Obsessed - Jenika Snow Page 0,4

and excitement in her eyes as she stared at the ring. She wasn’t looking at Oli but at the other fighter.

Well. Seemed like Bernadette liked coming to these more than I thought.

4

Bryn

I focused on Oli again. His back was to me now, his shoulders so broad, his back so wide and muscular that I felt my entire core tighten painfully. I couldn’t see his face, but I could practically feel how calm and ready he was for this, to win this fight.

My attention was rapt. I was in awe. I always felt like this watching him, holding my breath until it was over, my heart in my throat, my nerves tight. I knew he’d win—he always did—but that didn’t stop the worry from clawing at me from deep in my core.

Oli rolled his head on his neck, cracked his knuckles, and bounced on his feet to loosen himself up. He was poised to strike, like a cobra. Ready. Waiting. About to attack.

“And here we motherfucking go, ladies and gents!” the announcer practically roared through the speakers, and that was it.

The room was pandemonium as people shouted, pushed, shoved, screaming for more violence. I felt how wide my eyes were, felt Bernadette’s hand tighten in mine. But the wave of people moving back and forth was pushing us apart, had my arm stretched out, our fingers starting to disconnect.

She snapped her head in my direction and mouthed something, but I couldn't hear from the crush of noise surrounding us. We’d already talked about where to meet if we got separated, which wasn’t uncalled for at these things. There were just so many people it was better to be safe than sorry and not know where to go or what to do if we got split up.

I focused only on the ring, on the two fighters… on my fighter.

Yeah, I deemed Oli as mine. He didn't know yet, but he would. God, he would tonight.

Watching them move around each other was like watching two lions about to attack, to fight to the death. But Oli was the bigger lion, the stronger one with the sharpest teeth and longest claws. There was no match. None at all.

The fighter started throwing punches, but Oli evaded them easily. He slammed his own fist into the other fighter’s face, his side, the kidneys, anywhere and everywhere. The moves were precise, full of perfection.

They were brutal and beautiful.

Back and forth, they danced, long moments of this almost intimate act, but there was violence, aggression, testosterone right at the surface. Punch. Hit. Kick. There were no rules here. Just fighting. Anything goes. I held my breath more than I breathed, my focus trained on the man I loved, the man I wanted to give myself to tonight.

The other fighter looked tired as hell, but he stayed on his feet and kept blocking Oli’s punches—or trying to, at least.

The flights Oli participated in were so raw, so unhinged, it was like he was another person, his sole focus and intent that of taking down the other guy. And he did it every single time with accuracy and precision.

The other fighter swung out, but his fist connected with the air. I actually gasped, for a moment thinking it would come in contact with Oli. I should have known better.

Oli swung out and hit the other man in the jaw. Blood erupted from the fighter’s mouth, spraying along the mat. Sweat covered Oli’s chest, and his skin was a little redder from the increased blood flow right beneath the surface.

A part of me felt bad for the other fighter. He didn’t stand a chance against Oli, and already he looked like he had his ass handed to him five times over.

Time felt like it slowed as I watched in awe at what was going on right in front of me. Oli was an animal, his movements coordinated, stealthy. Precise. I was wet, ready, needing him so badly I felt crazed from it.

And then Oli went for the final blow. He reared back his heavily muscled arm and brought his fist to the side of the fighter’s face. The other man’s head cocked to the side, his eyes rolled back, and he was down. He was out.

“And he’s fucking out, everyone!” The announcer roared it through the speakers, and I would have covered my ears for how loud it was, but I was too transfixed by the sight of Oli.

Heat flooded me. Wetness continued to soak my panties.

I want him. I need