No Coincidence

by Tiffany Patterson

  ****

  Connor

  I started to chuckle at Resha’s ridiculous question, but once I pulled my head free of my helmet, and really looked into her enlarged eyes, my laughter ceased. There was real, genuine fear there. Those coffee-colored eyes closely examined one part of the building to the other, scanning the entrance for what I wasn’t sure.

  Stepping back, I glanced over my shoulder just to see what had her so damn spooked but there was nothing and no one there. No one besides the two of us. I turned back to face Resha to see her bottom lip tucked in between her teeth. She still remained on the bike, as if seriously considering whether or not she could drive it all on her own to hightail it out of there.

  Moving closer, I held out my hand, taking hers into mine. “If I wanted to kidnap you, there are a hundred other better looking places I could bring you to, a stór.”

  Her eyes dropped to meet mine and she visibly swallowed. Her fingers tightened around mine.

  “I don’t like abandoned buildings.”

  My eyes narrowed. Her words were laden with memories of the past. I could tell. “What’s got you to so spooked?”

  Her lips parted, but that was where whatever she’d been about to say died, in one breath. She shook her head slightly. “I guess it’s the attack. I must still be on edge from that night.” She blinked and gave me a bullshit smile as if that would explain her reaction adequately.

  It didn’t.

  Stepping closer, I took her chin in my hand and looking down deep into her eyes, searching for the truth.

  “The police reach out to you?” I questioned when I didn’t quite find what I was looking for.

  She nodded. “He confessed to trying to steal my bag and for hitting me. He’s being charged with assault and attempted robbery, I think.”

  I knew all of that already, having spoken directly with the police captain.

  Resha’s body shuddered. “I was just being uptight. I know you’re not trying to kidnap me. What is this place?”

  Her eyes skirted away from mine to look over my shoulder. I released her chin and stepped to the side so she could have a clearer view of the entranceway.

  “I own this building. It’s where I host my Williamsport Underground fights,” I stated candidly. I didn’t make it a habit of revealing my Underground fighting club to just anyone, especially women. Yet, I’d brought Resha here because if I was going to take pictures for my TKO products, this was the only place I’d do it at. And she was the only woman I’d allow in this facility to take said pictures.

  “Underground? What’s that?”

  “Let me show you.” Taking the large bag she carried from her, I hoisted it over my shoulder and took her hand in mine to help her off the bike.

  “You’re just gonna leave it parked out here like this?” she questioned, looking worried.

  That time I did chuckle. “No one’s touching my shit. Trust me.” I squeezed her hand reassuringly.

  “If you say so, cocky. But I better not end up walking back home.”

  “I’d carry you on my back before I’d let that happen.”

  She didn’t respond verbally, but I felt a shudder in her body followed by her lowering her gaze, avoiding mine. She was so damn sexy when she did shit like that. I wondered if she knew it.

  Nah, she doesn’t.

  Pulling my key free from the pocket of my jeans, I unlocked the heavy metal door that led inside, sliding it over before stepping aside to allow Resha to pass through. She gave me a hesitant look before something shifted in her gaze and she stepped over the threshold. I slid the door closed and locked it behind us and then did something I rarely do, which was to reach over and turn on the light switch, illuminating the entire first floor of the building.

  “Is that a boxing ring?”

  “Fighting ring,” I corrected, glancing across the spacious room to where Resha was pointing.

  I watched as her eyes and head circled the bottom floor of this abandoned-looking building. On the far side, a large, square fighting ring stood, surrounded by neatly arranged metal folding chairs for the audience to observe as fighters dueled it out. To the far right of the ring, almost toward the corner of the room, hung a punching bag, the middle of which had been repeatedly wrapped with duct tape. I’d been hitting that bag since I first went pro. Buddy had been begging me to buy a new one and I had, but for the other fighters to train with. I stood by old faithful.

  “What do those doors lead to?” Resha pointed ahead to the doors beyond the ring.

  “Changing rooms for the fighters.”

  She turned to me and placed her hands on her hips. Her fear had turned to curiosity.

  My eyes dropped to her hips, appreciating the leggings she wore that cupped those hips the way my hands itched to. I moved closer, as if being pulled by an invisible string. I stared as she sucked in her bottom lip, but fear wasn’t the motive this time around.

  “Is this like a secret fighting ring or something?”

  I snorted. “Not or something. That’s exactly what we do in here, doll.”

  Her nose wrinkled at the pet name. I swear I didn’t even realize I knew so many damn pet names until that moment. And hell, if I’d ever used any of them before.

  “You run a secret fighting ring?” She sounded mystified.

  I didn’t answer, but again I took her chin into my hand. “I thought you were here to take my picture not ask questions.”

  A small smile arose on her lips and my chest expanded. “I can do both, can’t I?”

  My eyes dipped to her lips. “You can do whatever the hell you want,” I growled before lowering my mouth to hers. Any thoughts of fighting immediately transformed to images of fucking. Resha’s thick thighs wrapping around my back as I pushed inside of her. The little mewling sounds that began pouring from her mouth, the same damn ones she made our night in New York, grabbed the attention of my cock. My entire body sizzled with need as my hands slipped in between the opened peacoat she wore and underneath the Nike sweatshirt she had on.

