No Limits (The Fighter Series Book 6)

Home > Other > No Limits (The Fighter Series Book 6) > Page 13
No Limits (The Fighter Series Book 6) Page 13

by TC Matson


  She tosses her head back before throwing a piece of her popcorn at me. “Deal.”

  Goodbye, past. Hello, future. You look fantastic.

  “You’re the worst person to sleep with,” Scarlett grumbles, pulling the covers up to her neck. “You used to never snuggle. Now you don’t keep your legs off me. And, I’ll have you know, you’ve become a cover hog.”

  “Why are you complaining at this early hour?” I tease.

  She titters and rolls over, her hair in a messy slept in ponytail. “What’s our plans for today, cover hog?”

  It unleashes a grin from me. “Kyce comes home this afternoon.”

  “Don’t you have a hair appointment?”

  I sit up. “Yep. Feel like I need a good change. I’ve had my purple in for a while now. I need something new.”

  “Something new for something new. I like how you think, Jolie Newton. But for now, what’s for breakfast?”

  “You’re becoming difficult to live with,” I quip.

  “Right? Thank goodness we don’t have to do this daily.” She laughs as she gets out of the bed and ambles to the bathroom.

  She washes her face, brushes her teeth, runs her fingers through her hair, changes her clothes and looks like a brand-new person when she returns. In the kitchen, she opens the fridge, grabs the orange juice, pours two glasses and gets a banana.

  “When did you start doing healthy?” She peels the banana.

  “I guess when I realized my boyfriend is healthier than me?”

  “Your boyfriend. I love the ring to that. But seriously, you know you’re beautiful, right?”

  “Will you please say the word fuck? Just this once.” Too much of her sensitive talk in a twenty-four-hour time span has me feeling…well, sensitive. And I don’t like it. So I resort to averting to something safe. Profanity.

  She scrunches her nose looking at her phone. “Mom wants me to go with her to pick out a new couch.”

  “Didn’t they just get new furniture?” I ask, my confusion clear.

  “Mom liked the sofa so much she put it in her reading den.”

  “Reading den…” I shake my head. Scarlett’s parents are wealthy, thanks to her father being a big wig at some computer networking place. Her mother hasn’t worked since I’ve known Scar. After school, she’d have cookies, or cakes, or pies, or something sweet sitting on the counter for us and her husband. That man should have diabetes by now.

  But the thought of her mom swivels my thoughts and reminds me that I haven’t talked to my mother in two weeks. Which is kind of odd since she and I normally speak several times a week. She likes to call while I’m at work, always hoping to catch Jordon when she does.

  I dial her number. “Hey, Mom.”

  “Jolie. Hey, babygirl. How are you?”

  “Is everything okay? I haven’t heard from you.”

  There’s a slight giggle on her side and then a male chuckles under his breath, and mom shushes whoever it is.

  “Yes. Everything’s fine.”

  “Sounds like it.” I grin although I know she can’t see it. “Is that a man, Mom? Are you…Are you being a seductress?” I end with a laughing whisper that causes Mom to cackle.

  “Jolie.”

  “Hey, Momma C!” Scarlett yells out.

  “Tell my other daughter I said hello,” she hums. “So what brings me the pleasure of getting a call from you this early?”

  I glance to the clock on the microwave. Seven forty-two. “I didn’t pay the time any attention. I’m sorry, Mom.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes. Scar and I were talking and I realized we hadn’t talked. But don’t beat around the bush. Who’s there? Is it a man?” I lower my voice, mischievously playful.

  “Well…” She pauses. “Yes.” She finally answers and my heart does a back flip for her. Mom hasn’t been with a man since she left Dad. Well, not that I know of. She hasn’t told me of one, not like it’s any of my business, regardless of my prodding her to find new love.

  Mom’s beautiful. At sixty, she looks like she’s not a day over forty with dirty blonde hair, highlighted by silver wisdom, and a body I only hope to rock at her age. She never let herself go, even when Dad had the audacity to put his hands on her. She pulled her shoulder back and kept marching forward.

  “His name is Sam,” she adds. “We’ve been seeing each other for a month. I’d like for you to meet him.”

