Fighter's Secret Read online

  “And?”

  “While I want to be with you, and I know this is a crappy thing to ask, could we keep it quiet, at least for a little while?”

  My heart sinks. She wants me to be her secret? Honestly, that hurts. I’d happily march back in there and announce to the entire bar that I just kissed her in the alley, and then I’d get on my phone and tell Seth I want to date his little sister. But the look she’s giving me makes me think that would be a very bad idea.

  “Are you ashamed of me?” I demand. My fingers are growing cold and I curl them into my palms to warm them. “Is this because I’m black?”

  “No!” She looks stricken, and places her hands on my chest, directly over my beating heart. “Not at all. I promise, that’s not it, and I’m so sorry for even prompting you to question that. The color of your skin has zero impact on how I feel about you, just as I hope mine doesn’t affect the way you feel about me.”

  “What is it then?” I implore, because I’m starting to get a prickle at the back of my neck that warns me bad things are coming.

  “I just…” She sighs, then buries her face in her hands and growls. When she looks back up, that vulnerability has returned to her expression. “There are two reasons, but I need to explain something to you, so you’ll understand. Something no one else knows.”

  “I won’t tell anyone.” My voice is soft. “I promise.” Whatever she’s about to say, it’s serious enough to get in the way of our budding relationship, and I won’t betray her trust by revealing it to another person.

  “I’ve had a lot of upheaval lately.” She steps back and visibly steels herself. “My last coach, Thaklaew, asked me to throw a fight. I didn’t, and he kicked me out of his gym. That’s why I came here.”

  My intake of breath seems to echo around the alley. I’ve heard of people fixing fights. It’s something we all know goes on from time to time, but it’s never happened to any of my friends and the idea of her being kicked out of a gym she’d lived at for years because she wouldn’t go along with it is awful. Those places become your home. Your family. I can’t even fathom the idea of being barred from Crown MMA Gym. My training buddies—and even grumpy Seth—are my brothers. It’s the first place I’ve ever truly fit in. The only place I belong.

  “I’m so sorry.” I wish I could take her in my arms to comfort her, but she doesn’t look like she’d welcome it. “I’m not sure what that has to do with us, though.”

  I wait while emotions play across her face. I get the feeling she’s struggling internally.

  “The thing is,” she says eventually, “Thaklaew wasn’t only my coach.”

  “Oh?” My grip tightens on hers. I hadn’t been expecting that.

  “He and I were…together. Had been for a couple of years.”

  “Wait. Hold on. Let me get this straight. Your coach, who was also your boyfriend, asked you to throw a fight, and when you didn’t, he kicked you out?”

  “But wait,” she says dryly. “There’s more.”

  My stomach bottoms out. Whatever is coming, it can’t be good.

  “He was mad as hell when I refused to go along with his plan and admitted that he’d been cheating on me for most of our relationship.”

  Oh, fuck. Poor Harley. That guy is a monumental idiot. What kind of man wouldn’t treasure a woman like her?

  “With who?” I ask.

  “Lots of different girls.” She holds my gaze but it seems difficult for her. “Apparently, he liked the idea of spending his life with me because of our shared interests, but what we didn’t share was his desire to get some action on the side. I had no clue. When he ended things, he made sure to tell me all of the reasons I hadn’t been enough to keep him from sticking his dick in someone else.”

  My jaw tightens. “What an ass. Blaming you for his shitty behavior.”

  “Yeah. Gaslighting at its finest.”

  I can tell she doesn’t completely believe it. I take her hand and squeeze it. “I’m sorry you went through that. It’s a crappy thing to have happen. But trust me, his actions say more about him than they do about you.”

  She extricates her hand, exhales long and slow, then drags both palms down her face. “I know that,” she says, her voice small. “Logically, I do, but try telling it to my subconscious. I mean, we’d never talked about marrying or anything because I tend not to look too far into the future, but he was a constant in my world for years and then all of a sudden he dropped me like a bad habit and told me everything I’d believed was a lie.”

