Page 37 of Between the Ropes

And I can’t help but feel like I’m part of it, like I’m right there with him, cheering him on every step of the way.

28

Adrenaline courses through my veins as I make my way up the ramp, my chest heaving with each breath. The arena is a cacophony of sound—half the crowd cheering, half stunned that Jason Bell tapped out in a number-one contender's match. I live for this shit. This is what it’s all about. The high of the fight, the rush of victory. It’s my year, and I fucking know it. Nothing will stop me from winning that belt.

At the top of the ramp, I glance back at the ring. Jason’s still on the mat, struggling to get to his feet. I give him a small nod of respect—he put up a good fight—but the truth is, I was never going to lose. Not tonight. Not to him. As I turn to face the sea of people, my gaze catches the signs with my name scrawled across them, the fans wearing my t-shirt, chanting my name. My name. It’s moments like this that fuel me. This is what I’ve worked my entire life for.

I stride through the backstage hallways, shoulders back, chest out. A few of the guys stop to congratulate me on the match, but I barely acknowledge them. My mind’s already somewhere else—onher. The need to see Natalie is a storm brewing inside me. I shower quickly, scrubbing the sweat and grime from the match off my skin. My reflection in the mirror is sharp, eyes still burning from the adrenaline. I pull on a pair of sweats and one of my own t-shirts before heading toward her office.

I expect her to be alone. But when I push the door open, Jason Bell is sitting on the table, shirt off, while Natalie’s delicate hands glide over his shoulder, checking him for injuries. My blood runs hot, irritation flooding my veins as I clench my fists at my sides. Her fingers on his skin? I know it’s her job, but that doesn’t make it easier to swallow. The jealousy blooms like poison in my chest, dark and possessive. She’s mine.

I clear my throat, the sound cutting through the room, and both of them look up. Jason’s expression is neutral, maybe a little sheepish, but Natalie’s face lights up when she sees me, and it eases some of the tension knotting in my gut. But not all of it. Not yet.

“Ryan,” Jason says, moving to stand and extending his hand to me.

I take it, but I don’t let go right away, giving his hand a good squeeze, maybe just a little too hard. “You done talking to my girl?” My voice is low, gruff, and I make sure my eyes bore into his. Dark, possessive.

Jason blinks, his eyes flicking between me and Natalie. “Didn’t realize she wasyourgirl.”

“Well, now you do,” I say, my grip tightening for just a second longer before I finally release his hand.

Jason gives me a stiff nod, murmuring some lame congratulations on my win, and then he disappears down thehallway, quick to get out of my space. Good. I don’t want him—or anyone else—touching what’s mine.

The second he’s gone, my attention snaps to Natalie. She’s standing there, watching me with those wide, beautiful eyes of hers. The sight of her, so calm and steady after what just happened, grounds me. But the urge to claim her, to stake my claim right here, is still burning hot under my skin.

“You were incredible out there,” she says, her voice soft, but filled with so much admiration it makes my chest swell. “Seriously, you were... wow.”

I can’t help the grin that stretches across my lips. She wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me down into a kiss that’s all heat, passion, and possession. I kiss her back hard, gripping her waist, pulling her body flush against mine. I need her close, need her to feel just how much I want her. My hand slides up her back, threading through her hair as our lips move together, the taste of her intoxicating.

When we finally break apart, her eyes are hooded, her breath coming in short gasps. “I don’t know how I’m going to get through dinner when all I can think about is dessert,” I murmur, my lips brushing against hers, voice rough with need.

She laughs softly, shaking her head, but the blush on her cheeks tells me she feels the same way.

We leave the arena hand in hand, walking through the crowded halls, past the other talent. Eyes are on us. They see us together, and that’s exactly what I want. I want them to know she’s mine, that she belongs to me, and no one else gets to touch her. There’s a shift in the air as we pass by—whispers, curious glances—but I don’t give a damn. They’ll know soon enough. Everyone will.

When we finally reach my car in the parking garage, I open the door for her, and she slides in. I can barely keep my eyes off her as I get behind the wheel. The need to touch her, to have her, isclawing at me, but I keep my focus as I speed out of the lot and into the night.

“How does room service at the hotel sound?” I ask, my voice gruff.

She glances at me, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Sounds perfect.”

I’d like to take her out, to a nice dinner like she deserves, but right now, I need her like I need air.

I don’t waste any time getting us back to the hotel. The suite I’ve got is massive, way more space than I need, but I like the luxury. And I want to impress her. When we step inside, her eyes widen, taking in the plush furnishings, the massive bed, and the view of the city below.

“This is... wow,” she breathes, turning to me with a grin.

I call down for room service, ordering us food and a bottle of champagne. The second I hang up, I turn to her, watching as she kicks off her shoes and climbs onto the bed. My eyes rake over her, every inch of her perfect body driving me wild with want.

“Before you get too comfortable, I’ve got something for you,” I say, pulling out one of my t-shirts from my bag, the one with my logo across the chest. I hold it out to her, my voice dropping low. “I want you to wear this... and only this.”

She bites her lip, her eyes flicking between the shirt and me. Slowly, she stands, her fingers moving to the buttons of her shirt. Piece by piece, she strips away her clothing, and I can’t take my eyes off her. Each inch of exposed skin sends a jolt of electricity through me, my cock growing painfully hard as I watch her.

When she’s finally standing naked in front of me, I can’t hold back the groan that escapes my throat. She’s fucking perfect. Every curve, every soft line of her body is like a dream come to life. My fists clench at my sides, fighting the urge to throw her on the bed and devour her right then and there.

She slips the t-shirt over her head, the fabric falling over her breasts, down to her mid-thigh. And fuck, the sight of her inmyshirt, wearingmyname, sends me over the fucking edge.

I lose all control.

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