck that succulent cunt, don’t you?”

  She reaches in to kiss me.

  “Nah, not so fast, you are in trouble.” I hold up my fingers all glossy and wet. Zariah licks the pussy juices clean off. Her lips pulling me all the way into her mouth. “I will let you do that to my dick first, suck it all in your mouth tonight, and I’ll beat that pussy until you cry. You want that?”

  “Yes.” She sighs.

  “Undress first.” I hold out my hand, and we both arise.

  Zariah pulls out of her sleeveless blouse. I watch her every move, as she pulls out of her skirt and panties. All those dark brown curves surrounding a cleanly shaved pussy. In this instant, I decide to be an asshole, just a little, she deserves it and she knows damn well that she does.

  “Vassili…” Zariah sinks back down to the floor, glancing up at me, “please, can I suck your cock?”

  “You eat this cock and guzzle down my cum. Maybe you’re forgiven and I will beat that pussy for you.”

  She reaches out a hand. I slap it down. “No, touching unless it’s with that pretty-ass mouth, beautiful.”

  Flushed pink lips glide across my shaft. I brace my legs for her. Zariah sucks my dick like no other woman ever has. Her mouth is warm, cozy as it pulls the tip of my cock in. Zariah pulls me in further, sliding to the back of her throat. About seven inches, and the base of my dick is chilled, yet her eagerness is amazing enough. And then Zariah glances up at me. Ebony eyes searching for forgiveness. My knuckles graze across her cheek.

  “Wider, open wider,” I command, though there’s no doubt I’ll be banging her pussy in tonight. “You want me to beat the pussy, you’ll open wider.”

  Her moan vibrates against my steel shaft. This takes me to heaven. I tighten my hand into her thick, curly ha
ir. Helping speed her pace.

  Slurping sounds send my balls tightening up against my cock. “You can touch me now, Zariah, rub my balls, beautiful,” I order.

  Her mouth fucks me sloppy. All wet goodness. With her handwork, I’m arched down her throat now. My cock slides out of her mouth. Her tongue glides over my balls. She does her best to get the baseball sized globes into her mouth, then settles on sucking and licking, alternating from showing each an equal amount of attention.

  With those innocent brown eyes on me, Zariah’s leaves a wet trail from under each ball, to the base of my cock, then all the way up to my tip, before traveling back down again. She does this sequence until my cock is seeping with precum. My cock pushes against the back of her throat as she moans along with me. Then she takes my cock to the head once more. Alternating from attending to each of my balls, and sucking the life out of my head.

  “I’m gonna cum,” I growl, toes gripping. I swear her body shivers in anticipation while she works at my straining cock. She sucks harder. Her tonsils massages the head of my cock while her tongue swirls around the middle, and I aim down her throat, shooting a flow of cum straight to her tummy.

  Zariah

  Okay, so I went hard on him today. But my mind is consumed with Natasha’s first birthday and Vassili returning to the ring in less than two days. He picks me up into his arm, and tells me just how well I sucked his cock. Since my mom is down from Atlanta and out with Natasha, we hurry upstairs on the chance that she returns to the house, as she has a key.

  Damn, I didn’t quite consider that while begging for Vassili’s seed a second ago. In our bedroom, my hands squeeze against the underpart of the headboard as Vassili chops down my pussy, his tongue is licking and wagging along my lips. He sucks at my clit, skimming his teeth across it. Damn it hurts so good. Then he seeks deep inside of my, slithering his tongue along my core.

  “Damn,” I scream, “Shit, Vassiliiiii!”

  He squeezes my thighs in response, but doesn’t dare come up for air. My back is arch, ass tooted as he fingers my anus and drinks more of my cum. He gives such good head that I sniffle tears, screaming and crying while my legs shake, so badly I no longer can hold them up.

  Once I’m weak, Vassili’s muscular frame climbs on top of me. He slaps his cock against the inside of my thigh.

  “Best water I ever had.” His intoxicating Russian accent is so low that the sound of my heart beating in my ears dominates my hearing. He wipes the gloss from his lips with the back of his hand.

  I’m wetter than my wildest dreams when Vassili’s thick, veined cock slides in to my pussy. The length of him stretches me out so good. Now his hand slams down onto the top of the headboard, and I suck in a breath and grin. He clutches my calves over his shoulders and kisses the softness of my thigh while slamming into me. In and out he roughs my pussy so hard that the headboard slams against the wall with each thrust.

  “Yes… Lord… Yesss…. Vassili…” I scream until we’re slick with sweat and my voice cracks. He explodes inside of me, and I love the feeling of the never-ending squirt of his warm cum. It’s like he’s doped me up with his own dose of endorphins. Vassili sinks down onto me. I can hold his steel frame for a few seconds without feeling crushed, and it’s heaven. When he rolls over, I flop over, pressing my hip and leg over him.

  “I love you,” he murmurs into my forehead, kissing it.

  Warmth spreads across my mahogany skin and I smile. “I love you, Vassili.”

  He squeezes my waist.

  “Can you promise me something?” My breath brushes across taut chest muscles.

  Vassili nudges my chin. “Sweetheart, I’ve already promised you. You gotta believe me. When I get into the cage, if something happens and shit goes left, I will pull out. You and Natasha first.” He speaks of my biggest worry.

  Vassili squeezes my waist again. This time I nestle into him and believe it.

