Chapter 52

When I returnfrom shopping with Shelby and Ella, Griff’s trying to conquer an ice bath Underhill wanted him to sit in for a few minutes tonight.

That didn’t sound like anything I wanted a part of, so I stay in the bedroom and try on the dress I bought for Saturday night.

When Griff finally emerges from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips, I turn away from the mirrored closet doors I’d been staring into, trying to decide how I feel about the dress.

“Does this make me look like a fighter’s girlfriend?” I slide my hands over the smooth little pieces of silver sequins covering the dress. “Or a mob wife?”

Griff runs his heated gaze from my toes peeking out of my high silver sandals, to the short hem hugging my mid-thighs, to my hips, over my chest and finally to my face. “You look gorgeous.” His gaze drops to my legs again. “So good, I’m not sure I want you going out in public like that.”

I narrow my eyes. “You don’t get to veto my outfits if they look good.”

“I dunno. Gonna be a lot of horny fight fans in the crowd. Not to mention fighters from the earlier matches. One of them touches you, I’m gonna jump that cage and kill ’em.”

“Aren’t we sitting in the front row?” I tilt my head, trying to convey how silly he’s being. “With our entourage in attendance, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

His lips tilt to the side. “Will you be comfortable?”

“No. But focusing on breathing in this dress will help me keep my mind off of worrying about you.”

“You don’t have to worry about me. I know what I’m doing. I’ve trained hard. Feeling the best I’ve ever felt before a fight.”

“Good, because I’m a wreck,” I finally admit, tired of holding that in.

A furrow forms between his brows. “You don’t have faith in me?”

“I have all the faith in the world in you. I still don’t like you getting hurt. Even a little.”

“I’ll do my best not to,” he promises. He runs his gaze over my dress again. “God damn, you look hot. Are you wearing the dress tonight?”

“No, it’s for fight night.” I bite my lip. “Although I bought a different dress. It’s purple. Maybe I should wear that instead?”

“Show it to me later.” He takes a step closer. “How easy is this to get off?”

“What?” I tiptoe backward, trying not to trip in the high heels.

“You heard me.” He reaches for me again. “Turn around. Does it have a zipper?”

“I thought fighters had a no-sex rule before a fight?”

“Nah, that’s a myth.” A playful smile ripples over his lips. “You weren’t worried about rules when you were promising to fuck me hard down in the gym earlier.”

My cheeks heat. I did talk a good game. “Are you sure you want to risk it?”

“Well,” he rubs his hand over his chin, still staring at me like I’m his next meal, “there’s actual science that suggests the more times you climax, the bigger the boost to testosterone. So, it could be beneficial before a fight.”

I can’t help giggling. “So, sex for science?”

“Absolutely.” He grins even wider, making him so damn irresistible. “My first professional-ish fight, I’d gone without, and I lost. So, yeah, let this be our scientific experiment.”

“Ugh. You did not lose that fight as far as I’m concerned. You were robbed.”

He captures me around the waist, pulling me closer but his expression’s more serious. “Thank you.”

“For stating the obvious? You heard how mad the audience was at the reunion show.”

He’s shaking his head before I finish my thought. “No, for even mentioning it. I know how much you hate the show.”

“It’s part of our story now, good or bad.” It took some time to get to this point. “They tried to come between us and lost.” I drape my arms over his shoulders. “You and me against the world, Griff.”

“That’s how it’s always going to be.” He stares at me for a few beats. “Thank you for being here with me,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“I go where you go.” I rub the tips of my fingers through his hair and his eyes drift shut. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you came back to the room.”

“That’s okay. I’m glad you went out. I think you’d be bored hanging in the gym.” He opens his eyes and his mouth flattens into an annoyed line. “And that press conference was bullshit. I don’t want you at any of them.”

“I heard the high school crack about me. These dumbasses don’t know how to count very well, do they?”

His angry scowl deepens. “Please don’t listen to that bullshit.”