  I’m smiling so hard my face hurts. “Him meeting your children may end this parade you two are marching in. I mean, Jordon, all broody and moody. And me, all mouthy and things.”

  She laughs. Mom has always had a good laugh. “You act as if I don’t ever talk about my children.”

  “I wouldn’t if I were you,” I quip.

  “I’ll have you know I’m very proud of my children, broody and mouthy.” She snorts. “Besides, Jordon isn’t as moody now since he has Jenna.”

  “True. She must bake for him.”

  “That boy did always love red velvet cake.”

  “That’s because you dropped him a lot when he was a baby.”

  Mom bursts out laughing. “I never dropped either one of you. Although when you had colic, I thought about it.”

  It’s my turn to cackle. “Mom!”

  “I only thought about it, baby girl. Never did it,” she says oh so sweetly.

  Tears have formed I’ve laughed so hard. Mom wouldn’t hurt a fly.

  “I’d like to have dinner. Have you meet Sam. Would you be okay with it? I don’t want you to—”

  “I’d love to,” I interrupt. “If he makes you happy, doesn’t put his hands on you aside from the sexual ways I don’t want to think about you doing, and he’s good to you, I’d absolutely love to.”

  “I’ll talk to Jordon and we’ll set up a date. Maybe we all can bring our dates.”

  All…she knows?

  “You know?”

  I can hear her grin. “Oh, baby girl. I’m your mother. I know more than what I want to.”

  “BS, Mom. You’ve talked to Jordon.”

  “How I get my information isn’t any of your concern,” she says, humor in her tone.

  I overdramatically sigh. “I’m going to start paying Jordon to keep quiet. Like a mobster. You’re making me become a mob boss. Are you happy now?”

  “I am. As you are.”

  She’s waiting for me to spill the beans. She’s always been so patient, always sitting quietly for me to be the one to talk. Even when I was little, she never pushed for information. Nope. She’d pull her mom-guilt thing and sit with me, or bake for me, or just look at me. She’s a powerful woman. Dammit.

  “I’ve been seeing a guy for about two months. His name is Kyce,” I tell her…safely. Scarlett giggles on the couch and I shoot her an evil eye.

  “You like him?”

  “No, Mom. I don’t. I just spend time with him to buy some time,” I deadpan. “Of course, I do.”

  “Is he good to you?”

  “He is.”

  “Are you good to him?” Her question is weighted.

  “If you’re asking if the burn marks from Chris are holding me back, the answer is at first, yes. But not anymore. It was time for me to let go of it. Also, Kyce has shown me he’s a different kind of guy. I feel like I can trust him.”

  She hums. “That’s good news, baby girl. I’ve been waiting for someone to brighten your days.”

  “The sun does that.”

  “You know what I meant. Anyway, Sam has cooked breakfast. He cooks a mean scrambled egg,” she titters. “I love you, Jolie.”

  “I love you too, Mom.”

  We hang up and I feel…invigorated. Giddy, even. Telling my mom about Kyce is a big deal for me. Mom telling me about Sam is a big deal for her.

  Chapter 24

  My leg is burning, relieved the plane has landed. The entire flight, I was impatient and bounced my knee the whole time. The damn airplane wasn’t flying fast enough. This is the first time I’ve ever
experienced the rush of excitement to get home and see my girl.

  I’m fucking hooked. A made-man without any complaints.

  Ryker, Carter, and I move through the airport with our hats on, pulled low to help hide us. Ryker and Carter can get spotted in the weirdest places, like a fucking coffee shop where it’s all women who you’d think don’t watch MMA. Once they’re spotted, it becomes a mad house. Men and women will try to corner us, throwing themselves at the two fighters. You’d think they were A-class actors sometimes.

  I grab my phone to text Jolie.

  Kyce: I’m so fucking crazy about you. What the hell have you done to me?

  Jolie: Is it a bad thing?

  Kyce: It is. I have no fucking control over it. No fucking control. I’ll be home in two hours. Be there.

  Ryker’s feet appear in my vision. “How long are you going to stand there and look at your phone like a halfwit? I’m ready to get home to my wife and son, and the longer you stand here, the longer you’re becoming my road block.”

  I tuck my phone into my back pocket. “She’s probably dreading your return. Give her some extra time.”