  ###

  Mom travels with us to Brazil to watch Natasha at the hotel during the match. Natasha receives her first passport stamp. Vassili had reclaimed his confidence during the weigh in the day before the match. For the most part, I enjoyed the scenery and a surprise trip to the spa Vassili planned for my mother and I. Then I had focused all my energy on praying for my husband before he steps into the cage. All I can do now is place him in God’s hands.

  Now my heart is lodged into my throat. I play with the cross pendant of Vassili’s necklace that he placed on me before I left him to warm up. Taryn is seated next to me, Yuri on the opposite side of her. To my other side is a Brazilian man, the entire arena is dominated by the natives, who have cheered on their own and booed the hell out of us.

  Squeezing the cross in my palm, I breathe heavily.

  “Zariah, Yuri says everything is going well,” Taryn tells me rubbing her hand along my arm.

  Like a bobble head, attempting to convince myself, I nod vigorously. When the referee stopped the fight, in the first-round due to a gash at Vassili’s forehead, the practitioner cleared him to continue. However, the blood flowing in his face triggers the distressing hopelessness I felt when he’d fought Gotti.

  “Yuri says heads are meant to leak. And girl if you keep at it, I’m going to make your ass sit in the middle so he can give you a play-by-play like this is your first fight.” Taryn smiles, but her attempt at a joke doesn’t help. “Stop worrying.”

  In round two, I’ve rubbed my hand over my face so much that the little makeup I wear is on my palms. Vassili’s forehead is dribbling with blood again.

  White noise fuzzes in my ears. I can hear Taryn ask where I’m going over the sound of shouting. The third round has just commenced and I won’t make it. I feel her hands weave through mine and we meander through the crowded walkway toward the exit. Yet it’s like I’m on the outside looking in as we pass through the doors.

  “What are you doing, girl? Get back into the arena and support your man,” she chides.

  I stalk back and forth near the entrance to the ladies’ room. Should’ve gone in there to hide.

  “Zariah! How would Vassili feel if he looks over and you’re not there?”

  I shake my head, lips pursed. “He’s in a zone, so he won’t even notice I’m gone.”

  “Yes, he will!”

  When I almost bump into two teen girls leaving the restroom, I stop the restless pace, hands atop of my head. “He’s getting tired, I can feel it. He’s hurt, and damn it, I feel every bit of his pain, Taryn, I can’t watch. It. Kills. Me.”

  My ears perk up. A rush of tears well in my eyes. The referee is questioning him yet again! The interpreter repeating each word. Karo, would you like to stop? Rings out over the loudspeaker.

  “Oh, God, oh God, I left for a reason, I can’t do this.” My stilettos falter, I grab onto my friend’s skinny frame, surprised that she supports me well.

  She positions herself before me and glares me straight into the eye. “Forget doubts, girl! Win or lose, you will return to that match, Zariah. You have to support him if you love him.”

  My lips tense as she tosses the last dig, but she’s right. I love him, and I’m supposed to support him. I finger pat the tears and mascara sliding down my cheeks, and follow her into the darkened arena. The lights are shining down on one spot. Vassili and Tiago.

  Jesus, give him strength. My husband jumps to his dominate leg. His left leg is forced forward, crushing against Tiago’s mouth.

  There’s a blanket of booing as the Brazilian falls to his knees. In a flash of an eye, Vassili is choking him out, and Tiago slides down to the canvas in a dreamless sleep. I run toward the octagon, shouting like a crazed lunatic as my husband straddles the cage. He’s tired and using every ounce of strength he has left. Happy tears warm my lashes as I place a hand over my mouth.

  He’s searching for me. A look of anger darkens his face as I push toward the security blocking the surrounding perimeter. I’ve gotta get to him and soothe away his disappointment.

  Damn, I shouldn’t
have left. Why didn’t I have the courage to stay!

  “Your badge,” Taryn shouts from my side as we’re both pushed left to right by those who’d like to congratulate Vassili.

  “KILLER KARO IS BACK!” An English announcer shouts.

  “Let her through!” Taryn argues, with the man as I fumble with the pocket of my pantsuit for the badge.

  Nestor helps me up the stairs, we are the last of his crew to enter his cage. Vassili’s hugging everyone with a hard glare. My stepping hesitates when he notices me. The dark cloud over his eyes dissipates. His shoulders sag.

  “Fuck, Zariah, I swear I wouldn’t have continued if I didn’t think…” His shouting is almost a whisper to my ear, with all the background noise. The large cage is decreased in size as more people step into it.

  “No, baby,” I kiss his mouth as he rubs the blood from his eyes. “You did great, Vassili, I love you. Nevertheless, I left for a moment, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry, Zar.”

  “I was emotional and afraid, we’ve only been married for a while, I’ll learn to do better. For a moment, I forgot that I had to be fearless for you.”

  Happy Ever After… For Now

  Author’s Note:

  A while back, as promised to my readers, I’ve steered away from cliffhanger endings. With this particular story, I had to finish it off with an HEAFN (Happy Ever After for Now) for Zar and Vassili. I really enjoy writing about them and learning more of how they love each other fearlessly. Falling in love with characters and having them stick around for a while is my favorite type of book to read.

  I hope you liked Zariah and Vassili’s story. Please write a review on Amazon letting me know what you think, and if you’d like to read the next part. Zar and Vassili had a good number of ‘ups and downs’ tossed at them during this installment. They’ll no doubt have more hurdles to jump once Anatoly is tired of waiting to visit with his new daughter-in-law and grandbaby. Vassili is going to flip when he finds out Danushka has started a “friendship” with Zariah without him being aware. Toss in Maxwell, who hasn’t played all his cards yet, and there will be more curveballs to come.