Uncaged Love #2: MMA New Adult Contemporary Romance (9 page)

He lifts his body away, enough to leave a gap between us. The only place we connect is right down there. I realize,
this is it
, but I don’t allow my muscles to tense up. I exhale slowly.

Colt smiles down at me. Then he shifts his hips, and I feel it, a small stab of pain. I tense up, and he stops. But this makes it worse.

“It’s like the pool,” I manage to say. He nods, and without hesitation, plunges the rest of the way inside.

I suck in a breath. He holds his position, careful and still. “You okay?”

I can’t believe it’s already over. “Yes. I’m pretty sure you slammed right through it.”

He chuckles. “You should write Valentine’s cards.” He leans down to kiss my neck.

Carefully, he lifts his hips and eases back down. I prepare myself, but this time there is no pain. As he glides out, I find that I want him back in, faster. I splay my hands low on his back, pressing him down. When he keeps it slow, I push harder. He obeys, picking up speed.

It’s so different, so deep. The pleasure that just totaled me a minute ago is back, but down inside me. When Colt pushes in, he reaches it. When he pulls away, I just want it back.

I drive my hips up to him, increasing the pace. I don’t know exactly where it’s going, or how it will end. But I need it. I need to feel this, and I can’t wait any longer. “Colt,” I say, not even knowing what to tell him.

“I know,” he says, and then he really lets loose. He’s plunging, holding my hips. The world is erased, and it’s more intense than the hurricane.

I feel like I’m erupting, the spasms begin so deep inside. When Colt begins to groan, it triggers a reaction and I’m clasped against him. I can’t breathe or think. I can only feel this never-ending wave. I’m saying his name again, over and over, like it’s the only word I know. He holds still, and our bodies pulse together in a rhythm as I quiver around him.

I come down slowly, letting his weight settle me onto the bed. His face is buried in my hair. The urge to weep is overwhelming. I know I was right on that first day. I knew he was the one, even though I never thought it could happen. And now it has.

I’m in love with Colt McClure.

We don’t wake up until almost noon. The room is charged with light. We’re tangled together. He’s so beautiful, his arm thrown over his head. I trace the lines of the intricate tattoo on his bicep. I’m learning every curve and turn of the ink.

Almost nothing on him is covered in the twists of the bedding. I take my time admiring each pocket of muscle in his abs. His belly button goes in, and I have the urge to dip my tongue inside.

The fuzz of perfectly trimmed hair intrigues me. I run my hand along it. I wonder how he gets it so flat and even. Something moves, and I peek beneath a swath of the sheets. Colt can’t be completely asleep. At least part of him is waking up.

“Planning to take advantage of me?” he murmurs.

My head pops up. He’s watching me, amused. I wish I were good at this sort of banter. I just look down again. “I want to take a picture of it,” I say.

He laughs so loud that it echoes off the walls. “Come here.” His broad hands lift me up to him. I’m dragged into a long kiss.

Tingles throughout my body wake up all the parts that needed rest. Between my legs I feel a soreness, but it’s quickly wiped out by need.

I roll on top of him, maintaining the kiss. It’s so different being up here when we’re naked. I feel insatiable. I don’t want to mess around. I just want him. I want to make up for lost time.

His erection pokes at me, and I think,
why not?

Then I remember and lean over to the floor to search his jeans. I find more shiny squares. “Six?” I say. “You came well stocked.”

He doesn’t answer, but waits, lying on my bed. Just seeing him there sends a charge through me.

I try to remember what he did the night before and tear the corner off the condom wrapper. I’m not sure which way it rolls, but I guess right and it slides down the length of him with ease.

I straddle him again. I wonder if it will hurt again, but I don’t care. It didn’t last then. It won’t now. I lean down for a kiss as I lead him inside me. Colt can’t keep the kiss as I slide down. He grips my waist and lets out a long strangled groan.

I feel a momentary ache on the way in, but by the time I slide back up, it’s completely gone. I get to control everything this way, and it’s heady. This muscled fighter is below me, but he’s at my mercy.

His eyes are squeezed shut, and his fingers on my flesh are holding tight. I lift up, taking it so far to the end he almost slips out. On a whim, just to see, I slam down with all my might.

