Page 109 of Falcon

Falcon takes this as his chance to take the power position on top of him and land blow after blow to his head. Then body. Head. Body. Head. Body.

The ref gets onto his hands and knees beside the two men and finally taps Falcon on the shoulder, calling the fight.

The crowd erupts in a roar of cheers and he releases his opponent and throws his arms into the air, cheering right along with them.

He peacocks around the Octagon, soaking in the moment, and I’d be lying if I said the sight wasn’t the most incredible turn-on of my entire life.

Seeing him up there, so alpha, so sweaty, and arrogant, it makes wetness pool in between my thighs. I want nothing more than to march into that cage and take him right there for everyone to see. I want to stake my claim on him.

I feel a rush an Alpha Female, Amazonian, Wonder Woman energy coursing through my veins as I watch the media descend upon him, asking questions and snapping photos.

He takes it all in stride, giving them everything they need, and any photo they want. I wish I could hear what he was saying. I wish I could hear the laugh that is undoubtedly echoing from his lips when his tosses his head back at something a reporter asks him.

I’m lost in the moment, lost in watching him when I get shoved as someone tries to move past me.

“Jesus, zoning out much? Pay attention. I have a winner to go congratulate, if you know what I mean.” Jennifer smiles as she moves around me.

I don’t say a thing, ignoring her just as Joe asked me to do, and watch as she heads back up the stairs toward the main level of the arena.

I am gathering my things and go to pull out my cell because I’m not sure where I’m supposed to be going now, when a deep voice says my name from the arena floor, “Faith?”

I look down to see the same man who brought me down to my seat.

“Hi!” I say, shoving my cell back into my pocket.

“Mr. Falcon asked that I come get you and bring you back to him.”

I bite my lip and try to hide my obvious excitement. Get a grip, Faith. You are here with him. Obviously, he wants to see you.

I wonder what Jennifer will think about this when she gets to him, and I’m already there. My inner Mean Girl is fist pumping.

I step down onto the floor and follow Frank through the crowd of people zigzagging all around.

Falcon is no longer in the Octagon, so I’m assuming he’s already been escorted to the back.

We make our way down the walkway that the fighters made their entrances on and slip around the seats and enter into a hallway of sorts.

“Falcon’s room is the third on the right,” he tells me, but doesn’t leave me to walk alone. He’s just communicating so I know.

Security stops us briefly, verifying my badge then let’s us through.

His door is open when we arrive, and I see him in all his glory, still dressed in his shorts and sans shirt.

But his hands are free from gloves and tape.

“Delivery for you, Boss,” Frank says, and Falcon turns to see my face.

“There she is,” he says, with a tone that makes my skin tingle and melt off my bones.

“Here I am.”

I know the moment Frank leaves us alone because Falcon and I both react simultaneously, colliding with one another in a fit of hormones and adrenaline.

We are all hands, tongues, scrambling feet, and need.

He reaches around me to shove the door closed, but doesn’t bother locking it.

“If it’s important, they’ll knock, and then they can fucking wait,” he growls against my lips. “You look so fucking hot in my colors.”

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