  Her lips pinch together, then she forces them to relax before she continues. “So, I guess what I’m saying is that my heart is bruised, and I’m having a hard time trusting this attraction between us. Add that to the fact I’ve moved halfway across the world and started at a new gym… it just feels like everything is up in the air. Seth is my constant. My familiar person amid all the changes. The only thing he asked of me was not to hook up with anyone from the gym. He doesn’t want drama. And I don’t want to piss him off if nothing is going to come of this.” She gestures between us. “I need a little time to trust in our connection before we tell everyone.”

  Seth isn’t the only person she has. I’m here for her too, and I won’t let her down. But I can see where she’s coming from, and if a little time is all she needs to let the ground firm beneath her feet, I can give her that. Just not indefinitely.

  “You wouldn’t lose him, Harls. He loves you. But okay, we don’t have to say anything—yet. But as soon as you feel comfortable with us, we come clean. No more secrets.”

  Her eyes shine with relief as she nods. “Thanks, Dev.” She drops a single kiss on my lips. “I appreciate you being so understanding. I know I can be hard to deal with.”

  I smile. “You’re worth it.” And it’s my job to show her that, so she’ll be happy to open up and believe in what we have. I nod toward the bar. “Let’s head back inside.” I reach for her hand, then stop short, reminding myself it’s not something I’m allowed to do. Gritting my teeth, I acknowledge that keeping my feelings on the down low is going to be a challenge. I’m not a secretive guy. I wear my emotions on my sleeve, and that’s how I like it. But for the sake of her bruised heart, I can rein it in for a while.

  The rest of the night is torture. I deserve a gold medal for not having my hands all over her. I even keep my distance as we say goodbye at the end of the night. Now that I know she wants me, I can be patient. I don’t need to tempt her the way I did previously. If I were to travel that route, I might scare her off. Make her feel pressured. Instead, I just wish for her to change her mind, say ‘to hell with it’, and come home with me. But she doesn’t. The others are still around when we part ways, so I don’t say anything, just hold her gaze and will her to understand what I’ve already come to terms with.

  We’re meant for each other.

  Touching her feels like coming home. And yeah, maybe relationships are a new concept for me, but my heart knows what it wants, and it hasn’t steered me wrong yet.

  In my apartment, I strip off my clothes, brush my teeth, and flop onto the bed. I close my eyes, but I’m too wired to sleep. I need to let off some steam. My hand trails over my abs and down to my dick. All it takes is the memory of Harley’s skin, smooth and silky, and I’m hard. I stroke myself once, then twice, wondering if beating off is going to be a common occurrence with her in my life. If it is, I can live with that. Rubbing myself raw is better than rushing her into something she’s not ready for. Closing my eyes, I picture her delicate pink lips.

  Oh, yeah. They’d feel really good around me.

  In my fantasy, she takes me into her mouth. I thrust into my hand, and my thoughts are so foggy, it’s amazing I hear it.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  My heart leaps to my throat and I drop my cock like it’s burned me. Someone is at my door.

  Chapter Ten

  Harley

  I’m not an impulsive person. Let’s just put that out there. But when I’m finally alone, and I’m left facing a long night with no physical outlet, I can’t handle it. I message Sydney to ask for an address—because I trust her to stay quiet—then I get an Uber to Devon’s apartment. Now, standing outside, I hope I haven’t made a mistake. But the way he responded to me earlier has turned everything on its head. He was so sweet. So real. Maybe Devon isn’t the guy I thought he was, and maybe I’m not the woman I believed myself to be because I sure as fuck don’t want to wake up in twenty years, bitter and alone. I’m not stupid; I know the attraction between us isn’t likely to lead to anything permanent, but if I don’t explore it, then that’s a certainty. If I give it a chance… well, who knows where it might go?

  The door swings open to reveal the most gorgeous half-naked male I’ve ever had the fortune to set eyes on. My gaze slides over his bulging upper arms and follows deep brown ripples of muscle from his ribs to the waistband of his gray sweatpants. I’m about to shift my attention to his face when it catches on the prominent tent being pitched in the front of his pants. Holy shit. Is that what I think it is?

