“I’m holding a really important sparring match on Saturday. Some extra training for Tate. I need you to be his partner.”
Tommy blinked. Next to Dante, Tate Donovan was Mike’s biggest name in the gym—an honor Tommy used to hold before everything went south. Tate was only one win away from being a contender for the Middleweight belt. Tommy didn’t know how he felt about being the practice dummy for a man who wanted to claim his former title.
“Can’t Dante fill in?”
“He’s welterweight.”
“He’s a title holder, Mike,” he shot back. “He’d be just as good, if not better, than me, even with the weight difference.” Mike was already shaking his head. Tommy persisted, “Okay, if not Dante, there are other middleweight guys in the gym. Why not one of them?”
“They don’t have the experience you do. I want this match to be as close to the real thing as possible.
This is a very important training session, okay? It has to be you.”
Tommy studied his coach, noted the shifting of feet and tension coming off him. “You’re not telling me something.”
“I’ve told you everything you need to know. You’d better be in here training your ass off this week. Got it?”
One thing Tommy had learned long ago was when his coach started throwing “Got it?” around, he was dead serious and wouldn’t take any more arguing. Tommy held up his hands in surrender. “All right. I’ll spar with Tate on Saturday.”
…
With a huge sigh of relief, Tommy opened the front door to the house, totally exhausted. Mike had made him stay for some extra training and had run him through the ringer. He dropped his duffel bag on the floor, then flopped backward on the couch and tugged the baseball cap over his eyes.
“Rough day?”
Julie’s voice came from beside him. Without thought, he reached out his free hand, blindly searching for her. When she placed her hand in his, he yanked her down on top of him and rolled them to their sides, knocking the hat onto the floor. He inserted one of his legs between hers, put his hand on her hip, and snuggled deeper into the cushion. The sweet lavender scent that was Julie soothed him as nothing else could.
“Tommy,” she whispered.
“Hmm?”
“Why don’t you take a shower?”
He cracked one eye. “Are you telling me I stink?” Not possible. He’d actually taken a shower before he left the gym.
She chuckled. “You are a little ripe.”
A slow grin came to his face as he caught the teasing tone of her voice. Someone wanted to play. He was completely game. “Holy shit. You are telling me I stink.”
“Yeah, and you’re getting it all over me.”
“Oh. I can make sure it gets all over you.” He rolled her under him.
Her squeal of laughter bounced around the room as she squirmed. “Tommy! No!” She gasped and he attacked her side. “That tickles.”
“Seems to me you’re the one getting it all over you now.” Grinning, he released her and gazed down at her, her face bright with laughter, eyes shining. So beautiful. Slowly, he felt his smile fade.
Dipping his head, he captured her lips and brought his hand up to cup her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her soft skin as he caressed the inside of her mouth with his tongue. He ran his palm down her throat, and lower, kneading her breast and tweaking the erect nipple that greeted his palm. She sucked in a breath, shifting beneath him so he fit between her legs.
Lust flared through him, hot and potent. He rubbed against her, pinching the tip a little harder. She whimpered his name and grabbed his ass, pressing him fully into her, and suddenly he had to be inside her.
This time, however, he was going to get his damn clothes off first.
He shoved to his feet and held out his hand.
As she slipped her hand in it, she asked, “Where are we going?”
“I think you said I need a shower.”
A slow smile curved her lips. “I do believe I did.”
He yanked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. Her delighted squeal made something light and warm bloom in his chest, and he popped her on her ass, chuckling as she squealed again. He didn’t put her back on her feet until they were in the bathroom. After placing a condom within reach, he turned on the water then tugged his shirt over his head.
“Touch me,” he said.
Desperate to have her hands on him for a change, he squared his shoulders, bringing his chest forward.
When she pressed her palms against it, he closed his eyes and stifled a groan. God, it felt so fucking good to have her hands skate over his skin. Her lips closed over his nipple as her fingers wandered lower and grazed the front of his pants.
If that was the way she wanted it…
He yanked her T-shirt over her head, and seconds later had both their pants off. Spinning her around so her back was against his chest, he slid one of his arms around between her breasts, clamped onto her shoulder, and slid his other hand down over her belly until he cupped between her legs.