Full Contact (Worth the Fight #2) (10 page)

Slade threw his head back and roared a laugh. “I already knew that, Jess.”

“You did? How?”

“I didn’t
know
know. But I figured you did. Everyone does it.” Then, as if he’d been suddenly enlightened, his lips curved in a devilish grin. “Actually, that’s my fantasy.”

“What is?”

“Seeing you touch yourself.”

“Ha! Well, that fantasy isn’t gonna happen, buddy, so find another one.”

“Oh, it will.” In one swift move he was on her. “I can just picture it. Your beautiful white skin beginning to flush, your cheeks red, your breath jagged, and your long hair a messy disaster. First…” He grabbed her right hand, brought it to his mouth, and sucked each and every finger. She felt herself melt at the first contact of his tongue; by the time he had finished sucking on the fifth, her heart was pounding against her chest. “First you run your fingers down your chest.” He moved to her side, giving her room, his hand leading her hand. “Down and down until you find your wet pussy.”

Her eyes were glazed over with lust. His hand over hers, he began to move her hand in small circles as he spoke. Her eyes closed, and then she felt his hands leave hers. “Baby, keep going.” She hesitated for a moment but was too turned on to stop. She continued to move her hand, losing herself in the sensation. Forgetting for a brief moment that Slade stood there looking at her in her most private of moments, she slipped a finger inside herself, and her back arched.

“Holy fuck, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” She abruptly opened her eyes and saw him standing in front of the bed, his hand on his rock-hard dick. He reached forward, linked his arms around her thighs, and pulled her to the edge of the bed. She squealed, but he urged her to continue. “Don’t stop, Jessica, keep touching yourself,” he whispered, his voice deep and desperate. She closed her eyes and continued. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever done. Hell, it was more erotic then any fantasy she’d ever had. When she opened her eyes, on the verge of climax, Slade was gone. She looked left, then right, and then got up on her elbows before suddenly being assaulted—in the best possible way.

He was on his knees and his mouth was on hers. She couldn’t help but try to watch. It was hard, because the sensation was taking over and she couldn’t stay on her elbows any longer. He sucked and licked over and over again. When he slid one finger in her, she bucked and squeezed his head with her thighs. He didn’t stop. His finger went in and out as his tongue worked its magic. She writhed and squeezed harder. “Fuck! Slade, oh my God…”

He continued to lick even as the massive orgasm ripped through her body in a violent burst, leaving her limp. But he was obviously not ready to call it a night. Still wordless, in one swift move he stood up, scooped her off the bed, and plunged into her. How and when he’d put the condom on she didn’t know.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his hips. His hands went around her waist and he guided her up and down as he thrust into her. It was unbelievable. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. Only feel. Her face was buried in his neck. He grunted as he continued to do all the work, pushing and pulling her up and down as he thrust. “Jesus. You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Don’t stop, Slade. Don’t stop.”

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to. God, Jessica, you feel so good.”

As he continued to move her up and down, the sensation started to become overwhelming. The fact that he was so strong that he could accomplish this, combined with all the licking and sucking and sexing, made her explode in a way she hadn’t even known was possible. And when she came, instead of screaming, she bit down on his shoulder. Hard.

“Oh, fuck!” he groaned, right before he followed her into his own ecstasy.

Still connected, he collapsed with her onto the bed.

“I think we hit most major points,” he said breathlessly. “Hot, crazed, lusty, uninhibited, merciless sex. Just like in your fantasies.”

She turned her head to look at him. “No, Hercules. That wasn’t in any of my fantasies. My imagination isn’t as creative as that. You are one strong man, Slade Martin.”

“We aim to please.”

“Oh, you certainly pleased. What the hell was that? It was like…floating sex.”

He snorted. “Floating sex?”

“Yeah, you were standing in the middle of the room! I felt like I was floating. No bed, no wall. Just your arms.”

“Was that your first floating sex?” he asked with a chuckle, then kissed her cheek.

The words came out before she could stop them. “Have you done it like that before?” She hated herself for asking. She didn’t want to be the insecure girl who asked
those
questions.

“You’re cute, Jessica.” He got out of bed and headed toward the kitchen. “By the way,” he called, “you bit me. Made my dick even harder. Do that again next time.”

He came back in with two glasses of water and handed her one. “And no, I’ve never done that before.”

Her face lit up. “It was freakin’ amazing!”

