Jersey Six(35)

Ian had large hands that fit perfectly with his tall frame. Chris said they played basketball together. She could imagine Ian palming a basketball with those large hands—the same ones that easily palmed her ass on the plane.

She swallowed hard from the memory of it.

Ian’s nose wrinkled. “Why do you keep wearing the same clothes you wore when I met you?”

Jersey shrugged. “Because I’m not wearing tight jeans to work out.”

“Why didn’t you get new workout clothes when Max took you shopping?” Ian sounded exasperated, like everything about Jersey irritated him.

Another shrug. “Because I didn’t see any at the store, and she said we needed things for me to wear while working.”

He frowned. Jersey’s body stiffened when his hand brushed her side, reaching for the doorknob. She squatted down to grab her bag.

“Let’s go.”



In the taxi on the way to the gym, Ian texted Max to let her know their whereabouts and instruct her to go buy new workout clothes for Jersey ASAP.

She wasn’t the only one in need of a bag to hit that morning. A crowd of men and women filled the space. Ian purchased a day pass for Jersey, drawing more attention to himself than he wanted that morning. He wasn’t ready for autographs and selfies, but without a hat and sunglasses, it was unavoidable.

After the last picture, he found a dark corner to hide in that still gave him a good view of Jersey. In her baggy sweats and a soiled, white-ish tank top, she beat the hell out of a large punching bag before moving on to a speed bag.

Ian narrowed his eyes as another boxer, a woman a little older and a lot bigger than Jersey, approached her. She wore a cocky grin, pointing to the empty ring in the middle of the room. Jersey twisted her lips and shrugged, following the woman to the ring.

A guy who worked at the gym stepped into the ring as well, chatting with Jersey and the other woman as they stood huddled together. Both women nodded and tapped gloves. The guy stepped back against the ropes and hit a bell.

The larger, taller woman slipped in a mouth guard. Jersey didn’t have one in her mouth. Ian eased out of the shadows, feeling a twinge of concern for Jersey’s teeth. Her opponent had to be at least twice Jersey’s size. His new employee carried nothing but hard muscles on her bones. Jersey wasn’t soft and curvy, but rather five feet, seven inches of sharp bones and steely muscles with a thick, dark mane.

Jersey reminded Ian of a racing horse, a filly less likely to win but filled with as much determination as the favored colts.

Her confident challenger threw the first punch. Jersey bobbed to easily avoid the hit. Her opponent had fast feet and good form. Jersey stood idle like a bright red target, her hands limp at her sides instead of up by her face—protecting her teeth!

Ian’s phone vibrated. “Yeah?”

“We’re out front. You’re going to be late if you don’t hurry up.” Max’s scolding tone nipped at his ear.

“Okay.” Ian ended the call and weaved his way toward the ring, planting himself in Jersey’s line of sight.

She dodged another attempt by her opponent and glanced at Ian. He held up his wrist and tapped the face to his watch. Jersey nodded several times and dropped the larger woman with one hard, fast hit. The employee rushed to the woman’s aid, waving another employee over to the unconscious woman.

Ian cringed.

Jersey? She ducked between the ropes like nothing happened and tugged the ties to her gloves with her teeth, trapping one glove under her arm to pull it off and then the other.

“You knocked her out.” Ian watched in concern as they tended to the woman. By the time Jersey stuffed her gloves into her bag and pulled on her hoodie, they had the woman on her feet, pressing a towel to her bloodied nose.

“Coop, it’s boxing. What the fuck did you think I was going to do to her? Braid her hair?” Jersey made her way to the exit.

Ian shook his head, still in shock, and followed her out of the building to the SUV waiting for them.

“Morning. Did you get your shit worked out?” Max twisted her body to scowl at Jersey. With a quick sniff, her scowl deepened.

“It was okay.” Jersey drank from the bottle of water that Ian gave her.

He eyed her, waiting for her to share the story of how she knocked that woman out, but it didn’t seem to faze Jersey one bit.

“We have an hour and a half. We’ll go back to the hotel so you two can get showered … separately,” Max murmured.

Jersey turned her head toward Ian, studying the hickey on his neck before meeting his gaze. A smile played along her lips. That … that was what made her smile? Ian couldn’t believe the fight did nothing, but a hickey made her happy.

His dick stirred in his pants. After Jersey’s striptease on the plane, he needed something. A quick lay. A hand job. A blowjob … or just an extra five minutes in the shower. The woman possessed something he didn’t anticipate—a look. Jersey had a subtle beauty, one you might miss if you didn’t look closely. Over the previous weeks, her body had gained a few soft curves, her face began to fill out, taking the edge off, no longer gauntly. But it was her eyes, it had always been her eyes, that told her story, shared every emotion. Earthy browns, rich like shades of clay, deep, and full of wonder and desire, heartbreak and determination. She could ball her hands and clench her teeth, but her eyes never lied.