Page 75 of Sterling Fight

“What are you doing, firefly?” he grumbles, not stopping me, hardly moving except for his chest which lifts and lowers a little faster. The ice bag on his side slides off his wound, exposing his bare abdomen. The ripples of his muscles. The firmness of his pecs. The trail of hair leading below his waistband.

“I can fight, too.”

Judd dressed up again for his fight. A crisp shirt. Slick pants. And I reach for his belt, loosening it.

Sex isn’t a substitute, but it’s one way to burn off energy, and while I don’t think Judd has it in him to engage in sex tonight, there are other ways to relieve his mind.

After lowering the zipper of his pants, I wrestle the sides and his boxer briefs below his hips. Tipped up on my knees, I curl my hand around his thick shaft and tug. Judd has the nicest penis. Honestly, the best dick I’ve ever seen, and while I don’t normally love the whole oral thing, tasting him has become a new obsession.

I lick up the length of him and then press a kiss to the leaking tip. I swipe my thumb over the engorged end and Judd hisses.

Don’t fight, Judd, my thoughts whisper. My wishes wish. Fight for me instead.

The thought comes out of nowhere, almost like a sucker punch at me, and to distract myself I open wide and drag Judd into my mouth. His abs contract. He hisses again.

I pull off him. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, baby. No.” His eyes focus on me, and he reaches for my cheek. This tender touch is in such sharp contrast to his swollen knuckles. Hands he so recently used to punch someone else. The thought should still my process, but I want Judd focused on me.

Opening wide once more, I take him deep, dragging up and dropping down his length, until Judd is digging his fingers in my hair and gripping the short waves. He isn’t controlling me as much as it feels like he’s holding on for dear life.

And I recall how he spilled over me last night. So possessive. So intimate.

That snap-crackle-pop between Judd and me is about to become an explosion of wills.

Who will win? What’s the prize?

My fear is that hearts are on the line.

For now, my mission is to cleanse his thoughts and relax his body, and I’ve quickly achieved my goal when Judd tips back his head and groans, like a beast unleashed. He comes down my throat tonight and I swallow the salty mix, feeling powerful and victorious.

When I pull off him, Judd gives me a sultry glance before he shifts faster than I’d think him capable. He winces once but doesn’t stop, hoisting me to the chaise and slipping off the seat to kneel between my knees.

“Judd, you don’t need to.” Tonight wasn’t about tit-for-tat, or even me. I only want him out of his head, and here, at home, like he said.

His hands are already beneath my nightie, though, slipping my underwear to my feet. He doesn’t take a dramatic inhale like he did last night, but he stuffs the panty into his shirt pocket. Then his face is between my thighs and his thick tongue takes a lap up my seam. I cry out and cup his face.

Judd is relentless, diving in with his tongue. Nipping with his teeth. Then soothing the bite with a deep kiss.

Holy hibiscus, I’ve never been taken care of like this. I’m his victory feast.

Judd curls his tongue and then adds fingers, and every touch adds to my sensory overload. Even more than the other night, when he started with The Pickler and ended with his mouth. I’m wound tight, and ready to spring. The anticipation is almost as thrilling as the release which hits me so hard, I double over Judd’s head, curling around him as if I can keep him between my thighs for eternity.

“Judd, Judd, Judd,” I moan, like a prayer and a promise. Yes, yes, yes. He only has to ask, and I might give him anything.

My body and my heart, which scares me more than anything.

26

[Judd]

“Enough.” Genie’s soft command pulls me from my head, and I press a kiss to her center. Then I glance up at her from my position on my knees.

What am I doing? I wasted another night. One where I could have had her on my couch, cuddled under my arm, or in my bed, snuggled up against me. We could have had time together, like we’d spent gardening for two days, but as the clock ticked closer to Saturday evening, I felt like a beast inside me wanted to be released.

Then that creature couldn’t be contained in the ring. My thoughts kept drifting to Genie. What was she doing? What was she thinking? Was she worrying? Was she angry?

We hadn’t fought directly, but a shift happened, and I didn’t know how to shift back.