Blindsided (The Fighter Series Book 1) (14 page)

I’ve learned two things about Paige. First, her moans can make me nut simply by hearing them, and second, she’s one strong-willed creature. I felt her body wind up from my touch last night. Like I bomb, I lit her fuse and she was ready to explode. It took every ounce of strength in me not to pull her onto my swollen cock and fuck her senseless. She wanted it. There’s no doubt about it. Shit was written all over her face. Her mouth can say one thing, but her body is screaming for more.

See, ladies, there are things about you a man can, and trust me, will notice. You can fight the fight all you want, but your bodies are traitors. We can smell arousal. The sweet scent grabs us by the nose and travels lengthwise to our dicks. Your breaths become pants regardless of how much you practice deep breathing and yoga. Your lips part slightly and sometimes you’ll lick or even bite them—which is fucking sexy as hell. Your voice changes marginally, and the telltale sign—your eyes. Your lust oozes from widened pupils. I’ve seen enough of this to know Paige is fighting one hell of a battle and I’m glad I’m not the only one.

Today I took her snowboarding about thirty minutes away. It’s a little resort I’ve loved since I was a kid. When she woke this morning, she was still embarrassed about last night. She has no reason to be. She can’t help that she’s attracted to me and that she’s curious to feel me pressed deep inside of her.

I’m getting off course here. Where was I before my dick started thinking? Snowboarding. Just as she did in the ring, she listened to me intently as I taught her how to balance on the board. She’s wicked competitive and I’m certain she’s sore as hell. She busted her ass so many times, but impressively, she bounced back up each time. By the end of the day, I had to call it quits because she wasn’t popping up as fast as she was to begin with.

But the time we spent together was fun. I haven’t laughed that hard with someone in years. It was well worth the cussing Harvey gave me for taking off so many days of training. I’ll pay for it when I get back, but seeing her light up as she has today is completely worth it.

This is the second night in a row she eye fucks me as I cook. She watches me, soaking in my every movement pretending to be uninterested. Her expression tells me differently. I’ve caught her a few times watching my hips and when I do, she quickly turns her attention to the wine in front of her. As much as I want to call her out on it, I know it wouldn’t be good. She’ll clam up. I need her to relax. I need her to let down her guard. If she only knew the torture she’s putting me through. I can’t believe she hasn’t caught me tucking my cock under my waistband as she ogles me.

It also doesn’t help that it’s been eight days since I’ve had sex. Honestly, I’d appreciate a fucking award for it. Eight! Rubbing one out helps fight off the blue balls, but it’s nothing like the feeling of a tight wet pussy wrapped around me. Let me repeat it, spell the shit out for you: E-I-G-H-T! The last time I’ve been without it this long was when I was a virgin. I don’t understand why the hell I’m doing it either, so you hang on just like I am and let’s see where this goes.

“Oh my god,” she moans with a mouthful of grilled chicken.

I suck in air watching her have a fucking mouth-gasm. “I haven’t even touched you and you’re having an orgasm,” I quip.

“You enjoy flattering yourself, don’t you?” she deadpans.

I point my fork at her. “You’d be surprised what I enjoy.”

“I think I’ve seen enough to know,” she bites out.

Ooh…that was a low blow. “Seen versus felt are two different things, sweetheart.”

She glares at me but she knows I’m telling the truth. She’s never felt my lips drag down her body, my hands squeeze her hips, my tongue dance across her skin. I’m capable of giving her a different definition of heaven. I see the desire she has for me wrapped deeply inside her green irises. I narrow my eyes, daring her to say something but instead she decides not to respond.

Aggravated and having lost my appetite, I take my plate to the sink. “I’m gonna take a shower.” I don’t wait for her to say anything. Fact of the matter, unless she says let me join you, I don’t give a fuck what it is. Breaking down her walls is infuriating as hell.

Let me set the scenario up for you. My master bathroom is in my room. That’s why they call it a master. It belongs to me. But last night, after her luscious moans I had to take a shower to take care of business. Not thinking, I was stretched out as I hit my “special moment,” and accidentally pulled the showerhead off. Go ahead and laugh. Shit was funny as hell, although it ruined my thoughts of Paige spread out on the bed. So now, I have to shower in the guest bathroom. I meant to fix mine today, but our little trip got in the way. I’ll get to it tomorrow…I hope.

I step out of from my “taking care of business” shower and dry off wrapping the towel around my waist. Just as I open the door to head to my room to get dressed, Paige exits her room which is directly across from this bathroom.

Her eyes wander my body as if she’s etching every curve into her memory. She drags them down my chest and stomach, delaying at the fold of my towel, then slowly travels back up and land on my amused gaze.

I swear it’s been a solid minute.

“Like what you see?”

Hunger blazes in her widened eyes. She flushes a little then blinks shaking her head. “Yeah. I mean no.” She stops and rocks back on her heels pulling her shoulders up. “Yes I do. Look at yourself. There’s no explanation needed.”

I watch her exquisitely beautiful ass bounce as she walks away. It’s a natural movement, not something she’s forcing. I observe it all the way out of sight then head to my bedroom with a towel that resembles more of a tent now. I’ll be damned if I don’t need another “taking care of business” shower.

Distance—I need it. She’s killing me. I’ve been patient with her, but it’s getting to the point where I can’t handle much more. See, women, here’s something that confuses the hell out of us men. You want something, but you don’t. That’s not how we think. Either you do or you don’t. There isn’t anything in between. “Oh yes there is!” I hear you say. No. If a man doesn’t want a woman, he doesn’t get the woman. If the man wants the pussy that’s on said woman he doesn’t want, then he gets his dick wet and he leaves the woman alone. It’s a simple process. But you ladies come with a manual that no one has time to read.