“Yeah. It was. You’re amazing, Jessica.” His eyes softened. His finger caressed the scar Dennis had left on her jaw. “Amazing and beautiful.”

Her eyelids were heavy. “Sleep over?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” He turned off the lamp, got into bed, and pulled her close. That was the last thing she remembered before falling asleep. She was the most at peace, the most content, and the most sated she had ever been in her life.

A few nights later, Jessica’s hand was entwined with Slade’s as they walked out of a restaurant toward his bike.

“You seem preoccupied tonight,” Jessica said.

“Yeah, guess I am,” Slade said as he kick-started his motorcycle; anything else he might have said was drowned out by the noise of the bike. She held tight and felt the warm Florida heat against her skin. Being behind him on his bike was one of her favorite things to do with Slade—though only when she was in jeans and sneakers and dressed casually.

As soon as they arrived at his house, Slade got off his bike and helped her off. They’d been staying often at his house, mostly because Slade loved being oceanfront, and Jessica found that waking up to the sound of the ocean and enjoying her morning coffee on the beach was soothing to her soul. Once in a while she found herself doing yoga on the empty beach as the sun came up. It was blissful.

Slade yawned as soon as he walked in. “Tony’s supposed to start training tomorrow. Actually, he was supposed to start last week, but he cancelled. Not a good start. I’ve been told he’s a real prick. Short fuse. I have to get him focused. The success of WtF is linked to his success.” Jessica was unsure of what that meant, and her confusion must have showed, because he added, “If he wins, it’s a lot of money. A lot. Not to mention the publicity the Academy will get. Tony is a big-ticket fighter. Francesca brought him to WtF, but she’s been in Brazil since Tony arrived. Her dad’s not doing well. I don’t know when she’s coming back, and she was supposed to be here to deal with Tony. But I don’t think they’ve even met yet.” He brushed some hair off her face. “He’s such a great fighter. Frances did good bringing him on board, but I hope we didn’t get in over our heads. One of the reasons we’ve invested so much money into renovations to the gym is because of him. He could be a millionaire if he wanted to, but he’s too busy being a dick.”

“Doesn’t he know this? It’s his money too. Can’t he just keep it together?” she asked as they headed to his bedroom.

Slade laughed and began to take off his clothes to get ready for bed. “Babe, he’s been to a dozen different trainers. No one wants him. He’s explosive and volatile. He parties too hard and doesn’t train enough. He’s always getting in a fight.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“No, babe—fight as in bar fight or street fight. He’s known as Scarface, partly because he’s Cuban and partly because of a scar on his face that he got not from a professional fight but in a drunken street brawl.”

“Oh.”

“Exactly. Street fights don’t pay the bills. Not to mention they can get him arrested and/or injured. It could be the end of his career and a huge loss for the Academy.”

Jessica slipped into bed and started brushing her hair.

“Sounds like he needs therapy. Or an anger management class. Or yoga,” Jessica teased.

Slade lay down on the bed next to her and chuckled. “Yeah.”

Jessica stopped brushing her hair and looked at him. “Actually…yoga might really help. It’s physically strenuous, which may appeal to him, and it can help him relax. Plus it’ll make him more agile in the ring or cage or whatever.”

“Wait—you’re serious?” Slade asked.

Jessica nodded.

“He might be shorter than me, but that man is huge. He’s a heavyweight cage fighter—he can’t do yoga. Can you picture him sitting on the floor in one of those poses you do?”

“I get how you can’t picture it, but there are lots of men who do yoga. You know how football players sometimes do ballet to work on their coordination? Well, yoga is probably a good tool for a crazy street brawler who should be just a badass professional cage brawler.”

“I don’t know, Jess. I don’t think he’d do it.”

“Well, there’s a class tomorrow at the Om Spot.”

Slade laughed. “Hell, no. That dude’s not going to sit and do yoga with a bunch of chicks. I guarantee you that.” He paused. “Wait. I have an idea.
You
teach him.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“I don’t think—”

“Look, do one-on-one classes with him. Help him learn to relax and focus. I’ll pay you for your time, of course.”

“I’m not accepting your money. If you need my help, I’ll do it for free. You’ve helped me so much, it’s the least I can do.”

“No, I’m going to pay you. Don’t worry, it comes out of Tony’s pocket, anyway. And you love yoga. Didn’t you say you’d love to have your own studio? Well, here’s a chance to have your first student.”

