Fighting to Forgive (Fighting Series) (22 page)

She brings herself closer to him, tilting her head. “Excuse me?”

Mason winks at Blake, then swings his gaze back to Eve. “Did it hurt? Falling from heaven?”

“Aw, fuck.” Blake shakes with silent laughter against my shoulder.

“Are you for real?” Eve’s answering smile looks less than offended.

If I had to guess, I’d say she’s not as put-off by men as she’d like to be.

“Yeah, angel. I’m real.
Real
lucky I’m not blind.” He steps back and runs his eyes up and down her body.

She giggles, actually
giggles
.

Caleb smacks his hand on the table. “I’ll grab some drinks. You ladies want another round?”

I pull my eyes off Eve and Mason. “Sure, Mac knows what we’re drinking.”

He nods and walks off.

“You having a good time, Mouse?” Blake murmurs against my temple.

A shiver cascades down my spine. “Mm-hm.”

“You girls getting hammered tonight or what?” Jonah switches positions with Raven so that he’s sitting, and pulls her onto his lap. “I like it when you’re tipsy.”

She slaps his arm playfully. “No, we’re not getting
hammered
.”

Eve raises her hand. “I’m getting hammered.”

“What part of “girls’ night out” didn’t you understand?” Raven says to her husband.

“Hey, we wanted to see Rex play. If you want, we can move to the other side of the club.” Jonah’s arms visibly flex around her waist, betraying his words.

She kisses his right cheek then the left. “No way.”

“Raven, why don’t you tell Jonah what we did after dinner?” Eve’s teasing grin is met with a scowl from her friend.

Blake nudges my side. “What did you girls do?”

“Huh?” I look up into his eyes and see the sexy smile playing on his lips. “Oh, ah…”

I look at Raven for rescue. She stares back at me with eyes as big as beach balls.

“Layla’s vodka soda, Eve’s cosmo, and Raven’s cranberry juice.” Caleb drops the drinks in their respective places in front of us, and a waitress follows behind him with four beers for the guys.

“Baby, I thought you’d be buzzed by now.” Jonah runs his fingers through her hair. “Cranberry juice? Have a drink, I’ll drive you home.”

Oh, no.
The cranberry juice was the kiss of death with Eve.

“Yeah, Rave. Have a drink. Jonah will—oh, wait!” Eve slaps her forehead. “You can’t.” She laughs to herself.

“Eve, shut up.” Raven’s reprimand has little effect on her.

“What’s going on, baby? You sick?” His questions are heavy with concern.

“No. I’m not sick.” Raven places her hand on Jonah’s cheek and runs her thumb along his eyebrow.

Jonah’s eyes get dark and bore into his wife’s. Blake pulls me close, his hand gliding up into my hair. The tension swirls between everyone at the table, and I wonder how long until someone blurts it out. It better be soon or, going by the tense set of his jaw, Jonah may lose it.

“I wanted to tell you when we were alone, but since
some people
can’t keep their big fat mouth shut…”

We all lean in. Even knowing what she’s about to say, I feel like I’m waiting for a surprise.

She frames his face with her hands. With a kiss on his lips, she moves to his ear and whispers.

Blake’s lips are at my ear. “What’s going—”

“Shh!” I shush him and lean in closer to the couple.

Everyone’s silent. Watching.

She pulls back, eyebrows raised at her husband. He looks at her briefly and then drops his forehead to her chest. She holds him close, her fingers running through his hair as she whispers something private. He nods a few times into her hold, presumably affirming her words. He nuzzles in deeper and she accepts him, cradling his head like she will their newborn baby.

In this beautiful moment between two people who are devoted to each other and connected through their shared love, I’m overwhelmed with sadness. As a witness to the moment that will forever change their lives, I can’t help but feel envy. Being so in love with someone that you don’t know where you start and they end. Joy over the idea of new life, a living, breathing, physical manifestation of the love you share for one another. The support of a soul partner that will protect you, and keep you and your unborn child safe and healthy until they breathe their last breath.

“Layla.” Eve hands me a napkin and motions to her face.

Shit.
I dab away the couple of tears that ran loose on me and smile through my somber thoughts.

“You okay, Mouse?” Blake kisses my head, and I nod against his lips.

“Yeah. It’s just really sweet, that’s all.”