He lurches against me. “Shit, Jo, God.” But I don’t let up. I lift up again and again, feeding this need, this crazy urge. It’s powerful.

Colt doesn’t open his eyes, his brows furrowed together. I know he’s concentrating.

I slow down, braced on my hands. I can go any direction, up and down, in circles. Colt groans again. I can tell he wants me to stop. But I don’t. I keep pushing, keep driving him harder.

I know when he’s going to lose it, so I hold still. He breathes raggedly. “Jesus, Jo.”

He launches both of us from the bed, a powerful move that shows off his incredible strength. His hand goes beneath one of my thighs and pulls my leg around his waist. We’re standing in the middle of the room, naked, the light streaming through the broken blinds. He lifts me, and then he’s back inside, filling me up. I have no control at all, arms clasping his neck.

He rocks me up and down, his hands grabbing me, spreading me even wider so he can drive more deeply into my body.

I feel like I’m flying. There’s no earth, no gravity. I’m so lost, the only real thing is the friction of him entering me. The pleasure builds inside me again. Before I even realize I’m starting to go, my voice is crying out, calling his name. He slows it down for me, drawing it out. The muscles of my body clench around him. When my forehead falls to his shoulder, he turns around and lays me back on the bed.

He sets a leisurely pace. I watch him, so beautiful, so intense. He seems perfectly in control, then I can feel a shift in him. He’s shuddering lightly, about to lose it. I touch his cheek, and he opens his eyes.

His gaze penetrates me as he clutches my hips and releases into me. I realize I want to feel it all, to have that rush of wetness flow through my body, no condom in the way. I’ll have to go somewhere, get on a pill or shot or something. I want every bit of him.

He collapses on me. His thighs are trembling. My fingers caress the back of his neck. I thought I would feel so secondary to him. As though everything we did would be about his control over me, his expertise trumping my inexperience. But it’s not that way at all. It’s equal. It’s back and forth.

I’m the luckiest girl in the world.

I’m pretty sure everyone at the gym knows what’s going on with me and Colt. On Monday we laugh and run around like little kids in a theme park.

I worry that I’m distracting him from his training. But Colt seems focused. Everything is brighter and more intense. His punches knock his sparring partner into the walls of the cage. Colt hustles through the workout like he’s on speed. I start to see why his nickname is Gunner.

Even Brittany notices. I can tell she worries that something will happen. That Colt will get hurt worse than last time. But at least she doesn’t interfere.

Colt’s manager sets up another secret fight for the weekend. I have no doubt at all that Colt will win this one. The challenger is a newish fighter, mostly untried. He goes by Jumpstart, since he’s been knocking out the second-tier fighters in one round. But he’s never taken on a league fighter, not yet.

The day before the match, Colt’s whole team sits around a screen set up in the corner of the addition, watching Jumpstart fight. Colt is on a bench, and I sit on the floor between his knees.

Colt’s trainer, Killjoy, is hilarious to watch as he takes in the match. He’s got this big flap of hair that bounces as he pantomimes the hits. “He’s a gunner like you, Colt,” he says. “You’re going to have to outgun him.”

Colt’s fingers stroke my neck as Jumpstart pummels his opponent. “He’s cocky,” I say. “He’ll be his own worst enemy once he gets in a cage with you.”

“He’ll be nervous this time,” Killjoy says, still punching the air. “He knows Colt is the real deal.”

Colt squeezes my shoulders. “So, are you going to be my ring girl or just watch from the chairs?”

I remember Throwdown’s girl in the shiny crop top from the last fight. “I don’t think my sweats and hoodies will make much of an impression.”

Brittany grunts her agreement. “Don’t ruin her image before she has a match, Colt. Ring girls and fighters are two separate species.”

“The women win,” Colt says. But he leans close to my ear. “I know you’re going to wear the silk bikini for me, though, right?”

“As long as it gets me what I want,” I shoot back.

He chuckles.

Killjoy frowns at us. “Pay attention, or I’ll have you do so many knee kicks that your cock falls off.”

On the screen, Jumpstart has found his opening. His gloves are a blur as he blows into his opponent like the other guy is a bag on a chain. The first tendril of fear curls through me as the other man drops to his knees, then goes out cold. I shiver.

“You all right?” Colt asks.

