Sneak Attack (Tapped Out 2)

“So they didn’t react kindly to you punching Lorenzo.”

“And I’m supposed to care, I presume?” She leaned in the chair and kicked out a long, jean-clad leg. The insolent curl to her lips warmed my heart more than I could verbalize.

There was my Mia, not this quiet, accepting version she’d been since last night. I wasn’t against change, or progress, or growth. I knew she would have to go through many different levels to process her grief from what had occurred before I’d ever met her. Lorenzo’s callous words had ripped open the wound last night and sent her right back into that hell. She’d dig her way out however she could, and I would support her.

But the woman I’d fallen in love with, the one full of bravado and fiercer than any man I’d ever met in the ring, was now staring at me across the table. Finally.

Thank God.

“There you are,” I said, unable to disguise the emotion in my voice. My fingers tightened on hers. “Don’t leave me again.”

Her chin trembled and her eyes grew bright. “I don’t know if I can promise that, Tray. I don’t know if I have the right to make any promises at all.”

“You listen to me.” I pushed aside my plate and moved around the table to crouch at her feet. I touched her cheek, my throat working at the warm wetness that dripped on my fingertips. “You don’t have to promise me anything. You and me, we don’t need words. We’re beyond all that.”

“It’s not fair,” she whispered. “None of this is fair to you.”

“Says fucking who? I made my choice. You’re what I choose, always.”

She shut her eyes, tears brimming over.

“I can see how you feel when I look in your eyes. You look in mine, and you know the same.” I kissed her softly, tasting the salt on her lips. “We don’t need anything else. It’s you and me, baby. Back to back. Always.”

Her eyes opened and she cupped my face in her hands. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Oh yes, you sure as hell do. Warts and all. Just like I deserve you.”

She let out a hitching laugh, one that only grew louder when I scooped her up into my arms. I carted her to the bed and tossed her on top of the mattress without bothering to peel back the covers, crawling over her to cage her in with my hands and my hips. “Talk later,” I said before my mouth crashed down on hers.

She was already rising to meet me, her hands grasping at my clothes, pushing them up and pulling them down to find skin. I was equally greedy, slipping my hand under her top, forcing it upward until her white strapless bra came into view. I yanked it down and her breasts spilled out the top, her nipples already hard and pink. I closed my teeth around one and she bowed back, her fingers weaving into my hair to hold me in place while I switched my attention between them, biting and licking until they were beaded and tight and she was revving underneath me, her breaths on the verge of moans.

Romance. This wasn’t that. This was about to be a full-on fuck, and I couldn’t seem to slow the train. I needed inside her. Needed to feel all that heat and want close around me, and to give back as good as I got.

Just needed her. Hard. Fast. Mine.

“Next time,” I promised.

She seemed to know what I meant, because she nodded and tugged at my shirt, helping me drag it over my head and toss it aside. My jeans were next. We worked on them together, hands fumbling, mouths hungry as she sucked on my tongue and writhed against me. She slid her hand inside my boxers and found me thick and pulsing, the tip wet. She gathered the wetness and spread it up my length, using it to power her long, strong strokes. No one had ever touched me like her. Her hands were lethal weapons, in and out of the octagon.

Her dark eyes riveted to mine, holding me still in the center of the chaos taking over my body. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t look away. All I could do was accept whatever she dished out.

Gratefully.

When I couldn’t take another second, I shoved down my jeans and boxers, kicking them off with my sneakers. I turned and grabbed her feet, hauling her to the end of the bed so I could work on her boots. She chuckled when I threw them over my shoulders, and the tears starring her lashes as she laughed knotted my gut.

I’d make it better. I’d take all her pain away, if I had to die trying.

After pulling her jeans down her legs, I let them crumple to the floor. The scrap of white lace she wore made me swear and she glanced down self-consciously. “I should’ve worn a different pair…” She trailed off.

“These are perfect. More than.” Widening her legs, I moved between them and slid the creamy fabric aside. “I’m going to fuck you while you have them on. I want to see myself going in and out of you surrounded by all that purity, and know we have none left together.” I grabbed her chin and crushed my lips to hers. “We’re the same, baby. Back to back,” I repeated, and she nodded, eyes shining.

On this one point, I didn’t want her to fight.

She reached up to shed her shirt, and I reached behind her to undo her bra. I threw it off the bed and cocked my head, unable to look away. She didn’t flinch away from my perusal, but I saw the questions in her eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” I smudged my thumb over her lower lip and my cock jerked as she nipped the tip, her eyes never leaving mine. She didn’t believe me. Probably never would. But I didn’t care, because I’d tell her for every day for the rest of my life.

“So are you,” she said, and the darkness in her expression lifted long enough to let the light through.