“Griff, I don’t care if they poke fun of my age. But I do care about them trying to imply bad things about you because of me.” I step back, showing him my dress again. “I’m hoping this makes me look a little older?”

He studies my body with an appreciative spark in his eyes.

“I know you have more to worry about than my fashion choices,” I say. “I’m just…nervous.”

“Molly,” he breathes out. “You always look…I don’t know what word I’m looking for. Good isn’t strong enough.” He shakes his head, frustrated.

“Well,” a nervous laugh spills out of me, “maybe I’m still a little traumatized from all the jailbait jokes they made on the show.”

“I’m proud you’re my girlfriend. Always. I like the way you dress. Please don’t change anything because of these assholes.” He cocks his head. “Don’t I always comment on how clever your outfits are?”

Yes, he does.Genuine, sweet compliments. Not gross “your boobs look good” comments. “Yes.”

“I hope Magic is as bad in the cage as he is at trash talk. He sounded like an idiot in the clips I heard.”

“He’s a good fighter. He’s only had one loss.” His brow furrows with concern. “Are you sure you’ll be okay at the fight? It’s war inside the cage. Nothing glamorous or pretty.”

“Will I be a distraction for you if I’m there?”

He pauses and seems to consider the question instead of giving an automatic no. “Once the ref sets us loose, I’m focused on getting the job done—taking down my opponent.” He turns his head slightly as if he needs more time to consider my question. “I don’t think you’ll be a distraction.”

Unease curls in my stomach. “If you think I’m going to distract you in any way, I’ll watch from the locker room or something.”

“No. I want you there,” he says firmly. “Remy will be there. The other guys. I know you’ll be safe. That’s the only thing that would worry me.”

I move over to the dresser with the lighted mirror and press my finger to the round dot in the corner of the glass. A bright, flattering light flares from the edge of the mirror.

Gathering my hair, I pile it on top of my head and stand sideways, studying my profile with the updo. “Should I wear my hair up for the fight?”

He steps behind me and presses his lips against my shoulder, then against the crook of my neck. “No. I won’t be able to concentrate. All I’ll be thinking about is doing this.” He peppers more kisses against my neck.

His lips lightly brushing my skin tickles, and my shoulders jerk. He stands back and rests his hands on my waist.

I let my hair down and touch my chest. The dress has a simple round neckline that only shows a hint of cleavage, but my chest still feels bare.

“I didn’t think to bring a necklace or anything other than my little diamond studs.” I pinch my earlobe and wiggle the tiny round bezel-set earrings that had been my mother’s. “The dress is so over-the-top sparkly, no one will notice, right?”

Griff’s mouth twitches. He walks over to the nightstand by his side of the bed and slides the top drawer open, pulling out a white box. “Come here for a second.”

I meet him and he pulls me to sit on the bed with him.

“Here.” He hands me the box.

A pretty, gold logo embossed on top of the box is too elaborate to make out a name. “What is it?”

“Open it.”

I hook my finger in a black silk loop of fabric and gently slide the bottom of the box out. A necklace of thin, glittering white gold with several small diamonds stationed at intervals along the chain rests inside.

“Wow,” I breathe out. “It’s so beautiful.”

“You like it?”

“I love it.” I lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You know me so well.” The dainty strand of diamonds looks so elegant and pretty, I can’t stop staring at it.

“I was going to give it to you after the fight, but I think it goes with your dress.” He grazes my earlobe with his fingertip. “It kind of matches your earrings too.”

I glance at the necklace again. “It does.”

“Did you count the diamonds?” he asks.

“No.” I carefully tap each small stone. “Fourteen?”

“One for each year I’ve known you.”

My heart’s ready to explode. “I love you so much. Thank you.”

“As soon as I saw it, I knew I had to get it for you.” Excitement quickens his words. “I think I owed you something extra nice since I gave you the same car for your birthday two years in a row.”

“I love the car and if it’s the only gift you give me for the rest of our lives, I’d still be happy.” I hold out the necklace. “Will you please put this on for me?”

“Sure.”

