by Anne Mercier
“How’d it go today?” Linc asks as we’re seated at a table in a private alcove of El Viejo Restaurante, one of the more up-scale Mexican restaurants.
“We tried hypnosis. It’s not at all what I thought it’d be like,” I admit.
Linc takes a large drink of his ice water with a slice of lime. “How so?”
“Well, I wasn’t completely ‘out’ like it looks in movies and shit. I was just super relaxed, my mind blank except for the sound of Joan’s voice and her suggestions.”
“Suggestions for…?”
“To lessen the intensity of the bad memories. I want more times like we had the other night.”
He nods, taking a chip and dipping it into the salsa.
“Coach is going to kick your ass for eating those chips,” I remind him.
“Nah. I work it off. Besides, I’ve been doing extra for my work out anyway. I’ve been swimming every day. It’s relaxing, and it works more than one group of muscles at a time,” he informs me.
“That’s good. What’s even better is the water being warmer than the air. This is our coldest time of year.”
“March in New York is snowy and, on average, anywhere from the negative temps to a max of twenty. I’ll take your ‘cold’ sixty-degree temps.”
“I miss snow. We should head to the mountains for a weekend before it all melts.”
“I’d love that. I could use a break, and I have a feeling we’re going to need one after tonight.”
I look out the window across the room where the paparazzi are pressing their camera lenses as close to the glass as they can to try to find us in here, but the windows are tinted so it’s not possible.
Linc watches as I eat another chip.
“What?” I ask.
“How do you not get fat?” he lets out a chuckle.
I shrug. “I don’t know. I’m active. I work out a couple times a week.”
“Yeah, but you eat more than your weight in food in a week,” Linc teases.
“Exaggerate much?”
“I’m not sure I am. Truly. And what you eat is so fucking unhealthy most of the time. Cookies. Cake. Chips.”
“You’re just jealous you can’t eat like I do. It’s not my fault you chose to be a fighter, you know,” I chide.
“You’re a dick,” he says with a laugh. “Yeah, I wish I could sit down and eat an entire cake like I used to, but now—especially now—I need to stick to my regimen.”
“You got in? Already?”
He nods.
“Congrats, babe. I’m so proud of you.”
“I don’t know when I’ll be put in for a fight, but I’m at least on board.”
We’re half-way through our meal when I hear it.
Click. Click. Click.
“Motherfucker,” Linc curses.
I flag down the waiter and request to speak to the manager. Within minutes he’s there.
“The gentleman two tables over is paparazzi, and he’s been taking our photos for the last few minutes. We came here because we’re normally guaranteed privacy,” I tell the manager.
“I apologize, Mr. Ashcroft. Mr. Ramirez. I’ll be sure to take care of this immediately. There are no paparazzi cameras allowed in here. I’d like to pay for your dinner personally,” he offers.
“That’s not necessary,” I reply.
“I insist, sir. I want you to know we will always do our best to ensure your privacy.”
“Thank you. We know, and we’ll come back. I just want to see you kick that asshole out of here after wiping his camera clean,” Linc tells him with a smirk.
“It will be my pleasure.” The manager is a large man, well over six feet, and he’s not one of those lanky tall men either.
“I’m already hating this shit,” Linc admits.
“Me too, but it’s our life. It will always be this way, especially when the news breaks out that you’ve moved up.”
“I know. But it’ll die down fast, I’m sure.”
Yeah. I’m not at all happy being this exposed, but Linc is worth it. I just wish we hadn’t waited so long. Hell, our relationship is bigger news than Xander and Tera who just made it public and had an interview with Rolling Stone.
I sigh.
Xander eats up this kind of attention. It makes me want to throw up.
“You alright, babe?” Linc asks.
I nod. “Yep. I’m good. It’ll be a couple months, then someone more note-worthy will do something and we’ll be long forgotten.”
“Exactly. Until then, let’s do what we need to do to get through this.”
“If it gets too bad, we can always stay home,” I offer.
“In bed. I know you were going to finish that sentence with ‘in bed’, right?”
I laugh. “Absolutely. Where else would I want to be?”
9
LINC
Okay, so I admit that Kiki is scarier than Kadi. She’s always everywhere and somehow, for being so young, she knows things. Way too many things. And her stare. It makes me want to run in the opposite direction. None of the other kids give me this feeling. Just Kierah.
I can remember the first time she saw Tera. She ran into the room looking for her good buddy Xander, but when she saw Tera she stopped in her tracks. She ignored Xan completely and ran right up to Tera who was sitting on the sofa. Kiki’s eyes got wide and her cheeks puffed up as her tiny mouth formed a perfect O. Then she let out a breath and asked, “Who’s this?” in her little girl way. Xander told her it was Tera, his wife.
Kiki climbed right up on the couch next to Tera, kneeling at her side, and ran her little hands through Tera’s long dark hair. She looked at Tera and asked, “Are you Princess Jasmine?”
“Princess Jasmine?” Tera asked.
Kiki nodded, her curls bouncing. “Yep, from ‘laddin. She has long hair like you.”
“I’m not Princess Jasmine, I’m sorry. I’m Tera.”
