Fighting for Love (Second Chances #4)(25)

“I love the noises you make, baby. It’s so f*cking hot,” he growled low.

Almost instantly, he pushed inside of me … hard. Not only did I gasp, but I cried out so loud I could barely recognize the sound of my own voice. I was throbbing and wet, fully ready for him, ready for him to give me all that he had. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I rocked my hips along with his and held on tight, crying out with each thrust. The muscles in his back tightened and flexed as he worked his body to give us both pleasure, and I made sure to let him know how good it felt by grazing my fingernails all the way down to his ass.

I was so close to losing it again, my body clenching tight around his cock, which pulsated inside of me with every passionate thrust. “Dammit, this feels so good I don’t want to stop. I’m going to come so f*cking hard in you, angel,” he growled.

“Do it,” I begged, “I want you to.”

My breaths started coming out as pants as the ache between my legs got stronger, wilder. We were both so close, and the moment I tipped over the edge I dug my nails into his back just as he gripped onto me tighter, plunging in as deep as he could go and filling me with his release. Breathing hard, he took my face in his hands and lowered his forehead to mine.

“Promise me you’re not going to leave me again,” he murmured against my lips.

Kissing him gently, I knew within my heart that I would never leave him like I did last time. I wish I could say the same for him once he finds out what I did.

Softly, I whispered my answer, “I promise, Matt. As long as you want me, I promise I’ll always be here.”

Satisfied with my answer, he pulled out of me and settled behind me as I turned, draping his arm snugly across my stomach. Feeling safe and warm within his arms, I drifted off into the best sleep I’d had in ten years.





AFTER DROPPING SHELBY OFF AT her place late this morning, I drove the hour back to Santa Rosa, loathing the fact that in a few hours she’d be on a date with another guy. The last thing I wanted was to push her away, but dammit, if I didn’t want to tell that guy to f*ck off and say she’s mine. By the time I got back home and in the door, a text came in from Mason.

Mason: Gym? 12:30?

I had an hour to kill until then, but his text couldn’t have come in at a better time. I needed something to hit and to hit it hard.

Me: I’ll be there. Spar?

His reply was instant.

Mason: Fuck yeah!

By the time I packed up my gear and made it to the gym, Mason was already inside talking to my coach, Carter Bennett. He was the one who got me started in the whole MMA training just trying to help a poor kid out, and once I started fighting and making money, I hired him. With not having a real father figure in my life he was the closest to one I had, and he sure knew how to get my ass in line.

“How’s it going, son?” Carter called out as I approached them.

“Same old shit,” I replied, slapping him on the shoulder and nodding at Mason. “You ready to get my ass in shape?”

Carter chuckled. “Mason’s here today. I don’t think you can handle us both taking you on. I trust that he’ll get you all warmed up and ready for the ass kicking you’ll get tomorrow.”

Carter was a retired MMA fighter pushing his late forties, but if his hair wasn’t covered in all gray he’d pass for someone a decade younger. Out of all the fighters and retired ones I’d met, Carter was the shortest in height by far. His arms were about the size of mine, but he was also a foot shorter than me, too. The day I underestimated him was the day he kicked my ass in the ring about nine years ago. To this day, he was still fast as shit with a punch that’d knock you off your feet.

“Thanks, coach. I look forward to it,” I remarked sarcastically.

Patting me on the back, he grinned widely and waltzed over to a young woman who seemed confused on how to work the treadmill. “So you want to spar?” Mason asked. “Did things not go well with you and your girl last night?”

Throwing my bag in the ring, I hopped over the top and reached in for my tape and gloves. “No, things with her went great, it’s the date she’s going on tonight I have a problem with,” I told him.

Slowly, he nodded in understanding. “Ah, I see. Let me guess, you didn’t want to be all dominant male with her and tell her she couldn’t go, right? Because if you did, you’d push her away?”

“Pretty much,” I agreed, and then added, “and I know I shouldn’t worry, but f*ck if it doesn’t piss me off that she’ll be with another guy.”

Over my handwraps, I slid on a pair of new black MMA gloves and flexed my hands. They were a little stiff, but it wouldn’t take me long to break them in once I started hitting something.

Mason chuckled and smacked his gloves together. “Trust me, I know the feeling. I once had to watch another f*cker kiss Claire right in front of me.”

Mason had told me some of the things he’d witnessed when he was in Las Vegas on a mission, and I couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would be to see murder, death, and all of that messed up shit all the time. Especially, if anything involved the people I cared about like what happened to him.

“I would’ve killed him,” I said. “Honestly, I think that I would’ve killed the guy if I was in your situation.”

Nodding, he kicked his bag out of the way and replied wearily, “I almost did. Trust me, it’s a scary feeling when you get that pissed off to where you want to kill someone.”