Everything’s settled with the police, and the man at the pool said he wouldn’t be pressing charges, but I know the press will be relentless. They’re always itching to vilify people, like bullies on a playground who’ve been given megaphones.
“I’m gonna head out.” I point to the door as Mitch takes a seat in his private living room. He’s wearing a black warm-up suit, and his face is ghost white, matching the rugs.
“Hey. You’ll be okay,” I say. “This will all blow over.”
“I’m done.” He stares at the wall. “It’s over. Just like that—a lifetime career is thrown away.”
“I think you’re just in shock. Give it time. The dust will settle and you can relook at your options. I mean, there will always be more competitions.”
“No. Not for me. This was it.” He shakes his head.
“But you’re only twenty-seven and—”
“Twenty-six. I’m twenty-six. And I’m going to be suspended. Maybe a year. Maybe for life. Either way, I’m out of the running for the Olympics.”
“Oh.” I take a seat next to him and place my hand over his. “I had no idea. This is awful.” If only I’d stayed home. If only I hadn’t let Georgie guilt me into going. “I know you really wanted one more shot at those gold medals. I’m so, so sorry, Mitch.”
He says nothing for several long moments. “I’m not. Not even a little.”
I crane my neck to see his face. Even with both of us seated, he towers over me. “Sorry?”
“I’m glad it’s over.”
“Errr…but you live to swim. You’ve put your entire life into it.”
“I know.” He runs his hand through his thick brown hair. “I fully believed that man wanted to hurt you. I didn’t know why. I didn’t care why. I thought I was going to watch you die.”
“I’m still not following.”
“After Miami, I was pissed at you for jumping in front of that bullet. I told myself it was because I wasn’t worth dying for, but really, I hated feeling so goddamned helpless. I remember losing both my parents to illness when I was little. I watched my uncle die. And here you come along to remind me I can’t do shit to save anyone, not even myself. Today reminded me that I am a fighter. I am willing to do whatever it takes to protect what I love.”
I tilt my head. Because it almost sounds like he’s trying to say… No. No. I refuse to go there. “What’s your point?”
He turns his entire body to face me. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve wanted you? How hard it’s been to stay away?”
I shake my head slowly, but I don’t speak. I’m unsure if he’s really saying what I’m hearing.
He continues, “I would rather spend the rest of my life loving you and missing you than know I never had the balls to love you at all. Which is what I’ve been doing, pushing you away and putting swimming first.”
“And now? Are you saying I’d come first?” It’s hard to believe from what I’ve seen.
“Yes. You will come first. And more importantly, it’s what I want.”
I swallow a weird lump in my throat. “You want to give up swimming? For me?”
“No. And yes.”
I lift two brows.
“I don’t want to give up swimming. And I won’t. I’ll keep doing it like I always planned—coaching, helping others achieve their dreams. But I want you more than I want anything else.”
“Why?” I ask, because it all feels so sudden.
“Abi,” he cups the back of my neck, “because I’d take our future, the potential of us for the next fifty, sixty, whatever years, over another four gold medals any day.”
I blink at him, pushing back the tears. This is not the declaration of love I dreamed of since I was a little girl, it’s a thousand times better.
Our eyes lock, and he leans in to kiss me, but stops short. “Oh, and Abi?”
“Yes?”
“Before I forget, thank you for saving my life. And I’m not just talking about the bullet you took. Or the power cord. Or the giant-knife-wielding senior citizen.”
I smile, and it comes from the deepest part of my happy soul. “You’re welcome.”
He kisses me, and it feels like magic on my lips. Love, coated in destiny and filled with the profoundest desire.
The warmth of his mouth quickly spreads through my body.
He pulls away, and we lock eyes again. I could stare at the green, golds, and yellows all day long, but more than anything, I love the way he’s looking at me. Like there’s nowhere he’d rather be and no one else he’d rather be with. Is this really happening?
“Can I take you to my room?” he asks. “I really want to finish what we started the night we met.”
