Page 97 of Falcon

“You’re going to stay right with Courtney, okay?” I lean down to whisper in Faith’s ear. “You’ll be right off to the side of the stage. You won’t be in the main area with all the press.”

She nods. “Okay.” She rubs her hands together like she’s a bundle of nerves. It’s endearing actually, and it makes me want to scoop her up and kiss the fuck out of her.

“You look beautiful tonight,” I tell her, and she gives me that smile I’ve come to crave.

“Thank you.”

She chose to wear a pair of tight skinny jeans and these red boot things, I think she called them booties, and a black sleeveless top that fastens around her neck, showing off the sexy expanse of her back.

“Falcon, two minutes,” Joe tells me from the doorway.

“I’ll be right there. Courtney waiting for Faith?” I ask him.

“She’s down just where you asked her to be. She’s waiting.”

“Perfect. Thanks, man. See you in a few.”

With that, Joe leaves us once again in the small green room the venue has provided for us.

“Okay, so this is a weigh-in. What exactly does this mean?” she asks.

“It means myself and Wyrez will meet with the press, take some questions. Then we’ll formally weigh-in to make sure we are fairly within the weight class to fight one another, then we’ll face off for photos.”

“Got it.”

“So there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

“I know, I just don’t like crowds, Falcon. They make me anxious, but I’ll be all right as long as I’m with Courtney.”

“If you’re ever uncomfortable, just let Courtney know and she’ll have Joe come take you back the room. We have a dinner after this, but if you want to skip that, we will. They are boring as hell anyway.”

“I don’t want to make you change your work stuff. I’ll be okay. I promise.”

I nod and kiss her head before standing. “It’s time to go. Come on, I’ll walk you to Courtney.”

***

The cameras flash wildly when I step onto the small stage with Joe just behind me. I make my way to the front, where the scale is located and strip down to my fighting shorts to an array of hoots and hollers. All of which I smirk and wink in response to. That is the Falcon way, after all.

Stepping onto the scale, I’m formally weighed-in at my intended weight, exactly what I wanted for this fight and exactly what I trained for.

My opponent, Jose Wyrez, comes onto the stage and steps on the scale as well, but I’m hardly paying attention.

I can’t take my eyes off Faith, who is standing just to stage left. There’s a beautiful smile on her face, her lips are painted a deep, blood red color that I can’t help but imagine sliding my cock between.

As a matter-of-fact, I’m going to do just that later. I’m going to tangle my hands in that silky hair of hers and guide her head up and down on my cock until she—

“Falcon, let’s go, bud,” Joe says, pulling me from my fantasy and telling me it’s time for the face-off. I give Faith a final look and she is biting that plump bottom lip. Maybe she can read my mind.

I wink and my cheeks move up in a grin before I turn and head to the middle of the stage.

This is my favorite part.

This is where the stories come from, where the antagonizing and shit talking comes in.

Wyrez and I stop when we are nose-to-nose and our hands come up into a fighting stance while everyone snaps pictures.

Wyrez isn’t a shit talker. He’s all business, like me. No bullshit. He just likes to fight, and that, I respect.

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