Closing my eyes, I bury my face in his neck. “I love
you.” It’s the only thing I can think of to communicate my
appreciation. But it’s not enough.
“I love you too.” He repositions me at his side.
I lean up and give him my lips. It’s in this kiss
that two truths penetrate and soak into my soul.
First, Jonah loves me.
And, second, I don’t know what the future will
bring, but whatever happens, I won’t be facing it alone.
Raven
I shiver as cool air washes over my back all the way
down to my thighs. Surfacing from my deep sleep, I reach for the
blanket to ward off the cold when I feel something warm pleasantly
teasing my hip. Little by little, the cold is chased away and a
tingling heat moves through my body. I blink my eyes open, aware of
the slight shifting of the bed and the soft touch that makes its
way up my back.
Jonah.
Like last night, he’s kissing a trail
along the path of my tattoo.
Last night!
My eyes pop open as impassioned
memories tear their way through my sleep. I lost my virginity. A
giggle erupts from my throat.
He smiles against my shoulder. “Tickle?” His deep,
gravelly voice against my skin raises goose bumps down my arm.
“Mmm, no. Feels good.”
“You’re laughing.”
Shaking my head, I refuse to divulge my schoolgirl
thoughts.
“I didn’t think waking up to you in my bed could get
any better. But waking up to you, with your hot little body, naked
and pressed against mine?” He nibbles and licks at his spot on my
neck. “The shit dreams are made of.” Groaning, he pushes himself up
to my ear. “I hate to leave you like this, but I have a phone
interview. Go back to sleep, baby. I shouldn’t be long.”
“Interview? But it’s still dark out.”
“Mm-hmm.” His face is buried in my neck and his
fingers graze my breasts.
I moan and arch my back, pressing into him.
“Fuck.” The word rumbles against my skin. “Don’t
move. I want to get right back to this when I’m finished.”
With one last kiss to my shoulder, I feel him get
out of bed. I hear him slide on his drawstring pants. “Stupid
fucking interview.” He shuts the bedroom door behind him.
One deep, contented sigh later, my eyes drift
close.
~*~
Jonah
“This sucks,” I say under my breath as I drop down
into my desk chair in my home office.
I check the clock. Five fifteen in the morning. I
sip my coffee and curse my publicist for setting up these
interviews.
I’m at my desk when I should be wrapped around
Raven. My girl’s flawless bare body molded to mine, surrounded by
her smell, it was nearly impossible to walk away.
I log into my email and open the one from my
publicist. This is the absolute worst part of being a fighter, the
publicity shit. Some guys get off on it, but most of us hate it.
The radio station interviews are the lesser of the publicity evils.
At least I get to do it from home in my flannel pants. If I had my
cell I could do this from my bed with Raven in my arms. I shake my
head and make a note to get myself a new phone first thing.
Scanning the email, looking for the number, I notice
I’m fifteen minutes late. I shrug. Fuck ’em. I made love for the
first time in my life to the girl of my dreams. They can wait.
I punch in the number listed on the email. I give
the producer my name and wait, my thoughts drifting back to last
night. I’ve never had a sexual experience like that. Owen wasn’t
fucking around when he said sex was different when you do it with
someone you love. And Raven, the girl had zero experience, but damn
if she didn’t light up like a fucking Roman candle. Those panties,
her moaning, body arching, begging for my attention. I groan and
readjust my pants.
And here, I thought I’d lose interest? Once would
never be enough—shit, a lifetime would never be enough of Raven.
She just gave me a taste of what she has to offer, and I’m
famished, completely starving for more.
“To all our radio listeners out there, we have a
special treat for you today.” The voice on the phone rips me from
my happy place. “Jonah ‘The Assassin’ Slade is taking a break from
his rigorous training schedule to give us an exclusive interview.
His fight with Heavyweight Champion Victor Del Toro for the belt is
September fourteenth at Mandalay Bay. Jonah, thanks for taking the
time to talk to us.”
“Of course, thanks for having me.” I roll my
eyes.
“Victor Del Toro has been the reigning Heavyweight
Champion for over six years. Are you confident that you can beat
him?”
“Absolutely. I think my record speaks for itself. I
haven’t lost a fight yet and don’t plan on losing one now.” I
grimace at my blatant lie because that’s exactly what I plan on
doing.