  I mean, duh. How could it possibly be anything else? But my brain is struggling to work, too distracted by his very sizable bulge.

  I bet he’s going commando under there.

  The errant thought pops into my head and I try to dismiss it. A masculine chuckle breaks my appreciation of his barely concealed package.

  “Much as I love the way you’re looking at me, do you think you could make eye contact? Might make me feel less like a piece of meat.”

  “Oh,” I breathe, snapping my eyes to meet his, a guilty flush working its way down my neck. Unfortunately, with my coloring, I blush easily. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Uh-huh.” He gives me a cocky smirk that I can’t even feel annoyed about because I was checking him out, and he knows it. “I can put on a shirt if it helps.”

  “No!” A burst of panic jolts me into motion and I take a step forward. “Keep it off.” He grins, and I bury my face in my hands. “Oh my God, this is not going the way I planned.” I’d hoped to be smoother and more seductive, but instead my typical awkwardness in intimate situations is leaping to the fore. I’m great with guys, as long as I’m not interested in them or have no intention of acting on interest if it exists. As soon as I open myself to possibilities, hello foot in mouth. That’s why I kissed him earlier with no prequel. Much easier than slowing down to talk.

  “What I meant to say,” I continue, desperate to save myself from ridicule, “is that I’d rather you take off more clothes than add them back on.”

  His lips twitch and his eyes sparkle. Did I make it better, or worse? I can’t tell. Moving aside, he gestures me in. Out of habit, I remove my shoes before entering.

  “Can I get you a drink?” he asks.

  “Only if the drink is out of your navel.” Dear God, I officially made it worse.

  A full-blown laugh gusts from him and I could swear it echoes in the space around us. Despite my growing humiliation, I laugh too because the sound of his is infectious. He’s one of those people who sets the vibe for the room, and with just the two of us here, it’s easy to be carried away by the rich melody of his amusement.

  “I get it, I get it,” he says, backing away from me in the direction of his kitchen, which is open concept and attached to the living area. “You want to bone me.” Going to the cupboard, he grabs a bottle of whiskey. “Want one?”

  “No thanks,” I say automatically, even though it would probably calm my nerves. “I don’t drink during fight camp.” Although I’m not surprised he does.

  As if reading my mind, he tilts his head, his smile turning wry. “I can see the cogs turning in that brain of yours. You disapprove of alcohol.”

  “Only at certain times.” I don’t want him getting the impression I’m a judgmental stick in the mud. “It just seems unimportant compared to other things. Is it really worth the risk?”

  He shrugs. “That’s for each person to decide for themselves. If you’re asking me, I think life is meant to be enjoyed, and I like a nightcap every now and then. Does that mean I’m out partying and getting wasted every night? Hell, no. Otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten as far as I have.”

  Nodding, I concede the point. “I grew up in a town that wasn’t always kind to my family. A single mom who had two kids more than a decade apart is like crack to the local gossips. I always knew that people would pay close attention if I ever took a step out of line, so I found it easier not to give them ammunition.”

  He retrieves a single shot glass from a drawer and pours a small portion of whiskey into it. “Surely, training in the martial arts added fuel to the fire.”

  Now it’s my turn to shrug. “Yeah, but it was safer than the alternative.”

  “Which was?”

  I watch as he sips the amber liquid, the cords of his throat moving. The edge of the glass rests gently on his plump lower lip and for a moment, I envy it. I remember how those lips felt and I want them on mine again.

  “Harley?” he prompts.

  “Oh, yeah.” I swipe a strand of hair off my face with more vigor than necessary. “Getting beaten up. I was an easy target, but once I fought back a couple of times, the bullies left me alone.” I can’t believe we’re standing in his kitchen having this conversation. “This isn’t what I came here for.”

  “I know.” He sets the whiskey down and approaches me. I stand my ground as he places his hands on the counter behind me and brackets me between his arms. His eyes search mine. “But I’m still not clear on exactly why you are here and what you want from me when you said you’re having trouble trusting in our attraction. How about you break it down and make it really simple?”