  Her arms reached up, her fingers intertwining in my hair, causing a few strands to break free of the band that held the bun in place. But before the kiss could turn into something else, I pulled back. Even though the chances of our being interrupted were slim since no one would be showing up here for a few more hours, I didn’t want to risk it. Not yet, anyway. Resha had been way too jumpy the moment we arrived. The last thing I needed was to be interrupted while stripping her naked and having my way with her and have her think it was some sort of set up.

  “Let’s get this shit over with before I change my mind,” I stated, peering down into her eyes, noticing the deepness of my voice.

  “We could if you keep your lips to yourself.”

  Reaching around, I slapped her ass. “Fat chance of that happening.”

  Regrettably, I moved back from Resha and started toward the ring, removing my leather jacket. “So how do you want to do this?” I asked once I tossed the jacket on one of the chairs in the front row and folded my arms over my chest.

  I grinned when I watched Resha’s nostrils flare as her eyes grazed over the muscles of my arms and chest.

  “Uh …” She cleared her throat and blinked a few times. “Do this … the photos, right. Okay, I bought a few of your products and supplements.” She began removing the familiar black and blue bottles of my TKO protein powder and supplements from the bag she’d brought with her that I set in the chair next to my jacket.

  “You purchased those?”

  She paused and looked up at me. “Yeah.”

  “Why? I brought plenty and have some in the back.”

  She shrugged. “I needed to see what the product was about for myself so I could come up with a concept for the shoot.”

  “You tried any of it?”

  She nodded. “The vanilla protein powder is my favorite. Do these supplements really work?” she questioned as she looked over the multi-vitamin bottle she held in her hand.

 
“Of course. I wouldn’t put my name on shit that doesn’t get results.” I took the bottle from her hands, holding it up. “But these are meant to be used in conjunction with a whole foods diet and exercise to get the best results. Most people who take supplements think just taking a vitamin of some sort will do all the work they don’t do.”

  “Maybe some people are just busy,” Resha retorted, snatching the vitamin bottle from my hand.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Touchy?”

  With one hand on her hip she said, “Not at all. I’m just telling you that not all people who take vitamins think they’re gonna do all the work. Maybe they have the right intentions and try to eat right or whatever but you know, life gets in the way.” Her nose wrinkled in irritation and her lips pursed as if she were defending her very way of life.

  I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You, a stór.” I laughed some more. “You don’t have to defend shit to me. I’m not judging anyone or anything. I’m just telling you how the product is made to work.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “That obvious, huh?”

  “Just a little.”

  She pushed out a breathe. “I get a little defensive about lifestyle choices at times.”

  I moved closer. “What for?”

  She shrugged.

  “Bullshit. You know why.”

  Her eyes narrowed, not liking being called out in her lie. Too bad. I held firm, awaiting her answer to the original question.

  Finally, she rolled her eyes heavenward. “My job has me somewhat in the public eye. I’m not a celebrity by any means but I am sort of social media famous and I’m not exactly a size two. And while the majority of the feedback I’ve gotten from readers of my blog and social media postings has been extremely positive, there are still that small percentage who scrutinize my weight. Most of the time, it’s random men sending those messages. They ask about what I eat or just flat out tell me I should be eating less and I need to get a gym membership instead of deals with major fashion brands.”

  By the time she’d stopped talking I was livid. My hands had tightened into clenched fists at my sides, and I could feel my heart rate increasing the blood flow circulating through my body. I wanted to take somebody’s goddamn head off.

  “Who are they?”

  Resha blinked at the nearly lethal tone of my voice. She shook her head and waved her hand dismissively. “No one important. Typically, they’re just losers on the internet with nothing better to do than make others feel bad about themselves. Seriously, most of the time it doesn’t bother me. Not so much anymore. It’s just old stuff from growing up a fat kid, too. Really, it’s not a big deal.”

  I peered at her through narrowed lenses to discern whether or not she was telling the truth or just trying to calm me down. It was a combination of both. But the same look in her eye that lured me in as I watched her in that bar in New York pulled me to her then.

  Cupping the right side of her face with one hand, I let the other slip around her waist, bringing our bodies flush against one another. “You know you’re beautiful, right?” She had to know that.

  Her lips formed a thin line. “Sure.”

  She didn’t sound convinced.

  “Any motherfucker who deliberately goes out of their way to make a woman, let alone a stranger, feel bad about themselves is a shitstain who is miserable in their own life. Their real problem is they want you but deep down know they’re not good enough to have you.”

  Her eyes widened as if she’d never heard those words before. As if the very truth of what I’d just told her had never even occurred to her. Damn, who the hell had this woman been with before? In that moment, it became my mission to get her to recognize the truth of who she was. To wipe away that longing look that resided deep in those coffee-colored orbs of hers. Not ever had a woman I wasn’t related to awakened my need to protect, serve, and encourage, more than she had in this moment.

  I released her, with that silent vow, taking a step back and allowing her to direct me to get this photoshoot over with. I had plans for the both of us once the work was out of the way.