“Del Toro has what you call a glass jaw. Can you
explain what that is to our listeners?”
“Sure, glass jaw refers to someone who gets knocked
out easily. It’s Del Toro’s Achilles’ heel. But the guy is the
reigning Heavyweight Champion and has been for six years, so he’s
no pansy. Weak jaw or not, the guy can fight.”
“Now, you, ‘Assassin,’ have a mean right hook. We
can assume that your powerful right hook combined with Del Toro’s
glass jaw means he has very little chance of winning this
fight?”
“No, not necessarily. The key to a great fighter is
to know your weakness. He trains to protect his jaw at all costs. I
could throw a dozen killer right hooks, but they only work if I
land them. He’ll be on guard the entire fight.”
“Last question, you have a reputation of being . . .
how should I say . . . friendly with the ladies? Rumor has it
you’ve been seen around town with a sexy brunette. Our sources say
it’s Raven Morretti, a local car mechanic.” The interviewer and his
co-host laugh before finishing. “Is ‘The Assassin’ settling
down?”
No, he fucking did not.
I grind my teeth and my muscles tense. Leaning
forward, resting my elbows on my desk, I speak clearly to keep from
being misunderstood.
“Not gonna discuss my personal life, guys, but I
will say this.” My voice sounds low and menacing even to my ears.
“You talk about Raven, I’ll pay a personal visit to your studio and
we’ll have words. You get me?”
“Whoa! You heard it here, folks. Sounds like The Las
Vegas Casanova is finally settling—”
Click.
Shit. How did I not think about this? This fight is
huge for Vegas. She’s going to get thrown into the middle of the
media firestorm. As if the girl doesn’t have enough to deal with
already. I need to protect her. But how? I’ll make sure we lie low
until the fight’s over. Briefing Raven on the situation should help
to prepare her for what she’s up against.
Running away with her and living out the remainder
of our days on some deserted island doesn’t sound like a bad idea
after all.
I make a few more calls: two for interviews and one
for a new cell phone to be delivered to my house. It’s eight
fifteen, and I haven’t heard a sound come out of my room. Raven
must still be asleep. I plan on crawling back in bed with her when
I hear the water running in my bathroom. Or a shower? I smile as
visions of shower sex with Raven infiltrate my mind.
“Don’t be an insensitive prick.” I shake the wet
fantasy from my head. She’s got to be sore. I can’t have sex with
her for a day . . . or two. Okay, a day. Give her a chance to
recover.
No way can I go in the room when she’s wet and naked
in my bathroom. I won’t be able to give her a break if I see her
like that. Killing time, I pay a couple bills online, check my
email, and play a game of solitaire before I head back to my
room.
I stroll down the hallway with purpose and a smile.
Sex might be off the agenda for today, but I can think of plenty of
other things we could do to occupy our time.
~*~
Raven
I open my eyes to bright sunlight. Stretching my arms
above my head, my muscles object.
Gosh, I’m sore.
I roll to
my back as a smile tiptoes its way across my face.
“This is awesome.” I stomp my feet on the bed under
the sheet.
The faint smell of coffee crashes my private party.
I throw my legs over the bed, gripping the sheet to my naked chest.
I search the floor for my panties, and remember that Jonah
destroyed them last night. My lips roll between my teeth to muffle
my excited squeak. I’ll make sure to fit a panty-replacement
shopping spree into my schedule this week. Maybe I’ll get a few
extra pairs of those—
A warm rush of heat seeps from between my legs. My
jaw drops open as my hand flies to my mouth.
“Oh no! My period? Crap!”
Wrapping the top sheet around my body, I run to the
bathroom and jump in the shower. I do the mental math while
scrubbing my body, making sure to be gentle with the tender areas.
Ten days early? Impossible. I haven’t missed one pill—my breath
hitches.
Not my period!
No, that would be embarrassing
enough. What just happened, on Jonah’s fancy sheets no less, is a
direct result from last night.
“This is so humiliating.”
I can’t imagine what the proper protocol is for a
girlfriend who bleeds virgin blood on her boyfriend’s sheets. One
thing’s for sure, I need to get those off and get them in the wash
before he sees.
