I grunted.
“Well, what about Cole and Ryan? They’re getting pretty good. It’ll be time soon for qualifiers. Do you think they’re ready?”
Ren was thinking about the business and the two stooges downstairs, but I’d been thinking about something else.
“Do you ever think that we’ll get married?” I asked.
Ren snorted, lifting her head so she could make a face at me.
“What?” I asked. “You wouldn’t want to get married?”
She screwed up her nose. “White, flooffy dresses?”
“That’s just the actual thing. The getting married part,” I said, holding her tight. “And the dress doesn’t have to be flooffy. Hey, is flooffy an actual word?”
“Everything I say is an actual word,” she replied, feigning sarcasm.
“But have you ever thought about it?”
She narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t need a bit of paper to say that I love you.”
She wasn’t interested, and the idea that she didn’t want to be bound to me like that, had me slightly disappointed. I didn’t care for dressing up and declaring my love in front of people. I’d be content to just sign the papers, put a ring on her finger and be done with it. No ‘flooffy’, white dresses, cakes, flowers or cameras. Just her and me like it had always been. Violet might kill me when she found out, but I just wanted Ren.
“It bothers you?” Ren asked, pulling away slightly.
“It doesn’t matter,” I muttered.
“Ash—”
“I want you any way I can have you,” I interrupted before it became an argument. That was the last thing I wanted the first morning she stayed over in her new apartment.
Grasping her face in my hands, I laid one on her, pressing my lips against hers. She sank against me, shoved her breasts against my chest and forced her leg between mine. Grinding my stiffening cock against her thigh, her lips curled into a grin.
“Animal,” she murmured.
“I have a three minute commute that doesn’t need to start for at least another hour,” I said.
“Your toast is getting cold.”
“Fuck the toast.” I tangled my fingers into her hair.
“After all that fuss with the switch?”
“Don’t push it, Spitfire.” I tugged her head back and kissed her neck.
Her hands moved up my back, shoving at my T-shirt, and I reached behind my head and yanked the material off, flinging it onto the kitchen island.
“That’s much better,” Ren murmured, rubbing her hands along my skin.
Walking her backward toward the couch, I replied, “You love getting me naked.”
“Just as much as you love getting me naked.”
She shoved me hard on the chest, and I fell down onto the couch. Instantly, I realized how she wanted it. On top. Fine by me.
She pulled off her T-shirt and exposed her naked breasts. Her pajama bottoms and knickers soon followed. Shoving my pants off, she straddled my lap, her knees either side of my thighs and her pussy wide open.
Biting her bottom lip, her hand curled around my cock and began stroking. Flexing into her palm, I hissed sharply.
“You know all the right buttons,” I said through a grunt as she lowered her body and stroked her clit with the head of my cock.
“What can I say?” she asked breathlessly. “I’m a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to go after it.”
Guiding me to her opening, she pressed down so I slipped just inside.
“Ren,” I muttered. “Don’t be such a tease.”
“I’m in control now, Maverick,” she said wickedly. “It turns me on watching a big, powerful man squirm and beg.”
“Then I’ll owe you one night of frustration,” I retorted.
Her lips curved into a smile, and she raised her hand, her fingers running over my lips. “So impatient.”
Lowering onto my erection, her breath fluttered against my lips in a contented sigh. It had my balls flaring long before I had her completely filled, and my hands tightened on her hips.
“Spitfire,” I murmured, brushing my lips against hers.
Ren’s hands tightened in my hair, tugging as she swirled her hips, driving me deeper. Then she held, her mouth covering mine, her tongue delving against my own in a long kiss that had both our bodies shuddering against one another.
Rubbing my hands up and down her back, I pulled away and flexed underneath her. “Ride me.”
She answered with a moan before raising her body off mine. I felt every inch of her as she moved up my cock before sinking back down again, and she was the most beautiful creature I’d ever had. I’d never look at another woman again like I did her.
Grasping my shoulders, she rose again, working her body up to orgasm on mine. We moved together, chasing the high that came when our bodies were locked against one another. I knew she was getting there when her skin began to heat and her breathing picked up. My balls were tight, and I needed to take control and take her hard.
Grabbing her hips, I thrust into her and guiding her movements, I helped her increase the pace from punishing to obliterating. Luckily, I’d put a load of soundproofing into the walls because, right now, all I could hear were her moans and the seductive slap of our bodies joining over and over.
“Don’t stop.” She gasped. “Don’t stop, I’m close…”
“Give it to me.” I grunted as her head dropped into the crook of my neck, and her teeth bit into my skin.
She tightened around my cock with a cry, and it was all it took to take me with her. We came hard together, pulsing and crashing, reveling in this unexplainable thing we had with each other. Love, desire, all of those words that never seemed to do any justice for the way I felt about her.
Ren crumpled against me, her cheek pressing against mine as our chests heaved. I was still inside her, my arms wrapped around her prefect body. She was made for me, and I was made for her.
As our breathing returned to normal, I knew without a doubt I wanted Ren Miller any way I could have her. If she didn’t care that we weren’t hitched, then maybe I should give it up before it became a problem between us. Marriage was a stupid idea.
“Shit,” Ren sighed, her lips moving against my heated skin.
“Fuckin’ oath,” I replied, flexing underneath her as she squeezed.
She raised her head, her gaze meeting mine. “At least the couch is christened now.”
“I can’t wait until we christen the kitchen counter,” I replied. “And every other surface in this place.”
Ren’s eyes began to sparkle. “Where do I sign up?”
Moving my hips, I retorted, “You’re sitting on it.”
She sank against me, her arms tightening around my neck, and laughed.
Yeah, I was happy with whatever I could get.
Three
Ren
Walking in the front door of Beat, I breathed in the familiar scent of leather.
The boxing studio sat down a tiny lane that ran off Sydney Road, the main drag that ran through the inner city suburb of Brunswick. It was a vibrant area full of different cultures and a smattering of hipster overflow from the neighboring arty areas of Carlton and Fitzroy.
I’d lived out of the upstairs room for almost three years. It sounded totally weird, but I didn’t mind it in the slightest. I wasn’t the kind of girl who got attached to things or dreamed of a big house with all the trimmings. Money was nice and all, but it didn’t afford me the things I really wanted in life, which was love. Ash never had to build me a fancy apartment over his gym to give me what I needed. As long as I had him, then I had everything.
In a way, Beat was my home, and moving in with Ash was the end of a short-lived but packed full of milestones era.
Spotting my dad standing across the studio by the ring, I moved inside and closed the door behind me. He was with a younger man who was tall and lean with well-defined muscles on his arms and a head of choppy blond hair. It must be the guy who Dad had hired to take care of the place. Moving closer, I wondered if the guy was a fighter, but he sure didn’t look the part in a collared shirt and dress pants.