I turn and lift my hair. “When did you have time to even find it?”

“When we moved to the hotel, Underhill gave us a morning to go check out the Strip.” His breath’s warm on my neck as he works the clasp. “Got it,” he finally says.

I press my palm against my chest, holding the chain in place while I hurry to the dresser to look in the mirror. “Oh, it’s so pretty.”

“You’re pretty.” He steps behind me and rests his hands on the dresser, caging me in.

In the mirror, I watch our reflection. Griff, so much taller and broader than me, staring at me with so much affection in his eyes as he runs his finger down my spine.

He bends at the knees lightly and slides his hands up my legs, pushing the dress with them, until it’s bunched around my waist.

“What are you doing?” I move to turn around and he stops me with a hand on my back.

“Admiring your legs in those sexy silver heels.”

I pull my hair up again. “There is a zipper back there.”

He lets out an eager hum. His fingers graze my neck as he finds the zipper, sending a lovely shiver over my skin. Cooler air drifts over my back as he slowly drags the zipper down to my waist.

I carefully ease the dress down and step out of it, draping it over the end of the dresser. Griff sucks in a breath. “No underwear?”

“Well, I was only planning to try on the dress for a minute or two.”

He rubs his hand over one cheek and gently squeezes. “I would’ve helped you take it off sooner.”

“I’m sure you would have.”

He works the clasp of my bra loose and I toss it near the dress. “Put your hands on the dresser.”

Our eyes meet in the mirror, and I rest my palms on the flat surface. He skims his hands over my shoulders and down my sides.

“Missed you. I need to get reacquainted with your body.” He glides over my hips, his thumb grazing my butt. “Fuck, these heels are just the right height.”

I reach back and tug at the towel still knotted around his waist and encounter his erection. The towel drops to the floor with a soft whoosh. I curl my hand around him and stroke.

He hisses in a pleasure-mad breath. “Fuuuck. Thought I’d never get hard again after that fucking ice bath. And five seconds of looking at you and here we are.”

“I knew you’d be okay.”

One of his hands slides from my hip to between my legs, his palm scalding against my inner thigh. His fingers tease my opening, then slide higher, in torturously slow circles.

“You’re hot now,” I whisper.

He cups the back of my head and leans closer, crashing his lips against mine in a ravenous kiss that spins me into a vortex of need. He dips his fingers lower, pushing inside me.

I gasp and moan, inching my feet apart and pushing my hips against his hand, chasing my need for pleasure.

My legs tremble. “I need you.”

“But I wanted to take my time.” He kisses and sucks at my neck, increasing the ache at my center. I press my palms flat against the dresser again and arch my back. He slips his hand out, dragging my wetness along my stomach.

One of his hands tightens on my hip as he guides himself into me. “Is this what you want?” He nudges his cock against my opening, and I nod quickly. “So impatient,” he teases.

I can barely keep my eyes open from the intense pressure and pleasure of him squeezing inside me. But I watch him in the mirror. A thrill runs through me at the pure concentration and satisfaction on his face as he pushes all the way inside. For a second, he seems to stop breathing.

From scalp to toes, my body tingles. Heat throbs through my body, slowly centering to where we’re joined. He kisses and nips my neck. I push back against him and he lets out a tortured groan.

“Do that again,” he whispers.

So I do.

In the mirror I meet his eyes. I place one hand over his and drag it from my hip to between my legs.

“Yes,” he encourages. “Show me what you want.”

“Touch me.”

“You feel so good.” He moves his fingers in the slow, circular motion that drives me crazy. Then he slides in and out with a slow, rocking thrust. Over and over. His whole body vibrates from maintaining the slow pace.

“More,” I whisper.

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you,” he rasps. “I want you so fucking much.”

I meet his eyes in the mirror and clench around him. “I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

He moves faster, thrusting harder and harder. Relentless. His hands roam everywhere, sliding and squeezing. Sweat breaks out on my forehead.

The dresser starts to knock into the wall.

