Fighting Shadows (On the Ropes #2)

“How the hell did she end up with Liv?” I asked Leo.

“She called Q this morning and got her number. I’ll be honest. It was just luck that I found her so quickly. I was looking for my keys to come over here when Sarah told me Liv had taken the car to go shopping. Called Liv to tell her to get her ass back home and she told me she was with Ash.” He shrugged. “I’m still billing you though. And just so you know, Sundays are time and a half.” He laughed.

I didn’t. I was fuming.

I was pissed at myself for having overreacted and assumed the worst, but also at Ash for not at least leaving a note to let me know where she had gone.

But mainly at myself.

“All right. Thanks for coming over, but if she’s on her way back, I need all of you to get the fuck out.”





“Where the fuck have you been?” Flint growled from the couch the second I walked though the door.

I set my bags down on the ground and ran my fingers through my freshly trimmed hair. “I’m starting to sense a pattern forming here. Is that the way you’re planning to greet me every time you see me? Because I have to be honest. It’s not working for me.”

“It is when I’ve spent half the day thinking you took off again.”

“What?” I asked, surprised. “Why would you think that? I just went to run some errands.”

“You couldn’t leave a note?” he asked rudely.

I swayed my head from side to side, pretending to consider it. “I guess I could. I just didn’t think about it.” I shrugged. “Hey, guess what?”

He didn’t ask the obligatory, “What?” He just blinked at me in disbelief.

Finally, I asked, “What?”

“I spent the entire morning worried about you. I destroyed my coffee maker and was about twelve seconds away from a nervous breakdown. And you want me to ‘guess what’?” He threw up some very angry air quotes.

“Well I’m sorry to hear that, but it’s a really good ‘guess what.’” I waggled my eyebrows then repeated, “Guess what?”

He dropped his head back to stare up at the ceiling, mumbling what sounded like a prayer for patience.

Apparently, Flint Page was not a fan of guessing games, so I just went straight to the point. “I got a job! You are looking at the newest shampoo girl at To Dye For. I saw the help wanted sign, went in and talked to the owner this morning. Bam! Ten minutes later, I was employed and getting a new free haircut. Then—oh, this is my favorite part—Liv and I went to the thrift shop and I found the most adorable little black dress for our date tonight. It’s really simple, but it makes my boobs look amazing.”

Flint blew out an exasperated sigh then leveled me with a glare. “Ash, just get naked.”

I took my shirt off before I asked, “Seriously?”

He pushed to his feet. “I’ve had the worst day imaginable, and you for some reason have zero grasp of that. You seem to apologize best naked, so I’m cashing in the angry fuck.” He grabbed his dick, which was suddenly bulging from the front of his athletic shorts.

My tongue snaked out to lick my lips. “I do like those kind of apologies,” I whispered, reaching back to unclasp my bra.

“Go get in bed. I’ll be there in a minute.”

I continued to stare as his hand disappeared into the front of his shorts. Then I walked over, stopping directly in front of him. “Can I help with that?” I guided my fingers down over the ripples of his abs and under his waistband.

When my fingertips brushed the head of his cock, a firm hand landed against my ass. I dropped my forehead against his chest. Sparks sent blood rushing to my clit, and a strangled moan flew from my mouth.

He removed my hand from his shorts but taunted me by pulling his hard-on out and continuing to stroke it between us. “I said. Go. Get. In. Bed.”

“Okay. Okay.” I relented, sauntering away.

“You better be naked when I get there, too.”

“Bossy, bossy, bossy,” I chanted, but I started shimmying out of my jeans before I’d even turned the corner down the hall.

After toeing my shoes off, I hopped into the bedroom, tugging my jeans down my legs. My panties quickly followed as I climbed onto the bed.

Not even a full minute later, Flint entered the room, dragging one of his kitchen stools behind him. He walked straight to the nightstand and retrieved a strip of condoms.

I tossed him my best sultry smile, but he hadn’t been kidding about the whole angry thing.

He.

Looked.

Pissed.

“Flip over and put your ass in the air,” he demanded, stopping at the foot of he bed. Upon taking his crutches off, he tossed them to the other side of the bed. After dropping the condoms on the bed next to me, he pushed his shorts off and settled on the stool. “And back up.”

I didn’t argue.

Holy shit. Angry Flint is hot.