Page 22 of Stryker


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“Always, Millie.” I rested my head on her shoulder, my eyes fixated on the way Stryker moved around the bag. The way his shoulders rolled with his strikes. The way his feet danced, which were so light for such a large man. The way his skin glistened, as the sweat beaded on it. I wondered what he’d taste like against my tongue; my hands twitched to touch him—to feel his hardness against my softness.

“Evie,” Millie dislodged my head, which caused me to clonk it against the wall.

“Ouch.” I rubbed the sore spot and glared at her.

“Stop daydreaming while staring at that fighter. He keeps losing his concentration with your eyes on him.” Millie smirked.

My head whipped back to him, and he’d stopped hitting the bag and stood glaring at me until Coach gripped his jaw and tugged him around to face away.

I closed my eyes knowing that I was in so much trouble.

Chapter 5 ~ Stryker

THE MEAL I ATE went down without any flavor hitting my taste buds, which was a sign to slow down. I needed to chew more instead of knocking it back, except I was too distracted with thoughts of a curvy redhead to concentrate.

I’d lost concentration at the gym once I’d caught the intense look on her face through the mirror in front of me. Her eyes had devoured me and all I could think about when she licked her lips was having her mouth on my skin. My dick had lengthened and throbbed in my shorts, which caused the slowness in my rhythm. Because no way in hell could I continue to dance around the bag when the ache between my legs nearly left me crippled.

Shoving my plate away, I breathed deeply to try and get my body’s reaction to my thoughts under control before the security team got more than they bargained for.

Five minutes later, I moved into the bedroom to dress. Dropping the towel that I’d wrapped around my waist after the shower, I tossed it into the hamper and pulled on sweats. I was ready to crash in bed with a book. It was still early, just past seven, but I was tired as fuck for a change and wanted to get lost in the world of vampires and lycans.

That plan soon went on the back burner when I heard the apartment door open before it was slammed shut. It wouldn’t be Jamie. He’d left after I’d returned home.

Curiosity, more than anything, had me moving to the door of the bedroom to see which of the security team had decided to invade my space. My heart sank as I found Patrick pacing in the living room. I crossed my arms and rested against the doorjamb

I should have asked Jamie that morning if he knew anything about Patrick. I always stopped myself from questioning him though. I didn’t have friends. No one had the balls enough to even approach me. Jamie, however, was different than the others, and although I still kept my thoughts and fears to myself, sometimes I felt like he’d help me out of the situation I lived in. I’d never risk asking him because he was a family man with a wife, and a child on the way.

I’d hinted a few times that he needed to find a different job, so far though, he hadn’t listened.

As my focus went back to the asshole who continued to pace, he’d yet to see me because he was riled up about something. He was here in my apartment so that meant it involved me. Had he found out about my distraction with his fiancée? Or was it something else?

I watched him silently for a few minutes before his pacing grated on my patience. Finally, I cleared my throat, which got his attention.

I waited and let the silence stretch while I observed him through narrowed eyes.

Outward appearance, he looked like any young businessman. Lawyer maybe. His dark blue pants were neatly pressed along with his dress shirt and blazer. He certainly didn’t look like he’d come from the gym.

Finally, Patrick stood facing me—hands on his hips, and deep frown lines across his forehead.

“We need to talk about your upcoming fight.”

I stiffened, my eyes filled with a hardened resolved as I focused more clearly on him. He’d definitely had my full attention. I waited silently…everything was a waiting game with these guys.

“It’s not that long off,” Patrick stated, not looking happy. “You should have had a sparring partner long before this, but it couldn’t be helped. Coach is getting in touch with Carter. He’s similar height and weight to your opponent. Just don’t kill him.”

“Who? Carter or my opponent?” I moved closer and dropped down onto the chair in front of him, feeling so damn tired but not willing to let Patrick know that. Anger clouded my face, which he would see along with the clenched fists resting on my thighs.

Patrick narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “Don’t get smart with me. You know who the hell I mean. Carter is to be used for sparring only, your real opponent…anything goes.”

I clenched my jaw tightly before I let fly what I really wanted to say. An anything goes fight meant no rules. It was underground, usually Russian organized—from past experience, and it wasn’t legal.

“Who?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

I froze, my anger churned just under the surface and I knew that was a lot closer to the surface than Patrick would like. “Don’t you want me to win this fight?” I growl. “Isn’t your money going to be going on…ME?”

Patrick jumped in surprise at my anger and before he could cover it, I caught a brief glimpse of fear.

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