Page 46 of Keep Your Guard Up
I wrapped my clammy hand in his.
JJ’s hand piled on top, squeezing our fingers. “Woooo! You’re stuck with us now, Chancey boy!” JJ hollered, breaking all of our hands when he pulled Chance into what could only be described as a bone-crushing hug.
Chance stared straight into my eyes over JJ’s shoulder. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
Chapter 23
Chance
“So, you’re telling me that you’re now part-owner of one of, if not the most, influential MMA gyms currently standing in the world?” my brother asked.
“Yeah, man.”
And I drained nearly everything from that handy little secret bank account.
I yawned, stepping off the curb to cross the road into the driveway of the gym.
It had been over a week since I’d thrown Jayden out of Knock’s, and he was yet to test my threat. JJ had done some sleuthing and found out when Rat was planning to come and get his things. So when he’d come to collect his gear a few days later,I’d madesureI was conveniently sorting through paperwork and study tape at the time.
The coward hadn’t even looked in her direction.
Good.
“I’m assuming the owner came around to you and your charm then?”
I sighed.
It had also been just over a week since Mari and I had slept together. A week of her avoiding me—
Okay, maybe we are avoiding each other.
Switching and swerving in every over-the-top fucking way. A week of awkwardness and tension that had been all too graciously pointed out by JJ in quiet moments. A week ofmysubconscious putting on a goddamn show about her almost every night.
“You could say that,” I replied.
Every night was like a new memory surfacing from that drunken night we’d shared.
I pressed my lips into the slope where her neck met her shoulder, lightly running my tongue over the taste of her skin. A moan slipped from her, a fucking delightful sound.
Every muscle in my body was rigid with anticipation, but I’d never felt more relaxed. My fingers skimmed the red thong, a patch of moisture visible right above where I knew her tender slickness was waiting for me. Pain flickered in the back of my jaw under my teeth, desire for the woman below me bursting to the point of agony. I relished in it, in her. Using my teeth to sooth that ache, I bit down on her thong and dragged it lower, lower, lower.
Hard to the point of self-combustion, I decided I would happily die in this moment. The taste of her—her own personal flavour of salty peaches—was blinding. One lick of her, one flick of my tongue on her soft, wet clit, and I knew I would nevertaste anything better than this. The vibration of her moans rattled through my tongue as I swirled and curled it around her tight, dripping hole.
Her lips parted in a pant as she lowered herself down onto my cock. I gritted my teeth. So fucking tight. So fucking wet. So fucking perfect. Her small hands splayed on my chest as she levered up and down.
“You look so fucking good riding me, dripping all over me,” I groaned. “Fuck, Sunny, you’re soaked.”
“Y-you … fuck.” She gushed all over me, picking up her pace. The breath whooshed out of me in a frantic pant. Her pussy … fuck, she felt likehome. This was light. This was warmth. This was fucking life in its most extraordinary form.
I was drowning in her. Constantly. She was everywhere.
Fucking inconvenient.
How was I meant to think about anything, anything at all, when I had memories as good asthatrattling around in my brain?
“She still giving you a hard time, bro?” Dylan asked, the phone connection going fuzzy for a second.
“Nah, she’s fine. Just got some things to think over in the next few days, and my brother decides to call me at half-past four in the morning when I’m on my way to work,” I grumble. Between working, training, and waking up multiple times from dreams of a certain curly-haired brunette, I felt like my fucking wheels were falling off.