“Me too.” Then again, had we slept together, we might not have arrived at this moment. I’m stronger because of everything I went through. And I now know, without a shadow of a doubt, Mitch will have my back and I’ll have his. No matter what.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Mitch
I carry Abi up to my bedroom, unsure of how to tell her what I’m thinking. It’s been a while, a long while, since I’ve been with a girl.
I hadn’t slept with anyone for months before I met her, and I haven’t since. I used my training as an excuse. Then my uncle died, and that killed my urges to get close to anyone. Or maybe I was just waiting for Abi. Maybe she’s what I’ve been looking for all along.
Whatever the case, she’s brought me back to the man I really am. Brave. Willing to fight for what he wants. Confident in his ability to make anything happen. Somewhere along the way, while being hunted like a prized elk, I lost the part of myself that gave a fuck about others. Self-preservation mode.
Yeah, sure. I also didn’t want anything interfering with my other woman: swimming. I worked hard to win her approval. I dedicated a good portion of my life to her. And when the most important thing in your life is perfect and makes you happy, you hesitate to ask for something better, something more. It’s asking for trouble.
But I remember my uncle once telling me that right now isn’t right forever. I think what he meant is that we need different things at different times in our lives. And moving on doesn’t signify that those endeavors were a waste of time. No. They were exactly what you needed at that point in your life. What’s wrong is not being able to let go. It’s hanging onto a dream after its expiration date. It’s living in the past.
It took Abi coming along to show me that it was time to find a new dream and step down from the starting block so others can have their moment in the spotlight.
Yeah, I know I could stick with swimming for another few years after my suspension is over, but at what cost? Abi would be long gone, and she’s the one I want.
Might seem sudden to anyone looking from the outside in, but to me, love isn’t knowing every detail about a person. That’s for cowards. It’s about knowing enough to make you want to spend the rest of your life pulling back the layers.
I set Abi down at the foot of my bed, already feeling hungry for her. I’ve visualized this moment hundreds of times. The feel of her soft skin, the taste of her on my mouth, the sound of her soft moans.
She stares up at me with those light brown eyes. “Are you sure, Mitch? This is really what you want? Because if you’re just saying all this to get into my pants, then—”
“I am definitely saying this to get into your pants. But I plan to stay there…forever. Wait. That sounded weird, not at all charming and romantic like I hoped.”
She grins, and it’s the sort of smile that confirms what’s in my heart. I’ve made the right choice. Because in all my years, no medal has ever made me feel this good.
Abi
I have no words. Here I’d thought that Mitch would be devastated over that mess at today’s competition. Instead, it was some sort of epiphany.
I can’t lie. His one-eighty leaves me filled with skepticism. I’m not saying he’s a liar or playing me right now. But is this, am I, really what he wants? All I can say is t
hat once again, I’m willing to take the risk.
Because this guy? Good Mitch? He’s worth it. He’s the one I want, and if he’s real, I’ll take him.
Standing at the foot of his bed, he pulls my T-shirt over my head and then unbuttons my pants. I quickly help him out of his clothes.
Unlike me, he’s commando, and I find it sexy as hell. That, and he’s hard. I remember the feel of him sliding between my thighs, stroking me to the point of ecstasy with the length of his shaft. Now I get the full picture, and it’s impressive. Thicker than I can wrap a hand around. Longer than I think my body can accommodate. More sinfully arousing than I imagined.
I remove my bra, and he slowly pushes me back on to the bed. Eager for him, I pull him along by the hand, guiding him on top of me so I can get closer to those lips and the rest of him. His body is warm, but his kisses are hot and ravenous, filled with nips, sucks, and pauses at all the right moments. Our tongues stroke and slide while our bodies grind in a carnal, demanding rhythm. The only thing keeping us separated is my panties, and those are quickly losing their welcome.
His large hands begin to roam and explore, one landing on my breast, where it teases my taut nipple. A little tug, and I’m moaning for something more.
He takes the subtle direction like the pro that he is, and his mouth begins the trek downward, leaving a trail of kisses down my neck and collarbone until he finds my nipple.