“Fuuuck!” He pulls out and captures me around the waist, hauling me to the bed.

“Griff!” I squeal and laugh as we fall onto it in a tangle.

He pushes up on his elbows, bringing himself into the center of the bed. “Come here. Get on top of me.”

I eagerly swing my leg over his hips and promptly get my shoe tangled in the sheet.

“Fuck!” He works to unbuckle my shoe so I can take it off. “Get on my cock. I’ll get your other shoe off.”

I giggle at the absurdity of my shoes causing so many problems, then groan as I sink onto him.

“Yes,” he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. “That’s my girl.”

He finally works the other buckle loose and rips the shoe off, throwing it somewhere across the room.

“Please, I’m begging you, Muffin. Grind your hot little pussy down on my dick. Hard.”

I find a perfect, pulsing rhythm—back and forth. “Touch me,” I gasp.

He shifts his hand from my breast to my thigh, teasing his wicked thumb over my clit in time to my movements.

“Yes, yes, yes.” Blood pulses through my ears. Electricity sparks over my skin. My body shakes. Pleasure shoots through me and I grind myself down harder.

His hands seize my hips and he holds me tight, snapping his hips up, extending and amplifying my orgasm.

His comes in a slow, agonizing release. He pulls me down over him, fusing our mouths together. He groans against my lips and holds tight.

I cling to him for the longest time. Until our hearts return to almost normal. He lifts me off him and I melt onto the bed, curling into a ball against him. He hugs me to his side and kisses my forehead.

“Coach keeps telling me to meditate,” he rasps. “But I think I just reached a higher plane of awareness and absolute clarity with you.”

Still buzzing with electricity, I kiss his cheek and nuzzle against his neck.

Griff

What planet am I on?

My body’s just sort of floating on the bed. Molly’s sweet, sweaty little body’s clinging to me while she drops soft kisses on every inch of me she can reach.

The absolute clarity I reached—if I win Saturday, I want to ask her to marry me.

That probably wasn’t what Coach was talking about.

“Griff?” Molly’s voice holds a note of hesitation. “You’ve been doing it longer. Is it always like this? Amazing and explosive each time? Does it ever get…boring?”

“Boring?” How the fuck do I answer that? I need her to understand I’m dead fucking serious. “I don’t remember anything before you. But nothing could ever be boring between us. No. Never.”

“You’d tell me if there’s a different way you want me to—” She bites her lip and frowns.

“Everything about you is perfect for me.”

“But if?—”

“Molly. I don’t want anything different than who you are.” I tickle my fingers over her ribs. “I love all those sexy fucking sounds you make right before you come.”

Her cheeks redden but she grins at me.

I flex my arm, squeezing her to my side. “Anything different you want me to do?”

To my surprise, she tilts her head and actually seems to consider the question. Well, fuck. Wasn’t expecting that.

I wait, curious what she’s going to say. The corners of my mouth twitch into a smirk. Whatever improvement she suggests, I can’t wait to start working on it right away. Like, immediately.

“You know when I’m on top of you?”

My cock twitches. Fuck yeah, having her ride me is one of my new favorite pastimes. “You mean, like you just did?”

She blushes an ever-brighter shade of pink. “Well, I like when you put your hands right here.” She curls her fingers around my wrist and drags it to her hip and then lower to the crease of her thigh.

My thumb twitches over her soft skin and I grip her tighter. “Like this?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Okay. I can do that.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “Why don’t you get on up there and let me give it a try?”

“You’re not mad?”

I open my eyes comically wide. “Am I mad that you want me to put my hands on you?”

She sits up and shifts to her knees, her legs resting near my hip. “No, that I questioned your prowess.”

I snort. “Question anything you want, Muffin.” I clamp my hand over her hip. “I aim to please. Now, get your cute little ass up there and let’s see if I can get this right.”

She giggles and ducks her head. “You do everything right. I just asked for more of something in particular.”

She glances at my spent cock, who is definitely perking up at this new development. “Well, we did say we have a science experiment to conduct.”