I’m leaning on the railing of my deck, looking out over my backyard that I’ve wanted to fix for years. I’d love to have a fire pit with a seating area around it, maybe even a pool, but I’ve been too busy trying to reach the goal I set for myself years back. Levi Stiles—World Champion. It sounds so fucking phenomenal. Once there, things will slow down and I’ll be able to do the other things I’ve wanted to do, but for now, I’m focused on the contract.

“It’s pretty out here.” Her sexy voice drives me insane.

This whole vacation plan was a bad idea. I’m man enough to admit that I messed up. I thought for sure she would have broken by now and let us spend the majority of our time in the sack.

“Yeah.” It’s all I say.

She slides her arm through mine and leans her head on my shoulder. See, women—mixed fucking signals. I don’t pull away allowing her to stay put. It feels good to have her on my arm. This chick has managed to get into my head, wrap herself around my brain and do some constricting to my heart. I fucking hate it even though I love it.

“What do you feel like doing tonight?” she asks.

Her voice is like heaven in my ears.

What the flying monkey shit did I just say? Heaven to my ears? Who the fuck am I, Romeo?

I crack up at my thoughts. “You.”

Might as well be honest here.

She laughs and pinches my arm right before she walks back into the house. I rake my hands across my face forcing back an exasperated roar. This vacation was a bad, bad, very bad damned idea. Why the hell I thought taking her on a vacation in hopes of getting her in bed was a good idea is beyond me. If I had thought with the correct head…ah who am I kidding, I’d still be in this situation. Unfortunately, there’s a force pulling me toward her. Gravitating me directly into a brick fucking wall.

Next note for you women: if you know a man wants you—make sure you write this down in big bold ass letters—DO NOT FLIRT WITH HIM. It’s confusing as hell and it’s torture to us for you to just have your attention box tickled. We men have a few roles we can fulfill but if we want our dicks wet by you, friends normally do not fit in this category well at all.

Chapter 16

Last night, Levi seemed to have a lot on his mind. He was short in conversation, and even went to bed early. The ride home has been just as quiet. He hasn’t taken his eyes off the road, hasn’t unclenched his jaw, hasn’t let go of his white knuckled grip on the steering wheel, and hasn’t joked around like his normal self. Even the radio is turned off. I’ve listened to the sound of wind rushing over the vehicle for hours, watched as trees and cars go by as if they’re sitting still. The silence is eerie and it’s killing me.

He doesn’t say a word when we pull up to my house. He doesn’t speak as he carries my bag and follows me to my room setting it down on the bed.

Finally, I give in to the awkward. “Are you ok?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he says sounding more disconnected than normal.

“I don’t know.” I scrunch my eyes. He’s emotionless. “You’ve been quiet.”

“Just getting my head back in the game.”

He does have a big fight coming up. It’s his fight before the semifinals and once he wins that, he’ll be one fight away from the championship.

I stand on my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his neck. “Thank you for my vacation. You were right, I needed it.”

He hesitates for a moment before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling us together, gluing us at the hips. He takes a shaky breath against my ear and hums, but doesn’t say a word.

There’s an impeccable pull between us and my heart lurches from my chest. Neither of us moves from absorbing each other’s embrace. Hell, I don’t want to move. His arms feel great around me. I feel safe, completed, and yearned for. A dangerous concoction and I know the longer we stay like this, things that don’t need to happen might.

He loosens his grip pulling back slightly. I glance up just as he bends placing his lips so close to mine that I can smell the mint from his toothpaste. I freeze. Solidified in the spot where I stand. All I have to do is inch forward to feel his lips against mine, to release my body from its pent up frustrations. I’m a prisoner, totally conflicted with what I should do. I raise my gaze from his lips to his passionate stare and a tug jerks in my chest, scaring the hell out of me.

“Um…good luck. You know…with your next fight.” I fumble for words patting him on his chest and taking several steps away trying to break the hypnosis he has on me.

He closes his eyes releasing a heavy breath, but when he reopens them, a victorious glimmer blazes in them and he gives me a lethal smile. “You know you want this.”

“Don’t fool yourself,” I tease.

He doesn’t buy it, stepping toward me as I scramble backward landing against the wall. His royal blues darken with his next two steps, closing the gap between us.

He places both forearms beside my head caging me in. “First of all, I’m not a fool. Secondly, I wish you’d quit fighting what you know you feel.” His voice reverberates throughout me. I’m frantic for air.

My brain glitches. “Levi…” his name falls from my lips.

“What, Paige?” he whispers huskily leaning closer.

“When are you leaving?” I’m breathless despairingly trying to get myself composed.

“Saturday morning.” He doesn’t move continuing his intrusive stare.

“I-uh-I have to work Friday, so I won’t see you.” He’s going to be gone for a few months and this breaks my heart.

He lingers for a moment, his eyes flicking from mine to my lips, then he leans in, his lips barely brushing against mine, but pushes off and starts for the door.

“Levi!” I call out. I don’t know what I want to say. I feel like this is forever goodbye.

He stops keeping his back to me, his head dropping to the floor. I fight my urges. I want him to come back and let me feel the rest of his lips. Let him take the rest of my breath, collapse the rest of my lungs, and steal the beats from my heart. But he doesn’t turn around and I watch him walk out the door, my eyes warm with tears. This will be the last time I see him for a long time. I jam the heel of my palms in my eyes trying to stop the tears, but it’s no use.