He takes my breast and gently squeezes the soft mound, allowing him to bring more of the sensitive flesh inside his mouth. He sucks hard, sparking an intense tingle deep inside my womb. It’s deliciously painful, and I want more.
His mouth makes its way to the other breast while his free hand buries itself down the front of my panties.
His movements are sure and skilled because there is no fumbling around. The pad of his thumb presses over my c-spot, and I buck with pleasure, feeling his fingers plunge inside me.
He’s not gentle.
In fact, he’s rougher than I expected, and I moan from the welcome intrusion.
He breaks the kiss and stops moving his hand, but stays inside me. “Are you all right?”
I nod frantically. “Yes. Better than all right. Don’t stop.”
“Good. Because I need you ready.”
“I’m ready.” I slide my hand to the nape of his neck and smash my lips to his, grinding my hips into his hand.
“No,” he pants between kisses, “I mean for this.” With his free hand, he guides mine down to his solid cock.
Dear God. Did it get bigger? I look down at the gap between our bodies as I stroke the velvety flesh. I’m only able to close my hand around three-quarters of it. The soft head glistens with a bead of cum, and I use the tip of my finger to spread it over the crown in a circular motion. He groans with pleasure, and I answer by pushing my pelvis harder into his hand.
“You feel so good. So wet,” he says, his voice husky. “But I don’t think you’re ready.”
“I am. I promise.”
No matter how skilled he is, his hand can’t relieve the building pressure. I need all of him. I need to feel his thick shaft pushing me to my limits.
He rolls over and reaches into his nightstand. I hear the wrapper tear, and a moment later he’s back, settling between my thighs.
He takes my hands and holds them over my head. “Just tell me if you want to stop. Otherwise, I’m just going to fuck the hell out of you.”
Uh…sounds good to me? “Okay.”
It takes him just a moment to find my slick and ready entrance with the crown of his shaft. I urge him forward with a nudge of my hips.
Slowly, he pushes in just a few inches and pulls out. It’s not the hard, animalistic thrust I expected, and I get why. Every inch deeper he goes, I feel my body working to stretch around him. He takes his time, allowing my wetness to coat him and pave the way for deeper penetration.
I relax into it, enjoying every inch of sensation until it’s done. He’s deep. And it’s better than I imagined. My heart is racing a million beats per second, and I will myself not to come as he stays inside but stops moving.
Still pinning my hands over my head, he kisses my neck and lips and shoulder. He waits until I’m greedy for him, writhing beneath him, silently begging for climax.
“Please, please fuck me. Hard.” I need him to release this tension. Nothing else matters.
He pulls his lips away and smiles devilishly. “Only because you asked.”
His eyes locked with mine, he pulls completely out and then drives hard.
“Ohgod.” I gasp with pleasure, feeling him push against my womb and my g-spot. He withdraws and does it again.
“Faster. Now faster,” I beg.
I can tell he was holding back before, but with my reassurances, he gives it everything he’s got. The penetrations come fast and unrelentingly deep, making me question my own sanity. The pain and pleasure mix into a sinful cocktail of need. I meet him thrust for thrust, enjoying the feel of his balls slapping at the base of my entrance. I look down again at the small space between us as he lifts himself up with his strong arms. His abs ripple in time to his expert hips. His cock guides him to the perfect place each time.
I’m going to come. I don’t want to, but I can’t help it. He’s too fucking sexy. He feels too fucking good inside me. “I’m…I’m…”
He takes my cue and pounds me with merciless strokes. Suddenly, my entire body freezes. I’m outside myself, hearing my moans, but at the same time, my mind is lost inside the waves of pleasure racking every inch of my body. I’m here with him, but I don’t know where that is. Pure ecstasy isn’t a place. He lets out a deep animalistic growl and joins me as he comes hard. I feel his cock twitch with each euphoric contraction of my walls. I’m desperate for more. I want it to go on and on. I don’t want it to ever stop.
A few moments pass, and my orgasm melts away, leaving behind perfectly limp muscles—legs, arms, everything. “Wow. That was…amazing.”