Dressing quickly in one of Jonah’s T’s, I throw my
wet hair up in a towel and put Operation Virginity Devastation into
action.
I race around the bed and toss the comforter to the
ground. Ripping pillowcases off one by one, I pile them on the
floor along with the sheets. I’m frantically scooping up the soiled
linens when I hear the bedroom door open. Frozen in place, I
squeeze my eyes shut.
Darn it!
Head down, I sneak a peek, silently hoping I’d
imagined it.
“Hey.” He studies the load in my arms, eyes
lingering a bit on my legs.
Nope. I’m caught. I hop to standing, losing a few
pillowcases on the way, and force my most innocent grin.
“What’s going on?” He tilts his chin to the sheets
in my arms. “I have a maid for that.”
His sexy half grin almost makes me forget my
all-consuming embarrassment. Almost.
My mind spins, trying to come up with a plausible
reason why I’d be doing Jonah’s laundry. His gorgeous body,
uncovered from the waist up, does nothing for my concentration. I
run my hungry eyes over every muscular curve.
I blink in a flutter, clearing the optical orgasm.
Concentrate, Raven.
“I, uh, thought I’d help out. Um, do my
share since I’ve been living here?” My excuse comes out a
question.
Jonah reads me with narrowed eyes. He knows I’m
lying.
My eyes dart around the room unable to focus on his
penetrating gaze. On a sigh, I drop my shoulders along with the
sheets, defeated.
I can’t lie to Jonah. “This morning, when I woke up,
I, uh . . .”
He lifts his eyebrows for me to continue.
“When I sat up, I guess gravity or something took
over and I . . . um . . .” I drop my face, concentrating on the
floor in front of me. “Bled . . . on your nice sheets.” I confess
and rub my forehead to avoid eye contact. “I’m sorry. I’ll wash
them, and if it doesn’t come out, I’ll buy you new ones.”
I don’t hear him move, but his bare feet move into
my line of sight. Standing less than a foot away, he pulls me into
his arms. They flex around me and he places a kiss on my head. I
relax and snuggle into his hold.
“Let me take care of the sheets. You go get some
coffee, and I’ll throw these in the wash.”
He leans back, searching for my eyes. I direct my
stare past his shoulder. He cups my cheek, holding my face
prisoner, demanding my attention.
“I love you, baby, but I don’t love you thinking
that I care about some stupid sheets. I hope it does stain so that
every time I sleep on ’em I’ll be reminded of our first time, not
that I’ll need the reminder. Last night is burned into my brain,
permanently.”
He did not just say that.
My cheeks heat and
my nose wrinkles. “Eww. That’s gross.”
“What? That last night is burned in my brain?”
I break eye contact to focus on his neck. “No, that
you’d want to sleep on sheets stained with my blood.”
His fingers bring my chin up as he bends down. “Not
gross to me, baby.” His voice is close and rough. “It’s sexy.” His
breath caresses my lips and smells like coffee. My tongue darts out
to see if I can taste it. His eyes focus on my mouth and I watch
his eyelids drop.
Oh boy.
“I need you to walk away now. Go get your
coffee.”
I nod, but my body pushes closer to his.
“You’re probably sore from last night, and I want to
give you time to heal. If you stay here, looking at me like that,
smelling the way you do, inches from my bed, I won’t be able to let
you.”
I shiver.
“That’s right, baby. Coffee. Now.” His demand is
gentle, but still no less a demand.
I blink my eyes quickly. “I’ll go get my
coffee.”
“That’s my girl. I’ll be there in a few.”
Moving past him, he lightly smacks my butt. Shaking
my head, but smiling ear to ear, my mind processes his words.
Not gross to me, baby. It’s sexy.
He really must love me.
Jonah
Raven left for work a few minutes ago. And with her
absence came my crushing reality.
My scalp is numb from fisting my hands in my hair.
Sitting at my breakfast bar, I stare mindlessly at the black
granite countertop, as I attempt to sort out the jumbled thoughts
in my head.
Throwing a fight isn’t as easy as it sounds. I can’t
just walk into the octagon and stick my chin out. I have to fight.
Just not fight good enough to win.
How the fuck am I supposed to do that?