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Authors: Abby Niles

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Fighting Love (Love to the Extreme) (25 page)

BOOK: Fighting Love (Love to the Extreme)
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She smiled through her aching desire. So damn predictable. Thank God.

Slowly, she bent over the arm, feeling the sheer fabric of the skirt rise over her butt. To tease

him, she wiggled her backside.

A snap on her cheek as he plucked her garter made her squeak, then moan as he rubbed the

area with his palm.

“Don’t tease me, Julie,” he ground out.

She was so tempted. She loved the feel of his hand on her ass.

“Damn, you’re so beautiful.”

His palms glided over the swell of her cheeks, and low around to the front of her thighs. He

nudged her backward. His cock probed her center, then scythed deep into her. A sharp breath

flew from her lungs. And then there was no thought. Just Tommy, his fingers biting into her hips

as he thrust into her from behind.

Over and over.

Faster and faster.

Harder and harder.

Until he had drilled himself into every fiber of her being.

When she came for the second time, he quickly followed. And she knew she would never, ever

be the same again.


Hell. He hadn’t even taken his damn pants off.

Tommy shoved himself back into his jeans and zipped up as Julie straightened. Turning away

from her, he scrubbed his hands across his face. God, how could he have done that? He knew he’d

wanted Julie…horribly. But to the point he hadn’t even taken off his pants, his shoes…not even his

damn shirt? While all she’d had on was that flimsy skirt that hid nothing, a garter belt, stockings,

and those fuck-me-hard heels.

God, he hadn’t even undressed her completely. Just bent her over and took her.

He was such a bastard.

Making himself face her, he noticed she was grimacing as she tried to move.

Skin going cold, he rushed over to her. “Jesus. Did I hurt you?”

A soft laugh was his answer. “The last thing you did was hurt me, Tommy. I think you’ve

removed every muscle I have in my body. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this unhurt in my life.”

An insane amount of male satisfaction shot through him and he couldn’t help a smile. “No

complaints, then?”

“Not a damn one.” She gave him a sleepy smile, her eyelids at half masts.

So she wasn’t bothered by the way he’d taken her? The roughness? The lack of caressing?

Holding? Finesse…?

He helped her onto the couch and she leaned back against the cushions, closing her eyes, a

light, contented hum seeping from her mouth. He raked his gaze over her. Her nipples were still

pebbled from her orgasm. Red marks marred her thighs from his fingers gripping her. Her skin

glowed with a pink flush. She looked completely sated…in such peace.

She was the most breathtaking woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

And he had not the slightest desire to leave.

“Need anything?” he asked, and had to clear the gruffness from his voice. “A drink. Something

to eat?”

“Glass of water would be nice,” she said without opening her eyes.

He walked toward the kitchen but stumbled to a halt when he saw the dining room table. Food

sat out on plates, and glasses of wine sparkled in the light of candles burning in the middle. A lead

weight formed in his stomach. She’d been planning a night of romance, and what had he done?

Ravished her like a wild animal. She might say that she was fine with it, but this, right here,

proved she wanted more. That she wanted the kissing, the slow dancing, the hand holding. The

cuddling in the morning.

Panic squeezed his throat. He couldn’t give her that, and she needed it…deserved it all.

So he had to walk away.

And wasn’t that the ultimate irony? The one time in his fucking life he desperately wanted to

stay, he was forced to leave.

For her sake.

He compelled himself into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, and

strode back to her. She didn’t stir.

“Julie?” he whispered.

She made a soft noise and turned her head, whispering his name. Desire burned red hot

through him. His heart clutched in agony.

No. He couldn’t walk away. Not yet. He still wanted her…had to have her. Just once more. He

had a whole damn list of different ways he wanted to take her. Pleasurable things he wanted to

show her.

Maybe he couldn’t give her true intimacy, or forever, but he could take her body places it had

never been. For right now.

After setting the water on the coffee table, he lifted her into his arms and walked down the

hall. He stopped outside her room and hesitated. Frowning, he stared at her sweet face, then at

the knob. Panic trickled through him. This was when he always left.

He had a serious, unbreakable, no-sleepover rule.

But the idea of leaving Julie on her bed and going to his own room…

Hell, no. So not happening.

Smothering a frustrated groan, he continued on to his room, tugged back the covers, and

gently laid Julie under them. She’d slept here just over a week ago. He’d liked her in his bed then,

and he liked it even more now. Loved the fact that he could reach over at any given moment and

coax her awake with small, deliberate touches. And the thought of morning sex when she was still

sleepy-eyed and disheveled from a full night’s rest? Oh, yeah. He wasn’t going anywhere, and

neither was she.

He stripped off his clothes, then crawled in beside her, propped up on his elbow, and just

watched her sleep. He’d taken his best friend. Hard and fast and unrelenting. No undoing that

now. All he could hope for was that one day she didn’t look back and regret it.

And he prayed to God he didn’t lose her completely when she realized what he already knew.

That although the sex was amazing, that’s all there would ever be.

Because that’s all he was capable of.

Chapter 12

This morning had been
so
goddamn awkward.

Pulling in controlled breaths, Tommy lowered his body toward the floor as he completed one last set of

triceps dips off the side of a workout bench. Then he shoved up and off, and jogged to the next circuit.

After straddling the next bench, he gripped the hanging bar apparatus and pulled it to his chest.

Because of the late night, they’d gone to bed without setting the alarm. Julie’s frantic cursing had woken

him up, and he’d realized she was already thirty minutes late for work.
Whoops
.

After a quick shower, she’d hastily dressed. That’s when it had gotten weird. Did he kiss her good-bye?

