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Authors: Kimmie Easley

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BOOK: Body Lock
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I could feel him yield even before he pulled away. I tossed my head backwards and sighed.

“Not yet,” he whispered. “Soon.” He kissed the tip of my nose and disappeared.

My body buzzed with excitement. I stripped away my heels and stomped to the kitchen to grab a spoon and the tub of cookie dough. At least it gave me a reason to go to the gym, as if I needed any more incentive.

CHAPTER SIX

I
was disappointed to find my boss was sending me to a Houston branch for the next three days due to some report discrepancies. That meant no gym
or
Ford time. I had all of two minutes to fill Megan in on my date, choosing to leave out the more intimate details. However, I’m sure my rosy, pink cheeks gave my secret away.

“I don’t trust a southern guy who doesn’t eat meat,” she taunted.

“It’s not the meat I care about.”

“Dakota, you saucy little vixen.”

“What? I’m human. I’m a very sexually frustrated human. Okay, I have to get on the road. I’ll be back Thursday.” I gave her a quick hug and hauled my bag down the stairs. I struggled with the idea of leaving Ford a message, but thought it would appear clingy.

My heart hammered away in my chest as I accelerated past the gym. It was going to be a long three days.

***

M
y stomach leapt into my throat as I tried to remain casual walking into Champs. The evening crew was light, with everyone finishing up. Ford had just stepped out of the ring. It was noticeable when he spotted me because his hard face lit up like a kid at Christmas, sending goosebumps across my skin.

“Damn, I thought I scared you off.”

I flashed a smile. He made me feel weightless, as if I was floating on cloud nine. “Not a chance. I had an unexpected work trip. But I’m back and ready to get down to business.”

He arched his masculine brow.

I playfully tapped him on the chest. “Not like that. Well, unless...”

Ford chuckled. “Don’t tempt me. Wanna do a few rounds?”

“That’s what I’m here for,” I said with a wink.

“Pad up.”

“Really? But I like the sweaty skin on skin action.” I pretended to pout, batting my eyelashes.

“Too bad. Safety first, especially for a newbie.” He braced me by the shoulders and propelled me forward. “Get to it,” he said as he slapped me on the ass.

I could tell that Ford had changed his strategy. My not having experience must have really taken a toll on him. I wasn’t complaining though. He was attentive and gentle. Well, as gentle as two people could be in the middle of a boxing ring.

“Good job. You have more stamina than most people in here.”

“Thanks, maybe this weekend we can work on my stamina training.” The short time in the ring made me want to ravage him right in the middle of Champs.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, seriously. That being said, I have to go out of town this weekend.”

I recoiled. Not sure why, but it bothered me. It was almost as if we had to fight the universe just to be together. “That’s cool. Another time then.”

Ford grasped my hands. “I have a fight in Shreveport.”

“Nice, I didn’t know you competed.”

He smiled at my innocence. “I was hoping you might come along.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I know it might be awkward, and you can always say no, but a weekend away could be fun.”

“I’m down for some fun.” I popped my eyes. “You sure I wouldn’t be a distraction?”

“It’s a chance I’m willing to take. We leave out Saturday and come back Sunday. Sound good?”

My heart raced. Everything was moving so fast. And after standing still for the last eight months, I was all for it.

“Absolutely. Pick me up at my place?”

He bent down and gave me a soft kiss, right there in the middle of the gym. “One o’clock.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

I
climbed into Ford’s jacked up truck. It was an older model Chevy. “I was expecting it to be a Ford.”

He slumped his heavy shoulders. “I was expecting you to be more original.”

I smirked as he pulled out of my apartment complex, leaving an annoyed and worried Megan behind. We made small talk. We found things we had in common, from our love of old country music to our obsession with old band tees. We picked at each other and flirted. However, even with sensual vibes, I still managed to fall asleep.

When I woke up, my heart skipped a beat to find Ford holding my hand. I tried to play it off and act casual, but fireworks were exploding on the inside.

“Where are we?”

“Hey, gorgeous. We’re pulling into Shreveport. I have to stop by the Horseshoe and check on the room, and then I have to head to weigh in at Century Link.”

“Sounds good. I’m just along for the ride.”

I savored the way he squeezed my hand.