I nod. “You’ll cut him down,” I say. “He won’t know what hit him.” But inside, I’m anxious.

The night of the second fight comes faster. I wonder if Colt has even recovered from the last loss. I have to go alone because Zero has a show. Colt sends his driver to pick me up.

I sit in the back of his Mercedes alone. Colt will already be there with his trainer and team. He’s asked me not to come to the back, but just to watch from the regular seats. I can respect that. He needs to focus.

This venue is less flashy than the Herd. Inside, the setup is similar, a permanent cage surrounded by chairs. But there’s no music or lights or red carpet.

Since everyone I know is working the doors, I end up sitting next to Brittany. She’s subdued this evening, her hair yanked back in a braid. She’s dressed down in jeans and a sweater. Every few minutes she picks up her phone and frowns. I wonder what’s going on with her, but we’re not exactly friends who share their troubles.

The judges take their places at a long table. I wonder how often Colt has gone through all the rounds to tally points. Usually his fights end in a knockout or a submission by the other fighter. Or lately, when a ref calls off the fight because Colt has gotten too injured.

I know that isn’t going to happen today. It just won’t.

Jumpstart comes out first. There’s no fanfare, just a stroll from the dressing room to the cage. He reminds me of Vanilla Ice, his white hair cut straight across on top. He seems leaner than Colt, and I wonder if they are even in the same weight class.

Colt arrives with Killjoy and the teen boy I still haven’t met. Colt looks good, energetic, bouncing to keep his muscles warm. He gives me a little wave. There are fewer of us at this fight than the one at the Herd.

Even though Zero isn’t here, he dressed me before his show. I’m his new project now that I’m willing to actually wear real clothes. I’m still wearing jeans, but I have a normal bra with matching panties. And a satiny silver-blue shirt that goes well with the new jacket. I even traded my beat-up tennis shoes for a pair of black ballet slippers, although I constantly feel like they’re going to fall off my feet.

Colt strips off his fancy sweats to enter the cage. Killjoy follows him on the outside of the mesh, giving him encouragement that I can’t hear from my position.

The ref follows them in. I take a deep breath. It’s just three five-minute rounds. Colt will be okay.

Jumpstart looks cocky as he strides toward the center.
Just go ahead and be that way
, I think. He won’t see the freight train until it’s already run him over.

I lace my fingers together to keep them still. I notice Brittany is just as anxious. Her foot is jiggling like there’s no tomorrow.

The ref backs away, and the match begins. Colt and Jumpstart circle each other for a second, then Colt throws the first punch. Jumpstart blocks it with a kick, which wasn’t part of his style in the video. He’s stepped up his game.

I don’t know if it’s because they’re both gunners, but neither of them goes for a hard-core attack. They wrestle to the ground, trying to get licks in for points. The ref actually signals the end of the first round without either of them causing any major damage to the other.

Brittany shakes her head. “He’s holding back,” she says, more to herself than to me.

Killjoy gestures madly to Colt. I try to settle down. It’s going fine. It’ll just be a point match. It’s a good start for a comeback.

But as soon as the second round begins, it’s nothing like the first. Jumpstart is bored with the wrestling and goes back to his old style. His hands are relentless, pushing punches at Colt with a speed that would tire out even the best-trained fighter.

Colt knows this. He dodges and kicks, getting his own jabs in. But it’s not going to be good enough to win on points if he doesn’t step up.

Then suddenly Colt’s on him, striking Jumpstart’s face and arms and gut. I almost leap from my chair. I see why Killjoy can’t contain himself when watching matches. I want to fight alongside him.

Colt is dominating, pushing Jumpstart back. I’m floored at his tenacity and power. He’s a machine, a brute force, raining punches.

Then, just as quickly, the tide completely turns. I don’t know if Colt gets tired, or if Jumpstart was holding back. But he leaps at Colt, wrapping an arm around his neck and getting in a painful series of jabs to Colt’s jaw.

I’m about to collapse from the strain of watching when the second round ends.

Killjoy presses a towel against Colt’s brow, which is oozing blood. Jumpstart is bleeding too, and his trainer works to stanch the flow.

“I can’t keep track of how it’s scored,” I say to Brittany.

She shrugs. “It can go either way.”