Kiki nods again then raises up on her knees, grabs the sides of Tera’s face and sticks her own right in it. “I like you. You pretty-pretty. You can be my princess pal.”
It took all I had not to laugh.
“I’d be happy to be your princess pal, Kierah,” Tera replied.
Oh hell. Tera’s gonna regret this.
“It Kiki. I don’t like Kee-rah.”
“Kiki it is then,” Tera answered.
Since then, Kiki’s been Tera’s shadow. Xander’s a bit disgruntled. She was his pal, and now she’s BFFs with Tera. With Tera being six months pregnant now, she’s showing pretty good, and Kiki is constantly touching Tera’s belly, hugging Tera so she can press her ear against her tummy as if she can hear something inside. Who knows? Maybe she can.
Tera and Kiki sitting on the sofa watching some cartoon video is a familiar sight. I wonder what she’s got on today. I take a seat next to Kiki and look to the TV. It’s that puppy show. I swear she doesn’t watch anything else.
“Who’s your favorite?” I ask.
Kiki looks at me like I’m stupid. “All of them.” All that’s missing is the “duh”.
“Jeez, kid. Kinda harsh today, aren’t ya?”
Tera looks at me with a grin. “Don’t mess with her puppies.”
“Real or pretend,” Xander adds when he walks in the room. He leans down and gives Tera a kiss, and Kiki gives him the evils. That is, until he gives her a kiss too. Then all is right with Princess Kiki.
“I’m going to work out,” I mumble and exit the room. Hell to the no. I don’t want any kids like that—so headstrong. No fucking way. Not that Ethan and I can have them anyway. We could adopt, but… what the hell? I shake myself out of it. Why am I thinking of kids?
“Jesus,” I mumble just as Ethan walks up.
“What’s going on?”
“Babe, you don’t even want to know. I just scared the shit out of myself imagining having a kid like Kiki.”
Ethan blanches. “Take it back. Right now. That’s not even funny.”
“Right?”
/> “What made you think of that?” Ethan asks, still kinda pale.
“Kiki and her damn puppy show.” I turn to him. “It’s not that I’m against kids. It’s just that I’m against kids like that. Dude, she’s an entity unto herself. Serves Jesse right to get one like her after all the whoring he did.”
Ethan lifts a brow.
“What?” I ask.
“We weren’t exactly altar boys.”
I smirk. “No, but we whored with each other.”
“Yeah,” he says quietly, looking away.
“Stop,” I chastise. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking about your denial phase when you tried to bang chicks. Get over it, man. It was part of your healing.”
Ethan looks shocked.
“What?”
“I never thought of it like that,” he admits.
I grab his hand. “Do you really think I’d have stayed quiet about it if I didn’t think you were working through something?”
He looks so surprised and a little confused.
I smile softly. “Babe, I love you.”
“I love you too. You’re amazing, you know that?” he tells me.
“I’m not. I just understand what you need. I get you, E.”
“And you never complain.”
“Why would I?” I ask, genuinely confused.
“Linc, I’m a mess. Those times, after.”
He looks so sad, so anguished. It breaks my heart.
“E. Stop. I get it. I was there, remember? When you showed up at Xan’s. You don’t have to explain anything to me. There should be no guilt because of how you feel. Ever. I know,” I relay quietly, hoping he understands he never has to apologize to me for how he feels.
“I just…”
“Stop, just…” I tease.
He smirks. “I’ll work on it.”
“Good. Wanna come beat something up with me in the gym?”
He nods. “I could use a workout.”
“Then let’s go change.”
“That wasn’t what I thought you meant by workout,” Ethan says between heavy breaths.
I chuckle. “It wasn’t. But seeing you strip down got my dick hard, and I didn’t hear you complaining.”
Ethan turns his head to look over at me. “You’ll never hear me complaining.”
I wink and sit up. “Time to shower, work out, then shower again.”
I chuckle. “Two workouts, two showers. Want to get some Italian food later?”
Linc shakes his head but grins. “Just because you’re working out doesn’t mean you can carb overload.”
I stand up and walk past him. “Sure it does.”
We step under the spray of the shower.
“I beg to differ, but Italian sounds good. More public appearances,” Linc says none too happy.
“Yeah, better to get them out of the way now and let the drama ensue. Before you know it, they’ll have someone new to gossip about.”
I nod. “True enough. There’s always someone doing stupid shit in Hollywood.”
“Truth.”
10
ETHAN
“I think I’ve been photographed more the last couple of weeks than I have in my entire career with Falling Down,” I admit, getting a little pissed off about it.
“Relax,” Linc urges. “The more you react, the more they’ll hover.”
I sigh. “I know, but this is getting ridiculous.”
There aren’t just a few paparazzi as there were when we got here. Nope. Now there’s a swarm. Word must have gotten out we were here and now they’re here too.
“I’ve got a fight coming up,” Linc announces.
I lift a brow and look at him. “When?”
“Ten days. It’s unsanctioned.”
“What does that mean exactly? I know what it meant before you went legit.”
Linc shrugs. “Kinda like the underground. No commission. No official judges, just those who put on the show. If you want a doctor, it’s pretty much BYO. Only a few things are illegal.”
