Page 114 of Anything for You
“Emma! I haven’t seen you around in a while.” His voice is deep and raspy and pure Pittsburgh.
Emma smiles and walks over to hug him. “Hey, Paulie, I’ve had a lot going on lately.”
“No problem, girlie; I’m just happy to see you. And who have you brought me?”
Emma turns to me with an inviting look, and I walk over to them.
“Jeremy Wright,” I say, reaching out to shake his hand.
He gives me an appraising look. “I know who you are. I’ve been a Pittsburgh hockey fan my whole life. But who are you to our Emma?”
Something about the way this guy looks at me makes me want to spill all my secrets. “I don’t know what I am to her, but she’s my everything.”
Emma’s eyes go soft, but she shrugs nonchalantly. “I guess he’s okay too.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Just okay? I think I’m better than just okay, Pretty Girl.”
She smirks at me while Paulie lets out a loud guffaw, giving Emma’s shoulders a squeeze. “I was wondering when Emma might meet her match. Looks like she finally did.”
“You bet she did,” I say in a voice a little more growly than is probably appropriate for anyone who isn’t Emma.
“Thought I would show Jeremy how a real boxer does it. Is it okay if I use the ring for an hour or two?”
“Anything for you, Em. I have to run out for a while—plumbing issue at one of the other gyms. You know the drill. Just flip the lock on the handle if you leave before I’m back.”
“You got it. Thanks, Paulie.”
“Anytime. Hey, nice meeting you, Jeremy. Don’t be a stranger.” He saunters out the front door, leaving us alone.
“He lets you use the gym when he’s not here?”
Emma shrugs, looking around. “He trusts me. I’ve known him for a long time. I helped his daughter study for her LSATs years ago and then called a partner I knew from my old firm when she was looking for a summer associate position.”
I snake an arm around Emma’s waist, pulling her flush against me then dipping my head to kiss her. It’s quick, but then she curls her hands into my shirt and tugs me down, giving me a longer, slower kiss that has my heart rolling in my chest.
“So,” she says a little breathlessly. “Want to box?”
Thethwackof Emma’s gloves as they hit the heavy bag reverberates around the gym. We’re in one of the rings, each of us in front of a bag. Emma likes these bags the best because she said it makes her feel badass to hit the bag when she’s standing in the ring.
I have gloves on my hands too, and I’ve been making a half-hearted attempt to hit, but my focus keeps straying to Emma. To the way her feet move on the padded canvas of the ring. To the way her abs clench and move every time she throws a punch. To the swell of her tits in the sports bra she’s wearing since she stripped off her T-shirt when we walked into the ring. To her pink gloves that are just a blur of motion with how fast they move. To her toned arms, and the trickles of sweat down her neck and chest and the swing of her ponytail and the focused, determined look on her face as she goes through her routine.
I thought I was hard before when she called megood boyin the park. It turns out, I didn’t know what hard was.
Competence has always been a particular turn-on of mine. But when competence is mixed with athleticism? I’m gone. It’s the athlete in me. Watching Emma hit the bag with strength and ferocity has me vibrating with need, the beast inside of me clanging at his cage, trying to break free.
Emma takes a break from her routine and glances over at me, chest heaving from exertion. She starts to say something, but whatever she sees in my face has the words dying on her tongue, the smile on her face freezing. For a long minute we stare at each other, the air around us heavy and charged. Electric. Anticipatory.
My heart thunders in my ears, and I wonder which one of us is going to make the first move. Then Emma smirks at me. Fucking smirks and crosses her arms over her chest and raises one eyebrow as if to saycome and get me.
The beast breaks his cage.
I toss my gloves to the floor and stalk over to Emma, grabbing her around the waist and yanking her flush against my body. I slam my mouth against that smirk in a kiss that is all teeth and tongues and fucking filth. Emma gasps into my mouth and without breaking the kiss, hops up and wraps her legs around my waist, shaking off her gloves so she can tangle her hands in my hair and take the kiss deeper.
Walking over to the side of the ring, I press Emma into the ropes, breaking the kiss to kiss and lick my way down her jaw and neck, the taste of sweat from her workout only making my dick harder, my need rise higher. When I seal my mouth around her pulse and suck, Emma whimpers, head falling back and hips grinding against my erection. I grind right back, shoving my hips into hers, my eyes practically rolling back into my head at thefeel of my dick sliding along her hot, wet center, even with layers of clothing between us.
“Fuck, Jeremy, you feel so good,” Emma moans out.
I lick a bead of sweat dripping down into the dip of her collarbone, and my cock jumps at the taste of her. I want to lick every inch of her body.