“I don’t know, Slay….”

“Say yes.”

“But—”

“Just say yes,” he repeated.

“It really means that much to you?” Jessica asked. Slade nodded. “Then yes.”

Slade gave her
the
smile, the one that always seemed to make her all gooey and fluttery. “Now, how do I convince the son of a bitch to do yoga when he doesn’t even want to hit the bags or the weights?” Slade mused out loud. “Frances needs to get her ass back to Florida and help me figure this shit out.”

That was the least appealing thing she’d heard Slade say in a long time.

“Slaaaade?” he heard when he walked into the gym.

Francesca had returned that morning from Brazil, and was in the office going through all the paperwork that had accumulated while she was gone. The office was her territory. The gym and the guys were his.

“What?”

“I come back to all this?” She lifted a huge bundle of papers and slapped them back onto the table. “My office is a mess. You didn’t even bother to open the mail.”

“It’s
our
office. And I’ve been busy. I’ve put a shitload of hours into this place with all the renovations—which, I might add, are taking forever, since the crew we hired sucks. I’m just hoping it will all be done for the grand reopening in just over a month. And I still have guys I’ve had to train for upcoming matches. I don’t have time to play with papers.”

“Playing? Is that what you think I do? Is that my official fucking job title, ‘paper player’?”

“Shit, Frances, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant I don’t have time for that. You deal with the business part, I deal with the gym stuff. That was the deal.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” She sighed in frustration. “With Papai sick, I let things go here.
Merda
, Slade, I’m sorry. You’re right. This isn’t your department.”

Francesca normally had a big stick up her ass and never seemed frazzled. Hearing her apologize was disconcerting; he figured she must be really concerned about her dad’s illness.

The door abruptly opened and Travis strolled in, eating an apple, a huge man right behind him.

“Hey, boss. Hey, beautiful boss,” Travis said to them.

“Don’t you knock?” Francesca asked.

“Nah. Not normally.” He grinned wickedly and looked back and forth between them, “Wait…should I start?” He waggled his eyebrows as he took another huge bite of the fruit.

Slade leaned forward and slapped Travis’s shoulder. Then he addressed the man behind Travis.

“Yo, Antonio. You missed training again on Monday. We on for tomorrow? I was thinking we’d start with some weights. Get you back in fighting shape. Whaddaya think?” Slade said.

“Tony. Call me Tony,” the man said by way of greeting. “You’re the new trainer who’s going to put me in my place, yet you’re asking me what to do?” Even though it was said in a playful tone, Slade noted a hint of sarcasm.

Francesca stood up. “No.
I’m
the one who’s going to put you in your place.” She stuck her hand out. “I’m Francesca Silva, co-owner of WtF Academy. Slade is going to train you, but I’m the one who made the deal with your agent. You mess things up, it’s my ass on the line.”

Tony’s hand gripped hers as his eyes made their way down her tall, lean body, then back up slowly to her red hair. He leaned down and kissed her hand. “Haven’t seen your ass yet,
muñeca
, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t want anything to happen to it.”

Francesca rolled her eyes before yanking her hand from his grip. “Slade and I have some urgent business to take care of. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Francesca—
que nombre mas bello para una mujer tan bella.
A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

“Acho que você está cheio de merda.”

“I have no idea what you just said, but that sounded sexy as fuck,” Tony said.

“Wasn’t that Spanish?” Travis asked.

“No. Portuguese. I don’t speak Spanish,” she said to Travis, then turned back to Tony. “I said you’re full of shit. Stick to English. And don’t flirt with me.”

“Hold up—are you Frankie?”

Francesca looked taken by surprise. “Who told you that? I haven’t gone by that name in a long time.”

“My old trainer, Lucio, was a friend of your dad’s. He told me all about your dad and that I’d be working with Frankie. I pictured some old beer-bellied has-been full of tattoos. I was very wrong.” He gave her hand a final kiss before leaving the office.

When they were alone again, Slade turned to his partner. “Come on, let’s tackle all this paper. It’s still early—we can get this all cleaned up. I’ll grab one pile and you grab the other. I’ll throw away the junk mail and make a pile for the other stuff.”

An hour later, when they were finally finished, Francesca leaned back in her chair. “That was as fun as having a Pap smear.”

