Folding myself into the chair behind a pockmarked desk, I watch him wear a path on the floor, back and forth. “So, tell me the story.”
Still pacing, he catches my eye, then breaks off the contact as he turns. “Like I told you yesterday, I grew up in foster care and moved around a lot, especially as a teenager. Fifteen-year-old boys with a chip on their shoulder aren’t at the top of foster parents’ wish lists.”
He spins on his heel, his gaze burning into mine, and prickles of lust shoot south at the same time as my heart aches for him. How must it have felt to be cast aside? To know nobody wanted you? Even if my parents have never been what you might call traditionally loving, I never doubted they wanted me. I don’t say anything, letting him continue at his own speed.
“The MMA gym one of my foster fathers ran was the first place I belonged. I had a lot of anger, and I worked it out on those mats. The guys were really accepting. I can’t have been easy to get along with, but they made room for me. Even when I had to move on, I kept going back. Then, when I moved again, I found a new MMA gym.”
“It sounds like MMA is important to you,” I say softly.
He nods, coming over to me and drawing me to my feet. “It’s my religion. The thing that gives me direction, purpose, and a sense of things being all right. That’s why I started doing this. I wanted to give these kids that same experience.” He swallows, the cords of his throat moving, and those gray eyes of his are hot but full of pain at the same time. “If I can do that for even one of them, then I’ve succeeded.”
I can’t believe this guy is the same one who sat opposite me in my office three days ago, giving me lip. I was blind not to see the depth he has. And while my heart thumps erratically, yearning to remove the shadows of his past, my body craves him. I want to take him in my arms and soothe his wounded soul. I want to kiss him, to smooth my hands over the planes and dips of his muscles and tug him closer. But most of all, I want him to fill the empty, throbbing part of me that wakes up every time he’s around.
You can’t, Lena.
Jase’s hands land on my shoulders, and he brushes my hair back, his thumbs sliding over the sensitized skin of my neck. He’s studying me like I’m a math problem he needs to solve, and then slowly, agonizingly, his lips claim mine and lay waste to my good intentions.
10
Jase
The way Lena looks at me like she’s seeing something beautiful is too damn much. I can’t take it. I have to kiss her, and once I’ve stolen a taste, I want more. My tongue plunges deeper into her mouth and I haul her fully into my arms. She slings a leg over one of my hips, and I grab fistfuls of her butt as she wraps those legs around my waist, her skirt riding up to reveal thighs that are milky against the tan of my arms.
Fuck, she’s sexy. My arms are full of warm, willing Lena. She’s attacking my mouth with the same vigor I did hers a moment ago, and I can’t think of anything better. I dig my fingers into the flesh of her ass and she moans, the vibrations tickling my lips.
Warning sirens are blaring in my head. I have a fight in less than two weeks, and my rule is never to fuck around at a time like this. The trouble is, whatever I’m doing with Lena—which feels damn good, by the way—isn’t just fucking around. It’s something real. Tonight she’s made me feel good about myself in a way no other woman has, and it’s got nothing to do with the number of belts I’ve won, or the size of my dick. She honest-to-God cares about Jase Rawlins—the man, rather than the champion.
Her tongue tangles with mine and she grips my shirt and jerks it, a growl of frustration coming from the back of her throat. Despite myself, I laugh. She sounds like a grumpy kitten, and it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.
She swats me. Her lips are pouty, her lipstick smeared, eyes slumberous. “Don’t laugh at me, Rawlins.”
Reluctantly, I ease back and lower her to the ground. She slides down my body, and the friction has me hard enough to hammer nails. When I gasp, her eyes light up. She rubs herself over me again, and I grit my teeth, breath hissing between them.
“Lena,” I pant. “Slow down.”
Her palms rest flat on my chest, over my heart, and hell if I don’t love the sensation. “Don’t wanna.”
“Look.” I step back, creating a few inches of space. “There’s clearly something going on between us, but if we’re going to do anything about it, our first time shouldn’t be in a crappy office with people down the hall.” Though if she keeps looking at me like that, it just might be.
Lena licks her lips. “Fair point,” she says, and although she’s agreeing with me, my dick droops in disappointment. “Why don’t we take this to my place?”
And it perks right up again, the horny fucker. “You mean it?”
Those pouty lips fashion themselves into a smile. “Yeah, I do. I shouldn’t, but I can’t seem to help myself when it comes to you.”
Hell, I’m not a saint, and I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Screw the rules. I drop my shoulder and toss her over it. “Where’d you park?”
Squealing, she thumps my back. “Put me down!”
“Not gonna happen.”
I pick up her purse and carry her fireman-style through the center and out to the parking lot. I took an Uber earlier because I don’t like to show up in my expensive ride and flaunt my wealth in everyone’s faces. I spot her ridiculous car and head toward it. Gently, I lower her onto the hood and stand between her knees, cupping her face to kiss her. She nips my lip, and I laugh.
“Guess I deserved that.”
“More than that, asshole.” But there’s no heat in her words.
“Give me your keys.”