  “So grabbing something to eat is out of the question?” Carter teases causing Ryker to snap a glare at him. Carter bursts a laugh, holding his hands up in surrender. “Grumpy bastard.”

  “I’m sure you’ve got snacks in your bag.”

  “I don’t have a cheeseburger,” Carter replies.

  Ryker’s lips tic, but they don’t raise. Carter’s right. Ryker becomes a moody bastard when he’s away from Whitney. He loses his playful side, well, as playful as my brother can get.

  Jolie’s sitting on the top step of my porch when I pull in. I growl, grumbling. She’s so fucking hardheaded. I gave her a key to my house, but she won’t use it. Why? Because it’s not her home, she says.

  Tossing my bag over my shoulder, I stride right up to her. “Stubborn ass. Open my door with the key I gave you.”

  Although she has her sunglasses on, I still see her rolling her eyes at me. “Hey to you too.”

  “I’ll do pleasantries when you open the door and let me in.”

  She sniggers. “Kyce, it’s—”

  “Open the door, Jolie.”

  She does, and I’m on her heels as we enter. Something’s different about her. My view cruises her body, roaming her every curve I already have memorized. Dropping my bag to the couch, I wrap my arm around her waist, twist her, and pull her into me. Fuck. I’ve missed her.

  “You took your purple out?”

  “Do you like it?” She runs her hand over her hair.

  Fuck yes, I do. “I do.”

  I slant my mouth over hers and kiss her. Slipping my tongue past her lips, I taste her and a growl rumbles from me. Her fingers slip into my hair and grasp the back of my neck, pulling me deeper. I inhale her. Devour her. And when I pull back, it takes her a minute for her eyes to flutter open.

  I smirk. “I’ve got you something.”

  Digging through the pockets of my bag, I pull out the long black box and hand it to her. Her eyes are wide as she studies it before flicking her nervous gaze back to me.

  “I caught hell from the guys but fuck them. It made me think of you.”

  As she opens it, her breath hitches and a smile erupts. She pulls the platinum necklace out, running her fingers over the Celtic heart pendant.

  My skin feels like it’s about to crawl off my body, but I like doing these things. Seeing her smile and light up… But when I got it, I didn’t think this shit through. I feel weak.

  I move behind her and lift her hair. “It’s your reminder that I’ll be loyal to your heart.” I clasp the necklace.

  She turns between my arms and I rest my hands on the curve of her hips. The love in her eyes, that’s enough to make my grown ass knees buckle. “I love how you do sweet things for me.”

  “I feel like a fucking sap right now,” I voice my thoughts. “It matches part of your tattoo and I need you to have a reminder that I’m your future.”

  Her smile is sweet. “I love you, you fucking sap. I love your sweet side and your rough side, or how you’re not scared to—”

  Nope. I can’t handle the sensitive talk right now. I shut her up with a kiss. A hard kiss. “I’m about to fuck you to get my man card back,” I rasp against her lips.

  Lifting her by the ass, she wraps her legs around me, her arms holding my shoulders as I carry her to my room. Just as soon as I place her on the bed, someone knocks on my door.

  “Fucking shit,” I growl. “Don’t move. I’m getting rid of whoever the fuck that is. Be right back.”

  I stomp, yes stomp, toward the door and yank it open. “This better be fuuuu—Mom?”

  She’s holding a cake and sporting a wide smile. “Everyone has traditions when they win. Ryker sees Gracie. Carter goes to an all you can eat buffet. I thought making you a cake could start being yours.”

  “I…um…”

  “It’s your kryptonite. Chocolate coconut with chocolate and coconut icing.” She holds out the cake container.

  Her eyes move to something off to the side behind me and her expression softens. “I didn’t realize you had company.”

  Yeah…I guess this is a good time to fill mom in on my girlfriend. I step to the side. “Mom. You remember Jolie?”

  “How could I forget her.”

  Mom rushes past me and pulls Jolie into a hug.

  “It’s nice to see you again,” Jolie tells her.

  “I didn’t know Kyce had company. Silly of me to assume not.” Mom eyes my girlfriend’s tattoo. “You had that covered the last time I saw you. Wow. It’s stunning. Did it hurt?”

