She drops her cheek to my chest and resumes tracing swirling patterns on my skin.
“Guys I knew since military school were being shipped overseas. A lot of them never came back. I felt so damn helpless. One day I woke up and realized that I’d let my dad control my life. I was a grown man, and I’d given up so much of what I wanted. I decided that day I was getting out. No matter what it took.”
“How’d you do it?”
“I started an underground fighting circuit. After a few warnings, I finally got what I wanted.”
“What was that?”
“Discharged. Disorderly conduct.” The words taste bitter. I want her to see me as honorable, not as a fit-throwing kid with daddy issues. I wait for the information to sink in and hope it doesn’t change the way she feels about me.
She doesn’t say a word, or jump off the bed in revulsion. “I’m surprised your dad didn’t fight to keep you in.”
“He did for a while, until he realized that I’d eventually beat him at his own game. He’d rather let me go than have me spend the rest of my military career embarrassing him.” I run my hand through her hair, leaching comfort from the silky locks. “You know the most fucked-up part? I didn’t feel good when I’d finally won. I felt like a coward. It’s exactly what he wanted me to feel. So even though I got out, I still lost.” I rub my eyes with my free hand.
Reliving the day I was discharged, when I saw the disappointment in my father’s eyes and knew that nothing I could do would ever be good enough, still hurts. When will I finally stop caring?
She burrows into my side in silent thought. “You know, just because someone makes you feel like a loser, doesn’t mean you are. Look at your fighting career. From where I sit, I’d say you won. And in less than two weeks, when you go up against “The Fade”, you’ll prove it again.”
Her insightful words settle in the dark void behind my ribs, making me instantly feel better. I kiss her head, unable to vocalize how much I appreciate her understanding. More than ready for a subject change, I focus on the fight. “Two weeks. Can’t wait.” I’m so prepared, not even a flutter of nervous energy stirs at the thought. Or maybe it’s the thickness that hangs in my blood from the weight of our conversation. “Which reminds me, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” My stomach rolls with anxiety.
What does it say about a man who can walk into the ring to face a trained fighter and not even flinch, but the thought of asking his woman out makes him twitchy?
She nuzzles in closer. “What is it?”
I’m grateful she doesn’t tip her face to look at me. I don’t need the extra pressure. Pulling in a deep breath, I charge forward. “In five days, I’d like to take you out.”
Her neck stiffens a second before she lifts her head and props her chin on my chest. “On a date?”
“Not just a date.”
Her eyebrows pinch together and her gaze slides to the side then back to mine. “I don’t get it.”
“Pretty simple, Mouse. I’m asking if you’ll be my Valentine.”
A lazy smile curls her lips, seductive and sexy as hell. “Yeah?”
“That a question or an answer, sweetheart?”
“Both.” She dips her chin, a faint blush visible even in the dawn-hued light. “I’ve never had a Valentine.”
A woman married for sixteen years has never had a Valentine? Every time I learn of a new way her ex failed her, the burning in my chest that’s becoming as familiar as my own heartbeat flares up. I count to ten, take deep breaths, and force a steady voice. “That’s all right, Mouse. I’m a virgin Valentiner, too.”
She giggles and drops her cheek back to my chest. As soon as her eyes are off me, I scrape off my bogus smile. My pulse races. She has to be able to hear it from her position.
“What are we going to do?”
I’m still counting to calm myself down and release the lock my jaw has on my mouth. “Just be ready by seven. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“I’m excited.” She squeezes me tighter. “Thank you.”
“I wouldn’t go thanking me yet. My creativity is pretty pathetic. Although, I’m sure I could get us a private table at Zeus’s Playground. Maybe even free lap dances for the night.” I brace myself, expecting a slap on the chest at my teasing.
“I’ve never been to a strip club before.” Her hand moves from my waist to her mouth, and she chews her fingernail. “That’d be interesting.”
Well, fuck me silly.
“Mouse. No way I’d take you to a strip club on Valentine’s Day. I’m a dick, not an asshole.”
She relaxes back into my side. “Not sure there’s a difference.”
“You want to go to a strip club, I’ll take you another time.” That’ll be good. I’ll give her a stack of dollar bills to play with. I picture her sliding cash into a stripper’s G-string. My stomach pitches with jealousy at just the thought. No fucking way do I want her hands on anyone’s underwear. Guy or girl. And the men in the club would be lusting their asses off. No. Fuck no. “Or not.”
It wasn’t too long ago that the thought of two women together would have me straining in my shorts. Right before I met Layla, I had a hard time getting off with only one girl. And now, I’m happily shackled to one.
One.
It’s amazing how the right woman can change a man. I’ve seen it happen to others, but thought it’d never happen to me. And yet, here I am. Valentine dates, no one in bed with us except us, and all the baggage two people can carry.
Fuck, I’ve never been happier.
The light outside gets brighter, and I know I’ve delayed my escape as long as I can. “I better go. Axelle’ll be up soon.” I kiss her head and start to roll from her hold.
Her legs tighten around me. “Don’t go.”
I turn back to see her grinning. Her hair is scattered across the pillow, framing her face and neck. So damn gorgeous, my breath catches in my throat.
She shrugs one shoulder. “We can tell her you came over early for coffee and to take me to work. She’ll be excited to have the Bronco. She won’t know you spent the night.”
That would work. I have clothes in my workout bag, and I could shower at the training center. I lean in and kiss her soft lips. “Sounds good to me. I’ll get coffee and breakfast going. You shower.”
Her arms slide up her naked body and over her head. Even under the thin sheet, I can see that her nipples are hard from the chill in the room. She moans with an unhurried stretch that arches her back and pushes her breasts out from beneath the sheet. Fuck me.
While her eyes are closed, I take advantage and make my move. My mouth covers one pink tip, sucking deep. She jumps with surprise then groans and wraps her hands around my head, holding me to her. Her body writhes beneath me. I’d do anything to bury myself inside her until tomorrow.
I pull back with a nip to her tender flesh. “Time’s up, sweetheart. It’ll have to wait.”
Her protesting whimper makes me grin against her heated skin. I run my nose between her breasts, dragging her sweet vanilla scent into my lungs. My hand finds her sheet-covered ass. I smack it hard enough to get her attention. “Shower.”
Her eyes narrow. “That sounded like an order.”
My teeth sink into my lip to hide my smile. I shake my head and move from her warm body to the chair across the room where I tossed my clothes last night. Throwing my boxers and jeans on, I think about my training schedule for this week, hoping it’ll kill my raging hard-on.
The sheets shift behind me, and I force my eyes to my button fly to keep from looking. If I see her strolling across the dim room naked, I won’t be able to control myself. The sound of her sock-clad feet against the carpet move behind me. She smacks my ass as she passes with a feminine giggle. Fuck, but my dick roars back to life.