“Eww, Frances. That’s too much information.” He shook his head and changed the subject. “I have to get Tony’s ass in gear. Did you see him? He’s completely out of shape.”

Francesca nodded. “Cain has a fight coming up. I think Tony should sign up for a fight on the same bill. He’s arrogant, and the only way to get him to listen is to get his ego involved. If he loses a small-time fight, he’ll work hard. We need him in tip-top shape for the big fight at the end of the year.”

“Tell me about it. If he wins the big one, between the prize and the endorsements our cut would be about a quarter of a million. Not to mention the fighters who’ll contract us to train them.”

“That’s
if
he can get his shit together.” Francesca stood and walked around her desk. She placed a hand on Slade’s shoulder. “Listen, Tony’s not your usual fighter. He’s a huge pain in the ass.”

“We all are. I can handle him.”

“No. He’s here because it’s the last stop. Both his agent and his endorsement contracts are about ready to pull out. The guy used to be the golden boy of MMA, but he has a major chip on his shoulder. Sleeps with anything that walks, drinks like a fish, and sometimes doesn’t even make it to the ring.”

“I know he’s a prima donna—he’s already missed training. We can’t cater to him, but we can’t be dicks either, because he’ll stand his ground just to make a point. We gotta make this work.”

“Merda. Espero que sim,”
she mumbled. Slade looked at her with his eyebrows furrowed. “I said, ‘Shit, I hope you’re right.’ ”

When Slade left the gym later that afternoon, he badly wanted to see Jessica and tell her about his hellish day. That wasn’t something he’d ever done before with any other woman, but he felt as if he needed to unload and that she would help.

As soon as he opened the door to the Pier, her head whipped around. It was as if they were magnetically connected. The bar seemed relatively empty, and she had been wiping down a table. She stopped, smiled, and ran—ran!—up to him and jumped, her legs locking around his waist. Thank God he had braced himself because she came so fast it had caught him off guard. She planted kisses on his lips, neck, and cheeks. A few patrons whistled and others laughed. His hand went to her ass to hold her up.

“Now, that’s what I’m talking about. Awesome greeting, babe.” He was feeling better already.

“Oh, gross!” he heard his sister say. He looked over Jessica’s shoulder to see Chrissy sitting at the bar.

“Hi, sis.” Then he looked back at the woman currently wrapped around his body. “What’s with all the love?”

“I wasn’t expecting you—I guess I was just happy to see you. Got carried away.” Her cheeks flamed. “Too much?” she asked, embarrassed.

“Never. A happy Jessica is never too much.” He kissed her back. Still carrying Jessica, he walked over to the bar, gave his sister a peck on the cheek, and set Jessica down on the bar.

“I don’t know how hygienic it is to have the bartender’s ass on the bar,” Chrissy said wryly.

“More hygienic than Ralph’s puke—he threw up right there last week,” Jessica retorted, pointing to the spot where Chrissy’s drink sat, “after one too many shots.”

Chrissy wrinkled her nose and chuckled. “That’s just gross.”

Jessica jumped down, reached for a rag, and wiped down the bar top, specifically the spot where she had just sat.

“So, what’s up?” she asked Slade as he took a seat next to his sister.

“Bad day.” Then he leaned over and kissed her forehead. “But it just got better.
Much
better.”

“You guys are so cute!” Chrissy squealed.

“What happened?” Jessica asked, getting a beer for Slade.

“Frances is back, but she freaked out over the office being a complete mess. And we’re trying to figure out how best to deal with Tony. Just a lot of bullshit things.”

“So what are you going to do?” Jessica asked.

“We have a few minor fights coming up in the next month or so, and we’re going to try to convince Tony to fight. If he wins, great. But Frances thinks that if he loses, the blow to his ego will be enough to make him serious about training. We need him to do good later this year. If things work out with Tony, then we’re gold. The guy brings in major money. And if we can turn it around for him, we’ll be able to bring in other big-name fighters.”

“Seems like you have a lot invested in this guy,” Chrissy observed.

“Yeah. A little too much. Scares the shit out of me, but it’s all we have right now.”

“I know you’ll do great. It’ll all work out.” Jessica kissed his cheek before going to serve a group of people who’d just walked in.

When it was just the two siblings, Chrissy looked at Slade and smiled. When he noticed, he rolled his eyes. “Stop that.”

“What?”

He waved a hand. “All the smiling.”

She snorted. “You want me to stop smiling?”