“You feel so good, Abi. I don’t want to leave your body. Not ever.” His mouth returns to mine, administering deep lazy kisses. Still hard as a rock, he slowly moves inside me, triggering those little sparks of sinful contractions.
“I’m a woman. I can keep going if you can.” I’ve never felt this aroused, this hungry for a man. Especially not after coming so hard. But the wetness he brought out is proof of how he sends my body into pleasure overload.
He reaches down and grabs the base of his cock. “Let me just change my con—” He freezes and looks at me.
“What?”
“It broke.”
“Sorry?”
“The condom broke.” He winces and withdraws.
I look down at what is in fact a very giant cock with a little latex turtleneck around it.
“Ohmygod. What does this mean? What does this mean?”
“Just…stay calm. It’s okay. I’m, uh…let me just go take care of this,” he points to his broken prophylactic, “and we can…you know. Talk.”
I hop from the bed, grab my pants with my cell in the pocket, and rush into his bathroom, cutting in front of him.
“I’ll use the bathroom downstairs,” he says through the door.
“Oh-okay.” I try not to sound frantic, but that’s a fail.
I press my back to the door and remind myself to keep breathing. He didn’t inject you with poison, Abi. It was just a boatload of sperm. You won’t die. Don’t pass out.
The bathroom is all light gray natural stones with a sauna and dual-headed shower. If I weren’t so terrified of doing a face-plant on the floor, I’d be all over that shit.
I pace for several minutes, debating if I should call Georgie.
No. No. That’s silly. You’re a grown woman. You can deal with this. I start jumping up and down, hoping gravity might lend me a hand. Goddammit. I bet he’s got strong swimmers! I revert to trying to remember every urban legend, every home remedy, every…
Wait. I’m due for my period like…tomorr
ow. And mine is an anal-retentive bitch who believes in punctuality. I let out a sigh of relief. As long as he’s been safe and taking care of himself, I’ll be okay.
I clean up, splash some water on my face, and dry it with a hand towel before grabbing my phone.
The bedroom is empty. “Mitch?”
I wait, but don’t hear anything.
Knowing there are security guards patrolling the property, I grab the robe hanging on the hook in his bathroom. It drags on the floor as I take the stairs. My brain goes into nightmare mode. I know he said he went to use the other bathroom, but did he just run out on me?
“Mitch? Mitch? I swear to God. If you’ve just decided this isn’t going to work…” I enter the kitchen and find Mitch standing in a pair of red boxers, doing his very best to remain calm.
A tall man with white hair, whom I’ve never seen before, is standing with a gun pointed at Mitch from across the marble kitchen island.
Oh shit. Oh shit. This time, I’m fresh out of tricks. I have no gun, no vest, and I’m too far away to get that gun from his hands. My only weapon is my brain.
“Uh…excuse me?” I say with as much attitude as I can muster. “But who the fuck are you?”
The man looks at me like I’m a pest he quickly wants to squash. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Um…I’m here to kill this piece of shit, and I got here first, so you can just fuck off. The million dollars is mine. Also, I had to fuck the guy to get in here, so there’s no way you’re getting credit. Seriously, you try fucking donkey dick here, and tell me how you like it.”
“Who are you?” the man asks, this time sounding perturbed.
I am the newest superhero: Blabi. I have no clue what to do, so I talk until people get tired and walk away.
“Here. Let me give you my card.” I reach inside my robe and produce my middle finger. “I’m not giving you my name, you idiot. I’m about to commit murder. Hello…?”
“Are you a friend of Kristoff’s?”
Somehow, I feel like this is a test. But what’s the right answer? I don’t have a clue, so it’s wing-it time. “Kristoff doesn’t have any friends, but he does have a reputation to maintain. Especially now that he’s free and back in the game. Can’t let jobs go unfinished.” I jerk my head toward Mitch, who’s not moving. I’m guessing he’s trying to figure out what to do just like I am. One thing is for sure, we’d better do something fast because unless Sam’s night watch outside is dead, they’re going to spot us through that—
Battle of the Bulge Page 16