  Tipping my chin back, I refuse to be intimidated by his size and appeal. I take a breath and slowly release it. “I want you to fuck me.”

  “Okay.” He nods, as though his lips aren’t mere inches from mine, his body so close I can smell a hint of aftershave. “But would this be a one-off fucking or is it the start of a pattern of fucking?”

  “Well, that really depends on how good it is, doesn’t it?” I say tartly, and the cheeky grin vanishes from his face.

  His eyes smolder like dark embers. “Trust me, you’ll want more. The question is, are you going to let yourself have it?”

  Groaning, I glance off to the side. Why is he forcing us to have this conversation? Aren’t guys usually just eager to get whatever they can and figure it out later?

  “Harley.” His fingers land on my chin and he steers my face back to his. “I’m not doing this with you if I’m interchangeable with any other man out there. Either you want me, and you agree to give me a real chance, or you’ll have to go scratch your itch elsewhere.” His lips pinch together. “Although I must say, I don’t love that option.”

  “Oh, my God. You’re actually doing this.” He’s holding out for more. While it frustrates me because I’m afraid to open up to him more than I already have, I respect his position. Closing my eyes, because it’s difficult to think with his gorgeous self all up in my grill, I think it over. I like Devon. He’s fun to be around, but we’re opposites in a lot of ways. I don’t know him well enough to be willing to risk my relationship with Seth. That said, after tonight, I can’t help thinking I’ve misjudged him, and not taking a chance feels just as risky as putting it all on the line. I don’t want to live safely and end up sad and alone.

  “Okay.” It’s hard to say the word around my clenched jaw, but even though my eyes are shut, I can sense the change in him. His body relaxes and sways closer to mine, brushing against me in a few key locations that send sparks crackling over my skin. Blinking, I refocus, and the joy that seems to radiate from his every pore attracts me to him like the opposing end of a magnet. “Let’s give this a chance. But,” I add as he starts to dip his head, “it’s just between you and me for now.”

  “Until you feel secure in our relationship.”

  The air above my mouth stirs as his lips move. Heat rushes to my center. How is it so erotic when he hasn’t even touched me yet? His lips brush mine. Once, twice. Soft as a butterfly’s wing. Something flutters in the vicinity of my heart, and I ignore it. My heart shouldn’t be involved. Not yet. No matter how sweet his kisses are.

  He pulls back, and our gazes lock. “I’m not going to fuck you.”

  Disappointment sours my stomach. Why would he put me through everything he just did if he doesn’t want me? I try to shove him away.

  “Easy, sparky.” He lowers his voice. “I’m going to make love to you. That’s what it will be between us.”

  My insides tie themselves in knots. “You can’t just say that.”

  He cocks a brow. “But I did, and if that’s not okay with you, you’re welcome to leave.”

  Damn him. I squeeze my fists at my sides. Damn. Him. Why does he have to play with my emotions like this? Why can’t he just let sex be sex?

  Because he knows what you could have together.

  “Shut up,” I mutter to the voice in my head.

  His face falls and he lifts his hands off me and backs away.

  “Not you,” I add quickly.

  Be brave, Harley. You’re willing to get in the ring with three women on one night. You can survive anything. Don’t be such a wimp.

  Before my bravado can waver, I grip his shoulders and haul him back to me. His lips slant over mine, and I attack his mouth with none of the gentleness he showed me, both angry and desperate at the same time. He meets my aggression with a tenderness that slows me down. His tongue strokes mine, stoking the fire within me hotter. His hands mold to my shape, melting me like butter. Then he pulls back and presses kisses to my temple, my cheeks, and my nose, before burying his face in the crook of my neck.

  “So, that’s a yes to the making love?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank fuck.”

  Impressively fast, he moves to toss me over his shoulder. Automatically, I evade and counter, stopping just short of sweeping his legs out from under him.

  He shakes his head in wonder. “Fuck, that’s hot.” He offers me a hand, and I thread my fingers through it. “Come on, you sexy ninja. Let’s go to bed.”