icy and ruthless, but I couldn’t deny it was also crazy hot.
So long as it wasn’t aimed at me.
The emcee climbed the steps and swung under the ropes. “You know what time it is, folks. I hope you’ve put your money down because you could be leaving with stacks on stacks.”
The frenzy grew, everyone’s amped-up energy feeding off one another. It was always like that on fight nights, especially before the main event. With the addition of the other vices, it was magnified tenfold.
Music started—loud and pounding. The first boxer climbed into the ring and circled the mat, hitting his glove to his chest a few times. The waistband of his red and orange shorts touted sponsor logos, but I couldn’t see what they were.
The song faded, a new one starting slow and low before growing louder as the bass and tempo increased. The other boxer entered with his crew around him. I didn’t have to strain to see if he had sponsors because he stopped right next to us, giving me a clear view of the single logo on his black shorts.
Black Resorts.
He held out his glove, and Maximo tapped his fist to it. When the boxer lowered it toward my hand, I did the same.
Returning his focus to the ring in front of him, he stretched his neck. And then he grinned.
It wasn’t cocky.
It wasn’t aggressive.
It was the kind of grin that said he was damn excited to throw fists.
As he climbed in, the emcee finished intros and sponsor rundowns.
Orange was Alek ‘The Finisher’ Findlay.
Black was Mateo ‘Kid Wonder’ Torres.
Oh, both good nicknames.
Kid Wonder is better by a hair, though.
I shifted on Maximo’s lap and waited for him to give me his ear. When he didn’t, I cupped his cheek and tilted his head. “I guess I don’t have to ask who we’re cheering for. He’d have been my pick anyway.”
“Yeah?”
I let go of his cheek and nodded. “He doesn’t just want the victory, he likes the fight. That makes a difference.”
I had no clue why, but at my words, Maximo cupped the sides of my head and kissed me. His fingertips dug in as he tilted my face to deepen the kiss.
He speared his tongue in to taste and take and devour.
And, like there was no one else in the whole world but the two of us, I let him.
I hadn’t noticed the bell ringing, but he must’ve because he tore his mouth away just as the fight began.
Taking a shuddering breath, I focused on the match and not Maximo, his kiss, and the way my body reacted to him.
Okay, I split my focus between Maximo and the match because they were both engrossing.
Some people thought boxing was barbaric. A fake sport for muscle heads and steroid dummies whose only talent was taking a punch.
But they were wrong. Maybe not about it being barbaric, but about no skill being involved.
Each fight was like a dance. A boxer had to know when to lead and when to follow. They had to be light, agile, aggressive, passive, strong, quick, and in tuned with themselves and their opponent.
It was a sport.
And, when done right, it was an art.
The way Finisher and Kid Wonder fought?
It was a masterpiece.
Evenly matched, neither let the other run the show for long. They may have bided their time, but then they took any opening to go on the offense.
Each time I thought one of them had it, the other fought for the upper hand.
I missed this thrill.
Turning, I grinned at Maximo. “This is such a good fight.”
Before I could turn back, he palmed the back of my head and tugged me closer so his lips were at my ear. “Glad you think so.”
At the graze of his lips, goosebumps spread across my skin. Before I could do something stupid—like beg him to trail his lips across other areas of my body—I twisted to face forward, but my ass slid from his thigh to his lap.
Oh God.
Maximo was hard.
Not kinda.
Or slightly.
Or semi.
Long and thick, it stretched down his other thigh.
It may not have been the first time I’d felt it pressed against my ass, but it was the first time in public. I tried to shift back to his thigh, but his hands gripped my hips, keeping me in place.
Sitting on his thigh had been intimate enough, but with my ass firmly on his hard-on, I was keenly aware of how few layers separated us.
We wouldn’t even have to take them off. Just tug down his