  Chapter Eight

  Resha

  “Perfect. Now reach up and grab for the top of the bag with your right hand. Let’s see how that looks.”

  He’s a natural, I thought to myself, and I smiled while looking through the lens of my camera, snapping picture after picture. We were a couple of hours into the shoot and I swear with each passing second, Connor looked better and better. It didn’t hurt that he’d removed his T-shirt, spent a few rounds jumping rope to get all sweated up, and changed into a pair of grey jogging pants. All of that was the mere icing on the cake.

  Connor’s body was a masterpiece. Sketched out by years of training and fighting. And once we started taking pictures, I saw why he’d chosen this place for the shoot. This was his home. Not where he lived, obviously, but where he felt most comfortable. This dark, grungy abandoned building with seemingly nothing inside but a fighting ring, some training equipment, and folding chairs. All of it surrounded by huge concrete pillars that held the building up, was where he felt free and relaxed enough to allow me to turn the camera on him.

  “Okay, here,” I stated, lowering my camera and picking up both the vanilla and chocolate protein powder canisters, taking them to him. “Hold these in your hands like this.”

  He held a bottle in each hand, up around his chest with a stern face.

  I bit my lip as I looked at him through the camera lens. His blond hair fell around his shoulders as the sweat rolled down his face and chest. Each droplet of sweat clung to muscles rippling over his tight abdomen, and for one second I wished I could be that droplet of salt, water, and whatever the hell else sweat was made out of.

  My finger moved, snapping picture after picture of Connor and enjoying every second of it. He peered directly at me with each picture, silently conveying messages with his eyes that were unmistakable. I tried hard as hell to convince myself that this was just returning a favor to a man who did something nice for me, but I knew it was bullshit, and the gleam in Connor’s eyes dared me to continue lying to myself.

  That look was not to be misinterpreted. It said everything his lips didn’t—and they had said plenty from the moment he kissed me once we first entered the building. My body hummed with excitement and anticipation that I couldn’t ignore or downplay. But my mind, she was much more reticent.

  Every failed relationship I ever had, which had been plenty, played over and over. My mind and memories reminding me that I was terrible when it came to choosing men. I couldn’t trust myself, and hadn’t been able to for a very long time.

  “Stop thinking so much, Resha, and take the damn pictures so we can get out of here.”

  Connor’s growl pulled me from those stressful thoughts of the past.

  “We’re almost done,” I retorted. “I just want to get a final few shots with all of your products and supplements arranged in the middle of the fighting ring.”

  “I’m not laying down in that ring, half naked like some sort of fucking Fabio look-alike with TKO products spread all around me,” Connor grunted, wearing an expression of disgust.

  I nearly doubled over laughing at the image he painted. “Are you sure? Because I was thinking—”

  “Resha,” he warned in that guttural tone that caused ripples of awareness to roll through my body.

  “F-Fine. I was kidding anyway. No, this shot will just be TKO products and supplements. I think I got all the shots of you that I need. You’re very photogenic.”

  He grunted as he stuck his arms through the dark T-shirt he had stowed away in the back changing room. He helped arrange the products the way I wanted, and then I spent the final thirty minutes of our shoot taking shots from every angle, trying to get the products on display with the grittiness of our surroundings.

  “These look good,” I said excitedly when I finally stopped to look through the hundreds of
images on the memory card with the camera’s playback feature.

  He didn’t say anything but I could feel Connor behind me, standing over me. Suddenly, his hands covered mine, pulling the camera free. I let him as he held the camera out in front of us with his body pressed against my back, essentially trapping me from all sides. Yet, I didn’t feel trapped. I felt as if this was exactly where I’d belonged my whole life.

  His warm breath caressed the side of my neck as his chin lowered to my shoulder. His fingers pressed the arrow buttons of the camera, moving from one image to the next. My core temperature rose as his arms continued to bracket my body, and I stared at picture after picture of Connor in his element. That feeling of wanting to know everything I could about the man in the pictures, the man holding me, breathing down my neck, intensified. Suddenly, staring at the pictures wasn’t enough. I needed to see the real thing.

  Spinning around in Connor’s arms, I reached up on my tiptoes, and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He wasn’t put off or surprised by my moves. No, he was expecting it. The heat that had built up between us throughout the morning and early afternoon, he wasn’t immune to it anymore than I was.

  So when his lips captured mine, we both were ready for the fireworks that ignited. His low, guttural groan, caused an almost painful need to course through my body. My nipples pebbled and I moaned the second his tongue met mine, somewhere in the middle of our kiss.

  “Oh shit! I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Startled, I jumped and clutched onto Connor’s arms, almost digging into them with my fingernails. But Connor wasn’t frightened at all as he peered over his shoulder. He did look pissed off and irritated.

  “The hell are you doing here so early?” he questioned the older looking man who moved closer, wearing a grin on his face.

  “Meeting a new recruit to the Underground early prior the first fight. He wants to train before getting into the ring. I left a message on your voicemail. You must’ve been busy.” The man’s smiling, brown eyes slid over to me, and the wrinkles increased as the smirk on his lips grew to a full on smile. “Ma’am, nice to meet you. I’m Buddy,” he greeted.