Loving Kinnick

Boston Marie Bennett! Did You Just Curse?

I tapped away at my phone. John wanted to know where we were. We still have half an hour until we have to go, so I don't know what crawled up his ass. He wanted to talk about the fight in Vegas, and I was interested, but with Bo's humming floating through the apartment, I couldn't focus.

The sound of dishes clinking told me the food was done. I've walked into my kitchen plenty of times to know she's swinging her hips back and forth to whatever song she has played through the speakers. Although she can't keep a tune to save her life, I would rather listen to her voice than anyone else's.

"Bo!" I hollered.

The running water turned off. "Yes?"

Butterflies erupted in my stomach when I heard her feet padding against the floor. I almost choked at the beauty in front of me once she came around the counter. Her creamy legs shined, and I know she's short, but right now they look infinite.

My eyes trailed up her skin to see the black t-shirt I wear to my fights, the one with my last name on the back. If I didn't know any better, I'd assume she wasn't wearing anything underneath. The black material is hanging dangerously low on her hips. A red tint was painted across her lips, and I wanted nothing more than to kiss it away.

Her curls were gathered on her right shoulder, cascading down to her side. She cocked her head to the side, looking at me with question, clearly wondering why I asked her to come in here, but haven't been able to say a thing since she's arrived.

"Kinnick?" She furrowed her eyebrows. "Is everything okay?"

"Come here," I lean back on the couch.

Her polished toenails sparkled under the light. She sat in my bathroom for hours trying to perfect them last night but kept smearing it across her skin. I loved the small things about her, like how much she loves painting her nails, and no matter how many years she's spent doing it, she still manages to get more of the nail polish on her skin than her actual nail.

She gripped my shoulders for stability when she climbed onto my lap. My head fell back onto the couch, trying to soak in - her. I gripped her hips, not wanting her to go anywhere, but hoping she stays here.

"Are you okay?" She runs her fingers over my chest. "Your heart is beating really fast."

She continues rubbing soothing circles into my skin. "Is your body hurting?"

"No," I suck in a deep breath. "You're just so fucking beautiful."

Her ears flush red. "Kinnick."

"I really like you in my shirt," I played with the hem.

"Well, I didn't want to wear my outfit while cooking," she looked down at my hands.

"Wear whatever you want," my eyes trail over her face. "What's mine is yours."

"I got it a little wet. I'm sorry."

I placed my fingers under her chin, lifting her face to look at me. "And what about you, are you?"

Her brows pinched together. "What do you mean?"

"Wet."

She attempted to drop her gaze, but my hand stayed underneath her chin to stop her from doing so. I wanted to see the effect I had on her. She told me my confidence turns her on. Not in those exact words. She was a little too shy to say that exactly.

Instead, she brought her hands to cover her face. I chuckled, licking my lips, bringing the bottom one in between my teeth as I tried concealing any other laughter. I circled my arms around her, letting her fall into my chest. She rested her head on my shoulder, and even though we are close I couldn't hear the small words she mumbled.