  Jolie holds her arm straight to allow her to look at all the details. “In some spots, it was tender. I got most of it done when I was eighteen.”

  “My Kyce has a lot of tattoos too.”

  Oh, how she knows.

  I pull off the lid to the cake, grab a fork, and eat while watching my mom babble all over Jolie. They talk…and talk…and talk before Mom casts an approving glance to me.

  “Well, I’m going to go so you two can have some alone time,” Mom says and I want to groan. “Maybe we can get together soon and have dinner?”

  Jolie beams. “I’d like that.”

  Mom squeezes Jolie’s hand. “He’s rough around the edges, but he’s good at heart. Patience is a key with him.”

  “Mom…” This time I do groan. “Do you try to embarrass Ryker and Jackson, or do you just love to torture me?”

  Mom titters. “Just you. You get frazzled easily. Always have.”

  I chuckle as I hug Mom.

  “She’s touching your soul, Kyce,” Mom whispers. “It’s in your eyes.”

  “Yeah…” I say low for only my mother’s ears.

  The proudest, largest smile erupts on my mother’s face and it swells my chest, exploding my pride. “Dive, Kyce. Head first. Hold your breath and jump.”

  I kiss her cheek. “I have, Mom.”

  She pats my chest. “I know.”

  When I shut the door behind mom, I spin to Jolie, stalking her. She startles, jumping slightly, a playful glare in her eyes.

  “I love your mom,” she says, taking a step back.

  “As do I,” I follow her into the bedroom. “But right now, I need you to not bring up my mother.”

  Jolie giggles and dives to the other side of my bed. A game of cat and mouse ensues. After a few minutes of chasing, I catch her by the arm and yank her against me. Her breathy laugh evaporates, being replaced with desire.

  “I need…” I start, but stop, unsure how to tell her the scales are too far tipped to one side and I need to balance them.

  Her teeth scrape her lips. Anticipation swirls with angst. “I know.”

  Those two words set me off. I fist her hair, jerking her mouth to mine.

  My soft needs the hard.

  Sensitivity requires masculinity.

  Weakness demands the control.

  And r
ight now, I need Jolie.

  I tug her shirt over her head, rip off her bra, and squeeze her tits. My breath comes like I’m a fucking maniac, my chest rising and falling fiercely. Moving her hands behind her back, I secure them with one of mine and then remove her pants. She steps out of them, vulnerably naked.

  “If you touch me, I walk away.” My voice is a threatening low.

  Letting her hands go, they fall to her side, but she heeds my warning, watching as I strip of my clothes. I step into her, forcing her to fall back onto the bed and catch herself as I lean above her.

  “You bring out a side of me…” My voice is rough. “I don’t like feeling vulnerable, Jolie.”

  I push her legs open, spreading her more for me.

  “I don’t like to be controlled,” I growl, digging my fingers up and down her thighs, getting close to her pussy but keeping a safe distance.

  “I don’t…” She sucks a breath when my thumb slips over her clit to shut her up.

  I need this.

  “But you do,” I say. Slipping my fingers between her wet folds, I grin like a fucking devil. Dragging my hands up her ribcage, I wrap them around her breasts and knead. It’s mixed with hard strokes, but gentle.

  She’s panting, her hips rocking, begging for friction. I ease an inch of my dick into her and stop. She writhes, desperate for more. Her body begs for me.

  I wrap my fingers around her hips, leaning up, and pressing down. “You’re being impatient. What do you want?”

  She slides her hands up my arms. I cut my eyes to them. “My last warning. Don’t touch me.”

  Hurt and confusion stare at me, but she drops her hands.

  I jut forward, and she gasps. I fill her with a sudden thrust, rooting myself to the hilt. My dick throbs for more of her.

  “You have so much power over me. Always in control,” I rasp a growl. “You control my mind. My thoughts. My heart.” I swallow. “I’m always so fucking submissive for you.”

  Her head lolls back and forth and she clenches the sheet in her fists. “I-I do-don’t mean t-to,” she stutters. “I th-thought you said it was a go-good thing?”

  I drive into her a few times, holding her hips still with my grasp. Her body begins to tremble and I stop. Her pussy pulsates, her body tensing. Her breath is fast.

 

‹ Prev