She groaned, turning her head to the side of the pillow. Glossy brown strands of damp hair clung to her flushed cheeks. Her lips parted as she panted. Beautiful. I ducked my head and captured that sweet mouth, felt her heat, tasted her need.
Pleasure licked over my skin, and I shivered. God, I wasn’t going to last. We’d been at this for hours, fucking and kissing and drinking each other in under the hazy heat of the afternoon sun. But boxers were supposed to have stamina.
Parker moaned into my mouth, craning her head to prolong the kiss with a greediness that had my breath catching. With another moan, she came around my cock, her inner muscles squeezing me so hard, my mind blanked.
“Shit,” I rasped. My careful control broke with a thrust, and another. I couldn’t get close enough. I needed in, and in, and in. Parker wrapped her strong legs around my waist and pulled me closer.
“Parker.”
Her fingers slid through my hair. “Give it to me.”
Let go.
I didn’t know how. Not in life. I never knew how. But here, with her, I could.
She held me, cradled in her arms, as I poured myself into her with a helpless shout. Weak and panting, I laid wrapped up in her, our sweaty skin sticking. Then I groaned and rolled to my side, pulling her with me.
Parker rested her head on my chest with a sigh. I hauled her closer, holding on, unable to release her. My body hadn’t stopped shivering. I was supposed to be blowing her mind, rocking her damn world, but she’d flipped the script.
“You okay there, big guy?” she asked softly.
No. Yes.
“Give me a minute.”
She simply petted me, taking it in stride that I was wrecked. I leaned into her soothing touch. After all, she was the one who’d wrecked me. Our breaths evened out, and the sunlight slanting through the loft windows warmed our skin.
Pressing my lips to the crown of Parker’s head, I closed my eyes and started to doze. Then my phone rang. Grunting, I grabbed it, intent on turning the damn thing off but then saw it was Dean. He’d texted too: Answer me, asshole.
Since I knew his next step would be coming up to the loft, I caved.
“What’s the problem?” My voice was shredded.
“That Garret guy is here.”
“So tell him to piss off.”
He huffed out a laugh. “He isn’t in the gym. He’s walking around outside with some guy.”
I rubbed a hand over my face and tried to focus. “We don’t own the sidewalk, Dean.” Unfortunately.
“I don’t know why I bother…” A long-suffering sigh gusted. “They appear to be surveying the building.”
The fuck?
“I thought you might want to know,” Dean said. “But, by all means, go back to doing whatever it is your doing.”
His tone made it clear he knew exactly what I’d been doing.
With a grunt, I eased away from Parker and sat up. “I’m coming down.”
Dean grumbled something unintelligible under his breath and hung up.
Tossing the phone on the bed, I explained the situation to Parker. “I’m going to see what the hell is going on,” I said.
She sat up as well, pulling her knees to her chest. “The gym is safe now. You have the sponsors. Why would he keep at this?”
“Some people don’t like the word no.” I reached for my sweats and stopped. “Shit, I have to shower.”
Her smile was sly. “That probably would be a good idea. Not that I mind you smelling like me.”
My heart gave a funny little squeeze, and I leaned over to kiss her. “Territorial. I like it.” Then I backed away from the temptation that was Parker Brown and took the quickest shower in history.
Garret was still there by the time I got downstairs. He smiled wide and easy as though he wasn’t scoping out my property.
“Mr. Morgan. Nice to see you again.”
“Wish I could say the same, Garret.” I eyed the guy next to him who had a big iPad in hand and appeared to be consulting blueprints. “Doesn’t look like you’re here to see me, though, does it?”
Garret shrugged. “Just doing a little research.”
Research my ass. This was a reminder that the second I fell, he’d be there to profit off my failure.
Before I’d ever thrown I punch, I’d been a fighter. My natural inclination in any situation was to act first, think later. Most people assumed that’s what boxing was all about as well—rabid aggression and hard strikes.