Survivor (First to Fight #2)(6)

Lucky for me.

When the door closes and footsteps follow, Sofie looks up at me, her eyes wide. I should pull back, let her fix her clothes, but I don’t. I strum faster and her eyes go even wider. My fingers are slipping and sliding over her now, so much that I can’t keep any type of rhythm.

The footsteps grow closer.

We’ve got a couple minutes—maybe less—if they’re heading this way. Based on her frantic movements, she’s almost there. I use my chest to keep her pressed against the wall and hitch her leg all the way around my hip. With that hand, I dip inside the back of her shorts and find her. I add teasing fingers to her entrance, and that’s all it takes. She bucks against me, and I take her mouth to swallow the sounds of her orgasm. She whimpers as it fades, panting, chest heaving.

The person down the hall coughs, their shoes squeak. As their steps get closer, I reluctantly remove my hands from her pants and straighten her bra and shirt. The latter, I do so slowly, memorizing the look her of her like this.

Vulnerable. Sexy as f*ck.

All mine.

The door opens and closes again and more footsteps echo down the hall, startling us from the seclusion of the shadowed corner.

“You okay?” I take a step back, adjusting my dick so it doesn’t tent the front of my pants. At least not more than it already is.

Sofie kisses my jaw, her hands pressed to my chest. I suck in deep breaths to try and clear my head, but the scent of her lingers, driving me wild, making my mouth water. She shifts by me, her body brushing against my overly sensitive skin as she picks up her discarded purse and I nearly growl out loud in frustration.

The first person rounds the corner just as Sofie bends at the waist, surreptitiously getting a drink of water from the fountain. I try not to look at her twisted shorts, the seams visibly askew, or her shirt, still crumpled in my hurried attempt to make her look like she hadn’t just come apart in my arms.

“Shit, Jack,” comes a voice. Damian ambles up with a grin, a towel slung around his neck. “The f*ck are you doin’?”

“Hey, man.” I nod at him, stepping a little closer toward Sofie on instinct. He may be a friend, but I sure as shit don’t want him—or anyone—close to her after what we just shared. “You here for practice?”

“Yeah, gotta get ready for that tournament coming up.” His eyes flit over to Sofie, but he doesn’t mention her flushed face or disheveled clothes, though we both know what we’re doing back here.

“I didn’t know you were gonna get in that. Congrats, man. I’m sure you’re gonna do great.”

He nods his gratitude. “Your old man mentioned you were back in town. We should get together sometime before you ship out again.”

I start to guide Sofie around him. “Sure, definitely.”

“Was this the girl you’ve been telling me about?” He holds out a hand in Sofie’s direction. “This guy couldn’t stop talking about you. I’m Damian.”

Sofie glances at me, then back at him before offering her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

When Dad first signed Damian on a couple weeks ago, I had reservations. The tour in Iraq was a tough one for him and I wasn’t sure he’d be up to the training, the fights, the travel. He’s a wildcard, always has been, and an absolute demon in the ring, but Dad had been adamant.

“We need that kinda blood in the business,” he’d said.

I agreed, not that I had shit to say about the business.

“This place will be yours someday. Remember that. The decisions I make now will affect you in the years to come.”

It was pointless to argue with him, besides, it turns out Damian did revitalize interest in MMA at the gym, which was good for our bottom line. Didn’t really matter to me either way. I didn’t plan on sticking around. I’d known I wanted to join the Marines for years, follow in his footsteps to join the infantry, then the Marine Corps Martial Arts Program, also known as MCMAP. Eventually, I wanted to become an instructor.

I just wasn’t sure if I would be able to continue those steps and retire to be a small business owner. How could I go from being a hero to working in this backwoods town? He may have been okay with it, but I sure as hell wasn’t.

Of course, I didn’t tell him that at the time, so I just shrugged and brushed it off.

“We’d better get back,” I grunt. “Maybe we can make plans sometime this week?”

“Sounds good, man.”

I turn and bump into Sofie, the change in momentum causes her purse to fall off her shoulder and spill out of her grasping hands to the ground. Papers, pens, and a lone Chapstick scatter over the floor.

I kneel down to help her gather up her things when my eye catches on a familiar logo, one I’d been dreading.

Damian fades to the back of my mind once I catch a glimpse of Sofie’s face.





Present



ANOTHER SUMMER STORM beats at my windshield, but this time, I don’t begrudge the rain. It keeps me camouflaged as I watch the funeral proceedings from a distance. After getting caught by Jack, the last thing I want to do is run into him again.

Even though I can’t hear the reverend’s speeches or the consoling words from friends and family, I can feel them. Pressure builds in my chest until it feels like I’m being pressed into my car seat by a huge boulder. Tears burn my eyes and blur my vision, turning the world around me into one giant teardrop.