Page 61 of Fight from the Heart

“He wouldn’t be able to steal me.” As sick as it may sound, I belong to only one man.

Jacob tucks me into his chest, wrapping both his arms around me, and we ride in silence until we reach his condo. Ella and Ethan are still out, but it doesn’t matter. Jacob leads me directly to the guest bedroom. He’s not taking me to his room where he’s been with her. Not stopping in the bedroom, he leads me into the bathroom and turns on the shower. Spinning back to me, he runs his gaze over my outfit.

“This dress,” he hums before spinning me and slowly unzipping the back. He gently brushes the sides, allowing the material to fall from my shoulders, and I catch it with my bent elbows. He kisses the back of my neck, sucking at my skin before pulling back. Looking at him over my shoulder, I moan his name.

“Just a shower,” he whispers. With hands on my forearms, he lowers my arms so the dress falls to the floor. I step out of my shoes and spin to face him. He tugs off his sweatshirt and lowers the sweats and the everything underneath. I stare at him in all his magnificent glory, with tattoos marking is body in various places. He continues to eye me as I stand in my bra and underwear.

“You can get in with or without them, but you’re getting in there with me. I need to feel your skin close to mine.” He’s settled a little from the urgency of the gym and the aggressive eagerness to take me. But he’s still vibrating with energy, his chest heaving in anticipation of something.

“No sex,” I blurt out as my body cries out to me, why?

Jacob nods. “Get in.” I strip myself of my bra and underwear, feeling the heat of his gaze all over my skin. Once I enter, Jacob follows me, and we stand awkwardly under the small spray.

“I was rough back there.” His quiet voice hints at apology as he lowers his eyes, but I shake my head.

“What happened?” I swipe at his temple and then quickly retract my hand. He catches my wrist and brings my hand back to his face. We’re standing here, naked as the day, watering streaming over us, and I’ve never been so turned in on in my life. While my head keeps telling me to tone it down, the pulse between my thighs ratchets up.

“Fight high,” he explains, and I nod. “Did you like watching me?”

How do I respond? “I don’t like you hitting someone or someone hitting you, but I can see that it invigorates you. You like it, don’t you?” My hand swipes down his cheek, along his jaw and over his throat, lowering for his chest.

“I like the control. The win. It’s a different kind of high than drinking.”

We all have our vices in life. If Jacob has to pick only one, I don’t know how he’d choose.

Cautiously, a finger of his reaches out for my collarbone and skims along it. My body shivers.

“I want to be the only one who touches you,” he says, his voice calmer than the demands of earlier. The finger at my collar lowers, slipping between the valley of my breasts as rivulets of water cascade over them, trickling off my firm nipples.

Shaky hands of mine lift for his shoulders and rub over the heat of his skin, the mixture of his fight and the water keeping him warm. As I stroke down his shoulders, his finger dips lower, but I catch his wrist before he can touch me there.

“Lilac.” The pained sound forces all my attention to his smoldering eyes.

“Consider this a fight,” I whisper to him. “The fight to only touch but not tease.”

“Oh, you’re teasing me, angel.” With our gaze pinned on one another, he shifts his body in a way that forces my warm back to the cool of the tile. I cry out at the juxtaposition, and he lowers to nip at my neck.

“Jacob,” I hiss in warning.

“That’s right, angel. Me. I’m the only one who can do this to you, but please don’t stop me from kissing you.”

My hands skim his body, curling over his shoulders to his shoulder blades. He’s wider than me, and this forces him closer, his firm length positioned between our bodies.

“Angel,” he whispers. His mouth takes mine slowly, dragging out the kiss while his hand skates over my hip, curling around to my backside and tugging me forward. Our wet skin meets, and I whimper at the firmness of him against me. My core pulses, and I want him, but I don’t. My thoughts are wild but keeping him at bay is just as exciting.

The flat of his hand comes forward, and he breaks the kiss to watch as his palm slides up my thigh coming close to the mound at the apex of my legs. My hands do the same on him, nearing his hard length but not touching him.

“Never going to get enough of you,” he mutters, his fingers spread but stop short of where I want him. Mine do the same on him, itching to touch him, wrap my hand around him, and tug.

This fight is similar yet not to the one he performed in the ring. It’s a battle of wills. Still skin to skin but not satisfying one another. I want him to know he doesn’t have to jab with someone to feel the thrill, to anticipate the high.

“Never want to lose you.” The words are delightful and damning. I want him to mean them. His forehead comes to mine, and he tugs me against him again, but we still don’t meet in the way he wants. My hands grip his biceps, holding myself against him. Peaked nipples press to his chest. We both exhale at the sensation of skin against skin.

“Let me in,” he whispers.

“Resist,” I tell him, speaking quietly at his ear.

“I don’t want to fight it.” He sighs. The pull is great, but there are things in our way. His head pops up, and his mouth crashes mine again, holding the back of my neck to keep me attached to him. He groans, and he hums, and his tongue joins the struggle. He kisses me like he wants to enter me, slipping his tongue back and forth, and the flutters at my belly build, but I won’t give in to him.