“So, basically you can kick the shit out of each other until you’re either dead or dying,” I scoff.
He nods, ignoring my tone. “I’m not worried. I’m up against a dude who hasn’t had a K.O. and likes to avoid a punch. He’s all about kicks.”
I wince. “You gonna break his ankle like you did that dude two years ago?”
He shrugs. “Depends.”
“On?”
“If he’s pissing me off or not.”
I chuckle. “So, that’s a yes.”
Linc chuckles in return.
“You’re so brutal in the ring.”
He shrugs again. “Gotta be. Or else I’d get my ass beat. Besides, it gets you hot.”
I smirk and take a drink of my beer. Him talking about me getting hot is getting me hot, and we just fucked four hours ago.
“That gleam is in your eye,” he teases.
I just keep looking at him.
“Keep it up and I’m going to drag you into the bathroom and fuck you against a wall.”
Now I’m hard. Hot, horny, and hard. My nostrils flare, and I can feel the flush of arousal climb up my neck and face. I stand up and walk to the restroom. It’s empty. I wait. It’s only a few minutes before he joins me.
The door closes, and he turns the lock. No words are spoken. None are needed. He slants his mouth down over mine, and the kiss is fueled by passion, want, and need.
My cock is hard as stone, and from the feel of his against me, so is his.
“Do you want me?” Linc asks.
“I always want you.”
“I want you to fuck me, E.”
It’s not often I top Linc, but when I do, it’s because he needs it. He needs me to pleasure him, to take care of his ache, to bring him the mind-numbing release he craves. I’m craving it, too. With everything going on, the fact that we don’t argue or fight about the invasion of privacy says everything that needs to be said. Instead, we lose ourselves in one another and pay no attention to the bullshit outside of our relationship.
I drop to my knees in front of him and unbuckle his belt.
“What are you doing?” Linc asks.
I look up at him. “Babe, if I’m going to fuck you, I’m doing it at home where I can do it right. For now…”
Before I know it, his jeans are undone, and I’m wrapping my hands around his cock. He’s long and thick, and so damn hard. I lean in and lick the tip of him, and he lets out a tortured groan, leaning back against the wall, his head tilted back, his eyes closed—he’s lost in bliss.
I take him in my mouth and suck him, just the way I know he likes. I reach between his legs and cup his balls in my hand, rolling them gently.
His fingers thread through my hair, and he moves his hips in time with my mouth. He never pushes too far, always just right. Making me gag brings flashbacks of a time I’d rather forget. One that I refuse to let taint everything I share with Linc.
He groans as I suck him harder, working him in earnest now, wanting to hear him when he comes, wanting to feel his body shudder, wanting to see the pleasure on his face and know I put it there.
I press just right the right spot behind his balls but not quite to his ass. He goes crazy when I work this spot. I rub it just a bit more, and he lets out a muffled shout, coming hard, into my mouth. I swallow but some slips out the side of my lips. Damn, he’s so fucking sexy.
I’m hard as granite, but hell if I’m going to waste it for a quickie in a restaurant bathroom.
Linc’s body goes lax, and I look up and meet his gaze. He smirks, trying to catch his breathe.
“If that’s the kind of reward I get for wanting you to fuck me in the bathroom, I’m going to offer more often.”
I chuckle, standing and walking over to the sink. I cup some water and swishing it in my mouth, rinsing, then spitting.
“You didn’t have to swallow,” he mutters, buckling his belt.
It’s my turn to smirk. “Lucy’d kil
l me if I didn’t.”
“You’re going to need to explain that.”
He looks so confused I want to laugh, but instead I just grin.
“You see, one time when Lucy was drunk, she told us that spitters are quitters.”
Linc howls out a laugh, one that has him bending at the waist and him clutching his stomach. “Jesse… he didn’t just get a kid like that, he’s got a wife like that too.”
I nod. “Dude, you have no idea.”
We’re laughing when we exit the restroom. Within seconds flashes blind us. Paparazzi.
I turn to Linc and give him a look that says, “Fuck”. He nods.
We return to our table, pay the check, and when we go to leave, they’re all over us. Asking personal things—private things.
“No comment. Move,” I growl. I’m not as big as Linc but I’m big enough to shove these assholes out of my way.
A black SUV pulls up and the door opens. Cage.
“Get in,” he tells us.
When the door closes, Cage levels us with his stare. Sera cringes.
“If you were anyone else, fucking around in a bathroom in a public restaurant wouldn’t make news. But you’re not just anyone,” Cage begins.
I don’t even try to justify what we’ve done. Why bother? The media has already condemned us.
“So, what? We can’t act like a normal couple?” I ask.
“No, you can’t. Not right now,” Cage replies.
“Fuck that. If I want to give my boyfriend head in a bathroom, I’m gonna do just that. Let them talk.
“Ethan,” Sera begins.
I shake my head. “No.”
“It won’t be forever,” she adds.
“God damn it!” I shout, my temper surfacing for the first time in a long time. “It’s bad enough I need to be in therapy for all the fucked-up shit, the god damn world doesn’t get a say.”