She showed me that last night. By giving herself to me. By allowing me to take control over her pleasure. By gifting me that trust.
Bishop doesn’t immediately deny it, either.
I’ll take that as another win.
“What I want is to get going, Gage. We have a lot to cover today. I need to introduce you to the Hawke Enterprises empire.”
I nod and dip my head again, my lips brushing her ear. “Do you know how fucking hot it is to know that you’re going to be walking around all day with my cum still inside you?”
“Fuck…”
She shivers, then tugs to try to get her hand free, and I release it one finger at a time.
A scowl twists her lips. “Let’s go, Romeo. It’s time you got a crash course on the Hawkes.”
14
FIVE DAYS LATER
GAGE
Ducking to the right, I barely avoid Atlas’s jab that probably would’ve hit me straight in the face and knocked me the fuck out if I hadn’t been so quick.
He is no fucking joke.
And I know better than to get into the ring with him when I’m not one hundred percent in it.
Which means I probably shouldn’t be here now.
God knows, I’m distracted by the same thing I have been for days…the same person.
She isn’t even here, but I can’t keep my mind from drifting to her when it should be focused on the man in front of me.
I circle around him, bouncing on my toes, trying to stay light on my feet because the only way to beat Atlas “The Hurricane” Hawke is to never give him a fucking millimeter.
One slight misstep, one too-slow response is all he needs to land a punch that could kill some people.
He didn’t win that title belt by being anything but aggressive and deadly.
While this was just supposed to be a friendly sparring match as he gets back into shape to start preparing for his next fight, neither Atlas nor I are good at keeping things casual.
We both have that driving hunger, that desire to win, that need to come out on top, and it’s playing out this morning here at the gym. Even without an audience, we both push. We both take any opening we see and exploit it.
It’s what I was always taught—not just in the ring but in life. To find your enemies’ weaknesses. To use them to your advantage. And apparently so was Atlas, because he’s going much harder today than he did our previous times in the ring.
He can tell I’m distracted, and he’s making me pay for it.
I try to surprise him with a quick jab to his chest, hoping that moving fast and unexpectedly will allow me to sneak in a few good shots. It lands, but I inadvertently open myself up to his right hook.
His glove slams into my jaw, snapping my head back and making little bright lights explode in my vision. My ears ring. My jaw aches.
Fuck.
That one fucking hurt.
The room spins slightly, my vision switching between black spots and ones so bright they almost hurt to look at, but somehow, I manage to stay on my feet.
Barely.
