“This sucks,” I say under my breath as I drop down into my desk chair in my home office.
I check the clock. Five fifteen in the morning. I sip my coffee and curse my publicist for setting up these interviews.
I’m at my desk when I should be wrapped around Raven. My girl’s flawless bare body molded to mine, surrounded by her smell, it was nearly impossible to walk away.
I log into my email and open the one from my publicist. This is the absolute worst part of being a fighter, the publicity shit. Some guys get off on it, but most of us hate it. The radio station interviews are the lesser of the publicity evils. At least I get to do it from home in my flannel pants. If I had my cell I could do this from my bed with Raven in my arms. I shake my head and make a note to get myself a new phone first thing.
Scanning the email, looking for the number, I notice I’m fifteen minutes late. I shrug. Fuck ’em. I made love for the first time in my life to the girl of my dreams. They can wait.
I punch in the number listed on the email. I give the producer my name and wait, my thoughts drifting back to last night. I’ve never had a sexual experience like that. Owen wasn’t fucking around when he said sex was different when you do it with someone you love. And Raven, the girl had zero experience, but damn if she didn’t light up like a fucking Roman candle. Those panties, her moaning, body arching, begging for my attention. I groan and readjust my pants.
And here, I thought I’d lose interest? Once would never be enough—shit, a lifetime would never be enough of Raven. She just gave me a taste of what she has to offer, and I’m famished, completely starving for more.
“To all our radio listeners out there, we have a special treat for you today.” The voice on the phone rips me from my happy place. “Jonah ‘The Assassin’ Slade is taking a break from his rigorous training schedule to give us an exclusive interview. His fight with Heavyweight Champion Victor Del Toro for the belt is September fourteenth at Mandalay Bay. Jonah, thanks for taking the time to talk to us.”
“Of course, thanks for having me.” I roll my eyes.
“Victor Del Toro has been the reigning Heavyweight Champion for over six years. Are you confident that you can beat him?”
“Absolutely. I think my record speaks for itself. I haven’t lost a fight yet and don’t plan on losing one now.” I grimace at my blatant lie because that’s exactly what I plan on doing.
“Del Toro has what you call a glass jaw. Can you explain what that is to our listeners?”
“Sure, glass jaw refers to someone who gets knocked out easily. It’s Del Toro’s Achilles’ heel. But the guy is the reigning Heavyweight Champion and has been for six years, so he’s no pansy. Weak jaw or not, the guy can fight.”
“Now, you, ‘Assassin,’ have a mean right hook. We can assume that your powerful right hook combined with Del Toro’s glass jaw means he has very little chance of winning this fight?”
“No, not necessarily. The key to a great fighter is to know your weakness. He trains to protect his jaw at all costs. I could throw a dozen killer right hooks, but they only work if I land them. He’ll be on guard the entire fight.”
“Last question, you have a reputation of being . . . how should I say . . . friendly with the ladies? Rumor has it you’ve been seen around town with a sexy brunette. Our sources say it’s Raven Morretti, a local car mechanic.” The interviewer and his co-host laugh before finishing. “Is ‘The Assassin’ settling down?”
No, he fucking did not.
I grind my teeth and my muscles tense. Leaning forward, resting my elbows on my desk, I speak clearly to keep from being misunderstood.
“Not gonna discuss my personal life, guys, but I will say this.” My voice sounds low and menacing even to my ears. “You talk about Raven, I’ll pay a personal visit to your studio and we’ll have words. You get me?”
“Whoa! You heard it here, folks. Sounds like The Las Vegas Casanova is finally settling—”
Click.
Shit. How did I not think about this? This fight is huge for Vegas. She’s going to get thrown into the middle of the media firestorm. As if the girl doesn’t have enough to deal with already. I need to protect her. But how? I’ll make sure we lie low until the fight’s over. Briefing Raven on the situation should help to prepare her for what she’s up against.
Running away with her and living out the remainder of our days on some deserted island doesn’t sound like a bad idea after all.
I make a few more calls: two for interviews and one for a new cell phone to be delivered to my house. It’s eight fifteen, and I haven’t heard a sound come out of my room. Raven must still be asleep. I plan on crawling back in bed with her when I hear the water running in my bathroom. Or a shower? I smile as visions of shower sex with Raven infiltrate my mind.