“What’s really sweet? I can’t figure out what the hell’s going on.”

I laugh and tilt my head up to his smiling face. “Ask them.”

“Yo, what the fuck’s going on?” Blake yells, breaking up the romantic moment.

I slap his chest. “Shut up.”

Jonah kisses his wife and looks around the table. The most shocking smile I’ve ever seen on a man is etched into his face. “We’re having a baby.”

Blake

Well, fuck me.
I knew they were in a hurry, but I didn’t expect that so soon. I don’t get it. Why the urgent need to start a family? If I ever get married, I don’t think I’d be ready to share my bride with a kid.
Wait, bride? Kid? What the hell’s wrong with me?

“Congrats, man.” I shake Jonah’s hand. “Happy for you.”

Layla leans into me and her arm tightens around my waist. My eyes roll to the ceiling without her noticing. What is it with women and babies? It’s like an airborne infection that spreads instantly and makes chicks get all weepy.

Just the thought of being a father, having that kind of responsibility over another human…
shit, I’m barely taking care of myself.
Chances are, I’d end up being a prick dad. One who controls, who sets ridiculously high expectations, who dominates by the sheer strength of my voice. I’m not cut out for parenthood.

But neither was Jonah, until Raven.

When Raven came into the guy’s life, it’s like he saw the world through a different pair of shades. At the time, I thought he was an idiot, but now that I’ve seen him with his girl, I get it. For the first time ever, I get the appeal of being in a committed relationship. Having someone to eat, sleep, and laugh with every day. Someone who asks about your day and genuinely cares about the answer. A best friend who I can share my secrets with, free of judgment.

I look down at Layla while she goes back and forth with Raven about girlie baby shit. Layla’s funny and relaxed, with just the right amount of fuck-you attitude. Gorgeous in a way that makes my chest throb harder than my dick. Now there’s a revelation.

Damn. With all her baggage and her hang-ups, I’m falling for this girl.

“I hate to be a party pooper, guys. But I have to work tomorrow.” The sound of Layla’s voice pulls me back from my head.

“Oh, right. The promo party at Flesh.” Raven’s eyes dart between Layla and me, like she’s waiting for me to blow up and start tossing tables.

But I’ve got other plans.

“I’ll take you home.” I pull her up from her seat and wait while she gives everyone hugs good night.

The douchebag-dicks at a nearby table rake their hungry eyes over her tight little body. I glare in their direction, quickly realizing that they’re not the only ones checking her out. Three other dudes standing at the bar are doing the same. It’s like she’s north, and no matter where she moves their needle-dick-compasses follow.
Fuck.

Ready to get her the hell out of here, I move to grab her hand. She’s hugging Caleb, and I bite back a growl when I catch Mason checking out her ass. He smiles at me before he wipes the grin from his face.
Yeah, bitch. Not yours.

A voice deep inside my head yells she’s not mine either.

That shit’s changing. Tonight.

Impatiently, I grab her hand to pull her out of the club and into the parking lot.

“Blake.” In her high heels, she struggles to keep my quickened pace. “Slow down.”

I can’t. There’s something I need to do. And nothing outside of a brick wall thrown between us is going to stop me. Hell, not even that.

When my car’s a few yards away, I hit unlock on my fob.

The few steps seem like miles as urgency pushes me forward. At the car, I move us both to the driver’s side.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

I swing the door open, hoping it will give us a sliver of privacy, and turn her to me. Moving in, I press her back against the driver’s seat and shove my hands into her loose, silken hair.

“Ask me.” My growled demand makes her jump.

“Blake, I don’t under—”

I touch my forehead to hers and force myself under control. “Torture. Being so close. Smelling you all over with the taste of your kiss still on my tongue. Standing by while motherfuckers check you out. Knowing that they’re dreaming about what I know to be better than anything their wildest fantasies could come up with. Fuck, it’s killin’ me.”

Her eyelids flutter, and her breathing’s shallow. “Oh my God.”

“Mouse, I won’t do it unless you ask. The shit from your past rides you hard. I see that. But fuck, I’m dying here.” I fist my hands in her hair and tilt her head back. My lips hover over hers so that I’m drinking in her heated breath. “Tell me it’s okay.”

“Yes.” Her mouth is so close, her lips brush against mine at her spoken word.

