chin held high, I make my way inside the ring.
Of all men to fight . . .
Jaxson saunters into the ring like some hot-as-hell runway model. Bare chest on full display. Shorts dangling precariously off of his hip bone. Cocky-ass attitude filling the space between us. But the corded rope wrapped around his arm like a fire hose ruins the perfect picture.
I hold my ground and my breath as he stalks toward me. Jesus, he’s even more beautiful close up, with eyes a pale blue color, reminding me of a cloudless sky after a long, hard rain. He unsettles me like no one I’ve ever met. Frozen, I stare at him, unflinching as he leans toward me. “No weapon?” he whispers, his breath warm on my ear.
I shrug my shoulders.
He steps back and tosses the rope aside. He drags his gaze over me, from my worn sneakers and neat white socks, up my long legs, to my small pink shorts, over my Deep Purple T-shirt with the bad attitude decal pulled tight across my chest, where he hesitates briefly before racking his eyes up to meet mine. Caressing me without touching me. Causing my throat to tighten and my internal thermometer to spike.
The last thing I’m thinking about is fighting him. Unless that consists of throwing myself at him, taking him down to the mat and taking his eye-fuck of a caress a few steps further.
Or am I misinterpreting his actions? Is he simply searching for my weapon?
I narrow my eyes at him.
He runs his tongue across his bottom lip.
Oh yeah? Two can play this hand. Without batting an eyelash, I sweep my leg across the mat, behind his heel and knock him off balance. He lands on his ass on the mat, just like the many men that have underestimated me before.
Yet his lips lift into a naughty curve, throwing me off-balance.
Wrong move. Wrong reaction. I want him slack-jawed and weak-kneed. Instead, it’s the other way around. Damn it. I better be careful or I’ll lose this battle.
There’s a time to attack and a time to retreat. I do the latter, shifting a few steps back. Feeling my T-shirt’s a bit too loose and can easily be grabbed, I bring it up and over my head, tossing it off to the side. My sports bra is worn, pink, and one size too small for my girls. Tight, just like the money I didn’t have to invest in better bras.
I sigh. It is what it is.
The cavemen react predictably: catcalls, shouts about tits and ass, what he’d do to me if he were the lucky sucker to be inside the ring. Yeah, let’s see who’ll be getting the last laugh, fellas.
Jaxson springs to his feet, stepping forward and invading my space. “Can’t say I’m going to miss the Bad Attitude.” Blocking my body from the crowd and faster than a blink, he touches me, then just as fast, steps back and away.
Holy hell. He just flicked a nipple. It warms like a pinprick and instantly pebbles up. My body is on fire. And my shorts’ built-in panty is suddenly wet. Jesus, it’s going to be uncomfortable fighting him with one perky nipple and a wet crotch.
“Choke her with the rope already,” someone shouts, clearly not a huge fan of mine.
His baby-blue eyes shimmer brightly, sending my pulse pounding. I try to calm down but he smoothly swoops back. I punch him in the side of his head but it’s not enough to stop him from planting a kiss on my lips. “Nice rack. Shame you had to go for the obvious choice,” he informs me, his lips move against mine in a whisper. “You shouldn’t have come back here.”
I’m tempted. To plant my own kiss on his luscious lips accompanied by kicking the presumptuous ass in the balls.
But before I can lift a leg, I’m falling, knocked off balance mentally and physically by his slick, unexpected moves. Lightening quick—I’ll have to remember that. I hit the mat and he falls on top of me, flipping me onto my back before pinning me in place with his big broad chest.
Cavemen shout out advice on what to do next. None of it has to do with kicking my ass.
It’s hard to move, breathe, think with his weight on top of me, his chest pushing against mine, his crotch pressed up against my right thigh. He’s stilled and I swear I can feel his heart beating in unison with mine.
But my right hand