On the lips? Cheek?

She hadn’t seemed to know the answer, either. Finally, she’d just given him a wave and a high-pitched,

“See ya later,” and was out the door.

He jogged over to the rowing machine. How was he supposed to treat her now? She wasn’t his

girlfriend, but they were
sleeping
together while living under the same roof. Man, he sure as hell hadn’t

thought of that problem, had he? Talk about awkward.

Affection made him very uncomfortable. Which was odd, considering he’d never hesitated to wrap an

arm around Julie or kiss her hair or cheek before. But this was a different type of affection—
relationship

affection. And
that
he was so not comfortable with.

God, he couldn’t keep thinking about this. It had driven him crazy all damn morning. How hard would

it be to hold her hand? Give her a little more than just a rough tumble?

Finishing up the rowing, he jogged over to the weights, putting his focus back on his training as he did

his squat reps.

Training had been going phenomenally and had given him some hope that maybe, sometime in the

future, he’d get a chance to prove himself—where it really mattered.

In the cage.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and he glanced up to see Mike. “Let’s talk.”

Tommy set the bar back on the stand, then twisted to face his coach as he wiped sweat off his face with

a towel. “What’s up?”

“I’m holding a really important sparring match on Saturday. Some extra training for Tate. I need you to

be his partner.”

Tommy blinked. Next to Dante, Tate Donovan was Mike’s biggest name in the gym—an honor Tommy

used to hold before everything went south. Tate was only one win away from being a contender for the

Middleweight belt. Tommy didn’t know how he felt about being the practice dummy for a man who wanted

to claim his former title.

“Can’t Dante fill in?”

“He’s welterweight.”

“He’s a title holder, Mike,” he shot back. “He’d be just as good, if not better, than me, even with the

weight difference.” Mike was already shaking his head. Tommy persisted, “Okay, if not Dante, there are

other middleweight guys in the gym. Why not one of them?”

“They don’t have the experience you do. I want this match to be as close to the real thing as possible.

This is a very important training session, okay? It has to be you.”

Tommy studied his coach, noted the shifting of feet and tension coming off him. “You’re not telling me

something.”

“I’ve told you everything you need to know. You’d better be in here training your ass off this week. Got

it?”

One thing Tommy had learned long ago was when his coach started throwing “Got it?” around, he was

dead serious and wouldn’t take any more arguing. Tommy held up his hands in surrender. “All right. I’ll

spar with Tate on Saturday.”


With a huge sigh of relief, Tommy opened the front door to the house, totally exhausted. Mike had

made him stay for some extra training and had run him through the ringer. He dropped his duffel bag on

the floor, then flopped backward on the couch and tugged the baseball cap over his eyes.

“Rough day?”

Julie’s voice came from beside him. Without thought, he reached out his free hand, blindly searching

for her. When she placed her hand in his, he yanked her down on top of him and rolled them to their sides,

knocking the hat onto the floor. He inserted one of his legs between hers, put his hand on her hip, and

snuggled deeper into the cushion. The sweet lavender scent that was Julie soothed him as nothing else

could.

“Tommy,” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Why don’t you take a shower?”

He cracked one eye. “Are you telling me I stink?” Not possible. He’d actually taken a shower before he

left the gym.

She chuckled. “You
are
a little ripe.”

A slow grin came to his face as he caught the teasing tone of her voice. Someone wanted to play. He

was completely game. “Holy shit. You
are
telling me I stink.”

“Yeah, and you’re getting it all over me.”

“Oh. I can make sure it gets all over you.” He rolled her under him.

Her squeal of laughter bounced around the room as she squirmed. “Tommy! No!” She gasped and he

attacked her side. “That tickles.”

“Seems to me you’re the one getting it all over you now.” Grinning, he released her and gazed down at

her, her face bright with laughter, eyes shining.
So beautiful
. Slowly, he felt his smile fade.

Dipping his head, he captured her lips and brought his hand up to cup her cheek, rubbing his thumb

over her soft skin as he caressed the inside of her mouth with his tongue. He ran his palm down her throat,

and lower, kneading her breast and tweaking the erect nipple that greeted his palm. She sucked in a breath,

shifting beneath him so he fit between her legs.

Lust flared through him, hot and potent. He rubbed against her, pinching the tip a little harder. She

whimpered his name and grabbed his ass, pressing him fully into her, and suddenly he had to be inside her.

This time, however, he was going to get his damn clothes off first.

He shoved to his feet and held out his hand.

As she slipped her hand in it, she asked, “Where are we going?”

“I think you said I need a shower.”

A slow smile curved her lips. “I do believe I did.”

He yanked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. Her delighted squeal made something light and

warm bloom in his chest, and he popped her on her ass, chuckling as she squealed again. He didn’t put her

back on her feet until they were in the bathroom. After placing a condom within reach, he turned on the

water then tugged his shirt over his head.

“Touch me,” he said.

Desperate to have her hands on him for a change, he squared his shoulders, bringing his chest forward.

When she pressed her palms against it, he closed his eyes and stifled a groan. God, it felt so fucking good to

have her hands skate over his skin. Her lips closed over his nipple as her fingers wandered lower and

grazed the front of his pants.

If that was the way she wanted it…

He yanked her T-shirt over her head, and seconds later had both their pants off. Spinning her around so

her back was against his chest, he slid one of his arms around between her breasts, clamped onto her

shoulder, and slid his other hand down over her belly until he cupped between her legs.

With his mouth to her ear, he walked them into the spray of the shower and murmured,

BOOK: Fighting Love (Love to the Extreme)
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