“Hardly,” he asserted.

Lightheaded, I inhaled. I felt like I was dreaming and I was terrified of waking up. We pulled into the parking garage next to the towering hotel shaped like a horseshoe.

“Hi, how can I help you?” The woman wearing a crisp blazer asked, clearly directing her attention towards Ford, who appeared oblivious.

“Yeah, I have a reservation.”

“Excellent, sir. I just need your driver’s license and credit card.”

Ford pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed his information to the captivated clerk.

“Okay,” she began as she punched keys on the computer. “Wilford Herveaux. You’ll be in room 2020. Unless you need two rooms?”

Ford’s face flushed red at the mention of his full name. I stifled a giggle watching him try to regain his composure.

The woman’s gaze darted between Ford and me. I saw it as an opportunity to loop my arm through his. “No need, I’ll be rooming with Wilford, here.”

He pulled me to his side. I grinned watching the girl squirm.

“In that case, you’re all set.”

“Thank ya’, ma’am.” He flashed a smile and coiled his arm around my waist. I knew he was doing it more for me than himself and I was already plotting ways to thank him for the gesture.

We hopped back in the truck and headed to the arena. Ford’s demeanor began to change. He grew quiet, intense.

He snatched his bag from the back of the pickup. “Hey, before we go in,” he started. Instead of finishing, he enveloped me in his arms and cradled me to his massive chest. I could feel his heart battering against his ribcage. I gazed up at him. The gleam in his eyes awakened my body. He dipped his head and claimed my mouth with his.

His kiss was different this time. Carnal. Violent.

I panted as he pulled away.

“When we go in I’ll have some stuff to take care of. I don’t want you to get lost in the shuffle, but it can be pretty hectic.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m here for the show. You worry about you and do what you need to do to win.”

That lopsided grin. Those panty-dropping dimples.

He reached for my hand and we walked in together. Masses of people rushed around with lights and camera. There were people hollering and photographers snapping pictures.

“Shit, it’s about time,” someone said from behind us. I recognized the weathered face from Champs. He rushed up to Ford with an entire entourage in tow.

“Hey Jake, this here is...”

Jake threw his hand up. “No time.”

Ford shot me a look and I responded with a wink to put him at ease.

“There’s our champ!”

The familiar voice belonged to the man with the familiar mustache.

“Lookie here, you brought a good luck charm. How you doin’, Dakota?”

“Hey Boss. I’m good. Just here to lend support.”

His bushy stache bounced as he laughed. He winked at me. “Sure thing, honey.” His expression grew serious as he looked back to Ford. “You ready, son?”

“Hell yeah.”

“That’s what I wanna hear.” Boss directed his attention back towards me. “Let’s get you a seat, doll.”

Ford and I gave each other a parting glance. We were both grateful that Boss was here to step in. He shuffled me through the stadium that was slowly starting to fill up and showed me to a front row seat.

“Surely this isn’t mine.”

Boss nodded. “It’s part of Ford’s VIP package. It’s not like he has anyone else come see him fight. It’s all yours.” He squeezed my hand before bouncing away. He was a real live wire.

His words gripped my heart like a vice. I was honored to be in Ford’s corner.

I sat for what seemed like hours. Music streamed in from the surrounding speakers. I wondered what was going on behind the scenes, but was also relieved to be out of chaos central.

Ring girls strutted around in revealing bikinis. There were a couple of small matches that took place before the room was even half-full. It was cool to be so close to the excitement, but I couldn’t concentrate while thinking about Ford. I had no idea until seeing the big screen that he was on the main card.

Finally, the lights faded, leaving a single spotlight in the center of the arena. A hush fell over the crowd and the music silenced, but only for a moment. “Last Resort” by Papa Roach blared. The spotlight panned across the room. Applause sounded as the announcer introduced the first fighter.

Kip Harding from Bossier City. He was a light heavyweight contender with a 7-4 record. He jogged down the ramp pumping his fists high in the air. He was a big man covered in tattoos. His head was shaved around the sides, allowing for a small ponytail off the top. He sneered and messed with the crowd on his way down. Once he was in the cage, he jumped around and hollered at the audience. I thought I heard a few boos, but overall I was impressed.

