Fighter's Heart

Scene 17

Jase

The way Lena looks at me like she's seeing something beautiful is too damn much. I can't take it. I have to kiss her, and once I've stolen a taste, I want more. My tongue plunges deeper into her mouth and I haul her fully into my arms. She slings a leg over one of my hips, and I grab fistfuls of her butt as she wraps those legs around my waist, her skirt riding up to reveal thighs that are milky against the tan of my arms.

Fuck, she's sexy. My arms are full of warm, willing Lena. She's attacking my mouth with the same vigor I did hers a moment ago, and I can't think of anything better. I dig my fingers into the flesh of her ass and she moans, the vibrations tickling my lips.

Warning sirens are blaring in my head. I have a fight in less than two weeks, and my rule is never to fuck around at a time like this. The trouble is, whatever I'm doing with Lena—which feels damn good, by the way—isn't just fucking around. It's something real. Tonight she's made me feel good about myself in a way no other woman has, and it's got nothing to do with the number of belts I've won, or the size of my dick. She honest-to-God cares about Jase Rawlins—the man, rather than the champion.

Her tongue tangles with mine and she grips my shirt and jerks it, a growl of frustration coming from the back of her throat. Despite myself, I laugh. She sounds like a grumpy kitten, and it's the cutest thing I've ever heard.

She swats me. Her lips are pouty, her lipstick smeared, eyes slumberous. "Don't laugh at me, Rawlins."

Reluctantly, I ease back and lower her to the ground. She slides down my body, and the friction has me hard enough to hammer nails. When I gasp, her eyes light up. She rubs herself over me again, and I grit my teeth, breath hissing between them.

"Lena," I pant. "Slow down."

Her palms rest flat on my chest, over my heart, and hell if I don't love the sensation. "Don't wanna."

"Look." I step back, creating a few inches of space. "There's clearly something going on between us, but if we're going to do anything about it, our first time shouldn't be in a crappy office with people down the hall." Though if she keeps looking at me like that, it just might be.

Lena licks her lips. "Fair point," she says, and although she's agreeing with me, my dick droops in disappointment. "Why don't we take this to my place?"

And it perks right up again, the horny fucker. "You mean it?"

Those pouty lips fashion themselves into a smile. "Yeah, I do. I shouldn't, but I can't seem to help myself when it comes to you."

Hell, I'm not a saint, and I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Screw the rules. I drop my shoulder and toss her over it. "Where'd you park?"

Squealing, she thumps my back. "Put me down!"

"Not gonna happen."

I pick up her purse and carry her fireman-style through the center and out to the parking lot. I took an Uber earlier because I don't like to show up in my expensive ride and flaunt my wealth in everyone's faces. I spot her ridiculous car and head toward it. Gently, I lower her onto the hood and stand between her knees, cupping her face to kiss her. She nips my lip, and I laugh.

"Guess I deserved that."

"More than that, asshole." But there's no heat in her words.

"Give me your keys."

Her lips form a mutinous line. "It's my car, so I'll drive."

I'll admit, I'm not above slipping my hand up her skirt to cup her pussy, which has soaked her underwear and radiates heat. I touch her lightly. Teasingly. Her eyes darken.

"Are you prepared to break land speed records to get there?" I ask.

She digs into her purse and hands me her keys. I unlock the driver's door and she primly tugs her skirt down and stalks around to the passenger side, shooting me glares. If I hadn't had my hand on her just seconds ago, I'd think she wanted to do me damage, but her body doesn't lie. She craves me, just as I crave her.

True to my word, I follow her directions and arrive at her apartment building in record time. I park in the basement and she leads me to an elevator, then presses the button for the third floor. While the elevator travels upward, I wrap my arms around her from behind, drawing her into the shelter of my body. Her ass curves into my eager cock, and I pepper kisses along the length of her neck. She sighs, and relaxes into me, her eyes fluttering closed.

Fuck, she's beautiful. And so freaking trusting. From here, there are so many ways I could hurt her, but she's totally at ease in my arms, and something deep in my chest squeezes. I vow, from this minute on, that I won't let anyone do wrong to this woman. I may have only known her for a few days, but somehow she's wormed her way into my soul. She's mine to protect. Mine to possess. And, if I have my way, mine to fuck. Only mine.

Finally, the elevator doors open, and I release Lena for long enough to drape my arm around her shoulders while she takes me to her apartment. She stops outside number 311 and pauses, key in the lock, then turns to look up at me.

"It's nothing fancy," she says, her expression uncharacteristically shy.

"Don't care." Mostly, I'm just charmed she invited me back to her place rather than trying to wrangle an invitation to mine. Her fingers fumble with the key, then she pushes the door open and enters, waiting for me to follow.

The apartment is small and well-kept. The door opens onto a living area with a couch at one end, a small coffee table in front, and a two-person dining table to the side. Behind the table is a kitchenette, and near the couch is a closed door that I assume leads to either her bedroom or the bathroom. She doesn't own much—the place has a spartan feel about it—but there are potted plants on the table and kitchen counter. She catches me looking at them.

"They're succulents." Her lips twist wryly. "The only thing I can keep alive."

"Except yourself," I offer.

She laughs. "True. But like I said, nothing fancy."

She seems to need reassurance, so I pull heragainst my side, bury my face in her hair, and murmur, "It's cute, just likeyou."