The Fighter's Prize

“It’s okay,” she says with a wince, shaking out her hand. “I’m fine.”

“Let me see.” I pull her toward me and examine her knuckles, cursing the very day I was born when I find them red and swollen. “Ah, kotik. Baby. I am so sorry.” I kiss each of her knuckles. “I’ve never had a woman punch me before. I didn’t think. Forgive me.”

“I told you it’s fine.” She shakes her head at me. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

My stomach churns. I’ve only had my girl for one day and already I have made her sore and red in two places. “We go get some ice.”

“Maxim, I don’t need any. I promise.”

“Da?”

“Da.”

I blow out an unsteady breath. “Then I will show you other part of MMA?” Without waiting for an answer, I throw her up onto my shoulder so she is seated on her butt and facing forward, making her yelp. “You are in the octagon after a victory. Put your hands up in the air,” I say, walking her over to the mirror. “Flex your muscles like a champion.”

From her perch on my shoulder, she is laughing now, pulling back my sleeve and looking very proud of her puny bicep. I also pretend to be impressed, which makes her laugh harder.

“There you go. You are MMA fighter.”

I let her topple down into my arms and I like the way she looks up at me now through her eyelashes, her arms wrapped behind my neck. “Thank you for that,” she whispers. “I had no idea living with you was going to be so fun.”

“I am very fun guy,” I say, pretending to be offended.

She giggles again and lets me kiss her and my heart nearly pounds out of my chest.

Whitney is my heaven. I wasn’t even looking, but I found her.

And I am never leaving.

Neither is she.

5

Whitney

It’s weird that Maxim hasn’t tried to sleep with me again since last night.

Mostly because he has a pretty noticeable erection. At all times.

Instead of touching me like I sense he wants to do, he tells me more stories about Russia on the way to my apartment. I’m kind of hoping Scout will magically be there, but she isn’t. So I quickly pack a suitcase of essentials, including the script for my upcoming audition, before Maxim quickly loads me back into his SUV, as if someone is going to swoop in and steal me away. Although, after last night, that kind of thing doesn’t sound unrealistic anymore.

It’s almost time for my phone call with Scout when we get back to Maxim’s house. I rush through a shower, blow out my hair and put on a light, pink dress that brushes the tops of my thighs. Now I pace nervously, phone in hand. Maxim arrives from his own shower smelling fresh and masculine and minty…and commences pacing behind me.

At one o’clock on the dot, the phone rings.

With a sucked in breath, I answer. “Scout. Are you okay? Where are you?”

“Me? Are you okay? The Madman himself carried you out of the arena after giving Banner a concussion and no one has seen you since!”

“I’m fine! This call isn’t about me!”

“It can be about you sometimes, Whit.”

I roll my eyes, but they’re full of moisture, because I miss my sister like hell. We haven’t spent a day apart since we were kids and all of a sudden, it feels like we’re on two separate planets. “Just tell me what’s going on. Is Easton Brawn with you now?”

She sounds funny when she answers. “Yes.”

In other words, she can’t speak freely. This is why I need to see her live and in person.

“Has he hurt you?”

“No.”

“Are you allowed to leave?”

“Hard no.”

“I’m in a similar situation,” I say carefully, cutting a look toward Maxim. “I need to see you. Soon. Will you try and convince Easton?”

“Of course I will.” She sniffs. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“I had sex, Whit,” she whispers dramatically.

In the background, I hear a very male, very exasperated sigh.

“Um. Me too,” I say, heat climbing my neck. “We’ll have to compare notes soon.”

“Okay. Bye for now.”

“Bye Scout.”

When I hang up the phone, I find Maxim leaning against the nearby couch, arms crossed. “You will compare notes. What does this mean, Whitney? You will speak to her about the way we have sex? Details and such?”

I stutter through an explanation. “We…I mean, yes. We tell each other everything. This won’t be any different.”

“It is different.”

“Why?”

A muscle leaps in his jaw. “I don’t want her to know I fucked you like a wild animal your first time. She might convince you I am not good man. Make you leave me.”

“Maxim…” I rear back in confusion. “Is that why you haven’t touched me again?”

He grunts. Looks down at the floor.

Or whatever amount of the floor he can see around his erection. It’s still going strong.