It was my first experience with MMA fighting, and I would never tell him, but I was concerned for Ford.

As I was observing the competition. The entire room fell dark. Everything silenced. Confused, my pulse quickened. The anticipation was agonizing. With the room still pitch black, the first few whispers of “Let the Bodies Hit the Floor” by Drowning Pool filled the arena. The spotlight landed on a breathtaking Ford. My heart stalled in my chest and I felt as if I had just been sucker punched in the gut.

“And now, introducing our current Light Heavyweight champion, here to defend his title, with a record of 11-0, Foooorrrd, the Pitbull, Herveauuuux.”

The crowd erupted and jumped to their feet. The tenacious audience was contagious and I did the same. I was so close to him. I saw him making his way down the ramp. As he drew closer, any worry I might have had after seeing Harding dissipated.

Ford’s chin was down. His steel blue eyes, glaring forward. His sculpted arms remained at his sides, but he clenched his fists. In fact, every inch of him was tight, his veins bulging. He sported a small pair of black shorts that looked to have sponsor logos on them.

The term pitbull seemed fitting. Gentle and kind at heart, but not someone you want to be on the business side of his wrath.

He passed by without a wavering glance in my direction. His gaze was hard as stone. His eyes wild, yet focused. He didn’t run or jog. He stalked his way to the cage. I had no idea how it was possible to be so disengaged from the crowd, yet still totally engaged. It was mesmerizing. Surreal and the audience was eating it up.

Ford stomped into the cage like a storm rolling in off the Gulf. Fierce, yet eerily calm. He didn’t yell or dance around. It gave me chills the way he locked eyes on the now obviously nervous Kip Harding, who was trying to show off for the crowd.

I would not want to be the one in the path of Hurricane Ford right now.

The announcer went on to cover what I guessed to be the usual details. “You can touch gloves now if you wish.” Harding put up his hands only to have Ford turn his back and prowl back to his side of the cage.

Before I knew it, both men charged at one another. Harding got in a good hook kick, but Ford recovered and retaliated with a tag to Harding’s left ear. They both worked jabs and combinations. Ford must have grown tired of the dancing around because as soon as there was an opening, he planted his foot right in the center of Harding’s chest, sending him reeling into the fencing.

I tried to listen to the commentator. He was saying something about Harding having an effective reach and Ford being the master of combinations.

Don’t I know it
? I touched my fingers to my lips.

The referee broke them up. Harding used the time to toy with the crowd. Ford never took his eyes off his opponent as he paced a small patch of the mat. Like a predator eyeballing his prey. After a few seconds, they prepared for another round.

It’s go time.

Harding came out swinging with a flying elbow to Ford’s head. I watched as he shook it off and barreled into Harding, giving him a knee to the gut. Harding doubled over. Ford proceeded to pound him in the head.

The referee stepped in, breaking them apart before allowing them to start again. This time Ford slips his arm under Harding’s and the crowd explodes as if they know something I don’t. Ford’s hand moved. His body pivoted and then I see it.

He literally bent Harding’s body in half, sending him backwards. Once he had him immobilized on the mat, Ford pinned his chest with his body weight. There was rolling and sliding. Then I saw Ford’s curled up frame strain with everything he had. His white teeth clenched. He squeezed his eyes shut with every vein fighting to break free.

The mob was hysterical as Harding tapped out, declaring Ford the Pitbull Herveaux the reigning Light Heavyweight champion. “Let the Bodies Hit the Floor” blasted through the stadium. The referee held Ford’s arm in the air.

My weightless body buzzed with adrenaline. I don’t know when it happened, but I was on my feet, cheering with the crowd and chanting Ford’s name.

Boss and Jake rushed the cage, clapping Ford on the back and shoulders. Everything happened so fast. Before Kip Harding even had a chance to get up off the floor completely, Ford found me in all the chaos. The hard, dangerous stare gave way to the familiar, intoxicating blue. I didn’t know which Ford I wanted more. I intended on relishing both.

CHAPTER EIGHT

A
fter celebratory drinks, Ford and I made a quick beeline for our room. He wore his swollen eye and bruises as a badge of honor. His cheek had already turned a bright shade of reddish purple. His lip was busted in two different places and both ears were battered and red.

BOOK: Body Lock
10.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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