“Yes what?” I slide my parted lips along hers. “What do you want?”

“Please, Blake. Kiss me.”

Sixteen

Blake

Thank God.
I cover her mouth with mine. She moans against my tongue. A rumble of satisfaction rips from my throat. I suck her bottom lip, and the sweet taste floods my senses. Her wet mouth, combined with the velvety caress of her tongue, grips my gut.

My abdominal muscles flex, and I press her deeper into the driver’s seat. She grips my shirt at my hips, holding on as I curve my body over hers. Everything about her seems small and delicate, but her kiss is fevered as she matches every stroke. She arches her back, pushing her breasts up so that they rub against my ribs. An intense yearning boils beneath my skin. To touch, taste, and experience every inch of her body, inside and out.

I slide my hand from her hair to her neck, all the while plundering her delicious mouth. My palm itches to run along her peaked nipple. Moving my hand lower, I stop just above the swell of her breast, unwilling to go a step farther without her spoken permission. She squirms beneath me, her body begging for what I’m holding back.
Fucking perfect.

I rein in my frenzy and summon the strength to break the kiss. Her eyes seem almost black in the dark as they question mine. Impatient, I nip at her upper lip. “Ask.”

She blinks, her gaze darting to where my fingertips rest against the slope of her collarbone. “Touch me.” Her simple request dissolves with a moan.

I smile against her lips. “Good girl.”

My mouth devours hers in a rewarding kiss. She hooks the waistband of my boxers, and her small fingers feel like fire as they run against my skin. The tempting fragrance of vanilla fills my nose and teases my hunger for more.

I pull back a fraction to look at her. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips swollen, and her eyes closed. As much as I want to shove my hands—shit, my head—up her shirt, I need to know that she’s okay. If things move too fast, I could lose her. “Look at me.”

Molten lust colors her deep brown gaze.

The heel of my hand runs along the swell of her breast. She sucks in a quick breath, but I only see longing in her eyes. I move farther down and feel the firm tip of her nipple against my palm. The thin layers of fabric between us do nothing to hide the heat of her aroused flesh. My abs flex with the uncontrollable need to bury myself inside her. It’s never been this hard to hold back, and never this important that I do.

I study the depths of her eyes, hidden behind lust-heavy lids. My thumb circles gentle passes across her nipple, and she drops them closed.

“Open,” I whisper.

She bites her lip, and her eyes flare with passion. I can’t fight my smile.
Doesn’t take orders, my ass.

After a few light drags of my palm, I squeeze her breast gently, rolling her nipple between my fingers. Convinced that she’s okay, I move back in. Her mouth opens to me instantly. Famished, I tilt my head, delving in, exploring every contour of her mouth with an eager pull of my lips. Her tongue rolls against mine. So fucking sweet.

Minutes or hours or years, time dissolves as we fall into each other’s kiss. My body is alive, vibrating with a wild need to claim her. I position my leg between hers and bite back a roar of satisfaction at the fire I feel against my thigh. Her hips roll against me, searching for the relief that I’d give her now if I could. But not here, not like this.

I move to her neck and absorb her racing pulse against my tongue. “I want you.”

“Mmm…” She tilts her head, allowing me full access to her throat.

“Where’s Axelle?”

“Home.”

That’s not going to work. My place. “When’s your curfew?”

“Eleven.”

It’s pure torture, but I drag my hand away from her breast and reach for my phone to check the time. Nine forty-five. “I’ll have you home by then.” I motion to the passenger seat. “Hop in.”

She rolls her lips between her teeth, her expression tense.

Shit. She’s spooked. This isn’t some one-night-stand that I picked up in a bar. She needs gentle, which means I’ve got to tame my shit. “Mouse.” I step back and give her some space. “Your choice. No hard feelings.”

With her arms crossed over her stomach, she studies me through narrowed eyes. I hold my hands up and take one more step back. I know her past haunts her, makes her question my motives. The last thing I want to do is scare her away.

Handling a woman this fragile is more difficult than I thought it’d be. But with her, it doesn’t feel like work. It’s like coaxing open the petals of a flower.
What the fuck?
I grimace and tell myself the next time a thought like that pops into my head, I’m begging Layla for another flying knee to the ’nads. Shit.