Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 19856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 99(@200wpm)___ 79(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 99(@200wpm)___ 79(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
I was a robot as I let her lead the way, and when we squeezed between several people, I felt like even more electricity moved between us. We were so close, closer than I thought we’d ever been before. I’d be able to feel the sweat and blood splatter on me if I wasn’t careful.
I was in this haze, my body not my own, my thoughts consumed while I waited for them. I secretly loved to come out and show the world he was the strongest male ever to live.
The years of longing for Oli had passed. I’d come to that realization last week after his last fight, when I felt the longing start to grow too deep, when I went home alone and touched myself as I pictured him. I didn’t want to wait anymore. It physically hurt not to be with him.
There had been too many sleepless nights of me aching for him. Too many what ifs that passed through my mind. I’d saved myself for Oli, and I was burning alive to finally give myself over.
Tonight was the night I’d talked myself into telling him everything.
That I burned for him.
Yearned for him.
That I pleasured myself as I thought of his big body over mine, his massive hands memorizing every inch of me.
God, I was flushed just thinking about it all. Fear couldn’t hold me back anymore.
And I knew without a doubt he wouldn’t deny me. God help us both… we wouldn’t deny each other.
2
Oli
I started pacing, moving back and forth, feeling the blood rush through my veins, the adrenaline settling in my gut. I had my earbuds in, hard, angry music blasting into my skull.
Eyes closed, breathing even, I felt myself center as years of discipline had my body becoming the well-trained machine it was.
I leaned against the cinderblock wall, my head resting back, one knee bent, foot flat on the surface behind me. I was trying to get myself calm and collected for the fight. It normally wasn’t an issue. Fighting was like breathing. It centered me. But if Bryn was watching—which I knew she was—I felt anything but calm on the inside.
It was easy enough to play it off like I wasn’t a whirlwind of need. I did it pretty fucking well, but it was an act, one no one would ever know about.
Bryn. My younger sister’s best friend. The only woman I ever wanted so passionately it practically changed the makeup of my DNA.
As soon as I’d seen her a year ago, when Bernadette had brought her to the house for the first time, my entire fucking world shifted. It had been happenstance that I’d even been at our parents’ house that night, but I knew why I’d been there. Fucking fate.
I pictured that day in my mind, how Bryn had come into the house, looking all shy and sweet, so damn innocent. A deep growl left me, this possessiveness slamming into my body over and over again simply from thinking about her.
I’d been on the couch, my second beer in hand, bullshitting with my old man. Bernadette had made introductions, and I heard every fucking thing that had to do with Bryn. I filed the information away, wanting to know more, hungry for it.
And after that first time seeing her, I made sure to be at my parents’ house more times than not, simply because I knew Bryn would be there. She was always there, she and Bernadette quickly becoming close.
She’d only been eighteen, a new transplant in town, starting her first year of college. Pure. Yeah... she was fucking pure as hell. I smelled it on her, knew she’d have that perfect little cherry still.
My cock was stiff, painful as it pressed to my nylon shorts. I reached down and adjusted the hefty length, gritting my teeth as the subtle touch caused a wave of arousal to spike up my spine and down my balls.
Fuck. I knew she was out there. Bryn was always at my Saturday fights. These were the “non-official” official ones. Meaning, nothing was really official when you were fighting illegally, but these were planned, organized.
But the back-alley brawls I fought—the ones no one knew about unless you ran in a certain circle, unless you were ready to throw down some real money—was the only time I wasn’t wound up so fucking tight.
And it was because she wasn’t watching, because I wasn’t constantly worried about her being out there surrounded by drunk, dumb fucks.
I breathed out slowly, the possessiveness in me increasing by the second. Knowing she was out in that crowd, bodies all around her, those fucking guys inadvertently touching her because the room was packed, had jealousy spiking through me. I didn’t even want them fucking looking at her.
I gnashed my teeth together and felt white-hot rage burn inside me.