Fighting to Forget (5 page)

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Authors: Jenika Snow

BOOK: Fighting to Forget
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“Okay, well thank you for the ride—”

“I don’t know why I want to help you, because frankly we don’t know each other. But I do want to help you, Tasha.”

She looked at him then.

“I see you looking at me, watching me at the gym, and I’m curious as to why.”

She licked her lips, but didn’t respond. “I don’t mean to stare. I’m sorry.”

She seemed weaker right now, vulnerable and innocent.

“Tell me why you were at the fight tonight. Why you went there by yourself knowing that it had to be dangerous.” He waited for her to respond, wanted her to tell him the truth. But how would he feel when she told him? How would he react when she told him that she’d come there to see him, which in his gut he knew was the case? And how would he feel when he let himself feel something besides self-hatred, when he allowed himself to actually … care about someone again?

Chapter Seven

 

Tasha sat in the darkened cab of Larson’s truck, smelling the aroma of the clean sweat and masculinity that poured from him. He wore a pair of loose fitting workout pants and a white t-shirt. He watched her, the shadows wrapping around him and making him seem slightly menacing. Licking her lips, feeling the delicate skin parched and dry, she didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to actually answer honestly. What would he say if she admitted that she watched him because she was fascinated, because she wanted to know what his story was? What would he say if she admitted she’d come to the fight to see him solely, because she’d heard the other fighters at the gym talking about where it was being held? Even hearing that in her head made her feel like a creep. But she wanted to be honest, too.

“I overheard the guys at the gym talking about it¸ and that you were going to be there tonight. I wanted to see you fight.” She didn’t look away, although his gaze was penetrating and made her feel bare.

“And why would you want to see me fight?” he asked with this hardness to his voice, but it was a steeliness that was just him, and not anger directed at her.

“I don’t know.” That was the truth, to a point. “I mean I know, but I don’t, if that even makes sense.” She did look away then, stared at her hands in her lap, and didn’t know why she felt so nervous around him.

“You know how dangerous it was to go there alone.”

“Yeah, I know, but what can I say? I wanted to see you.” She looked at him then. “I don’t want to seem like some kind of weirdo, but there is something in you that I feel is the same with me.”

He looked away, and she saw the way he tightened his hands on the steering wheel. “You and I are nothing alike¸ Tasha.”

She couldn’t respond. Her throat tightened, clenched at his tone. It was like he was reprimanding her, and she felt like a child. Tightening her hand on the strap of her purse, she pushed the door open. Maybe this had been a bad idea? “Thank you again, Larson. I can find my own way home, and I’ll have the tow truck get my car tomorrow.” She smiled even though he didn’t look at her.

Climbing out of the car when he didn’t respond to anything she said, she felt foolish, even more so than before. Why did she think going to see him and telling him anything had been a good idea? What had she expected from him? Did Tasha actually think he’d tell her he wanted something with her, felt something for her as well?

You’re a damn idiot.

Not looking back, but
feeling
his gaze on her, she entered the bakery and made her way toward the counter for a cup of coffee. She’d get over this, put Larson and everything she felt, or at least thought she felt for him, behind her. That was smart, even if it didn’t feel right.

****

Larson felt like an ass, and it seemed when it concerned Tasha he felt like that more times than not. They hadn’t addressed the whole park situation, but he’d prefer not to. The point was he had thought it best if he just acted indifferent, stayed away from her, and, he hoped, let her know without actually saying anything that he wasn’t for her. He knew she was interested in him in some form, had seen it countless times while with a woman for a night, or listening to the Chasers try to get him to take them home.

But despite the fact he knew Tasha wanted him, she didn’t come right out and say so, didn’t thrust herself at him. He liked that about her, liked that she was reserved, quiet, and shy even. She had strength though, and although she kept to herself and seemed very vulnerable, she had taken the initiative and spoken to him at the park and come to see his fight. But he didn’t like that she hadn’t used her head either, and come to that fucking shit warehouse.

Tightening and releasing his hands on the steering wheel, he wanted her, wanted to be with her, and that scared him. It scared the shit out of him in fact. He started the engine, about to go to the gym, or maybe for a run in the park, needing to get out of here, away from her, and put everything that had to do with Tasha out of his mind. But even with his truck idling, the engine purring, and his need and common sense telling him leaving her at the coffee shop was the best for her, he ended up cutting the engine.

“Fuck,” he cursed low, watching her as she went up to the counter and ordered something, and he found himself getting out of the truck before he even knew what he was doing.

He went into the bakery, walked right up to her, and when he reached out and touched her shoulder, this spark of electricity moved through him. She turned around, the stunned expression on her face tangible, and all he wanted to do in that moment was pull her in close and kiss her senseless.

“What are you doing?” she asked softly. She looked behind her at the cashier that had been about to take her order, then turned and faced him again.

“Listen, I push people away, have for the last ten years.” He breathed out after he admitted that. He’d never said that to anyone, despite the fact it was clear in the way he acted. “I just don’t see myself as being good for a woman, and as much as I want you, and yes, Tasha, I want you, I don’t want to fuck you up with my issues.”

She was silent for a moment. “You want me?” she asked, and although they were standing in this bakery, it being the middle of the night, and the young kid behind the counter watching them, Larson didn’t care. All he cared about was trying not to hold himself back from the first thing that felt real in a long time.

“Yeah, Tasha, I do, and I want to get to know you, for you to get to know me, even if it’s not the best for you.”

She smiled. “I’d like that.

“But I don’t think you’ll like what you see once you know the real me.”

Her smile faded, but he wasn’t going to sugarcoat any of this, wasn’t going to pretend like he wasn’t damaged, that he didn’t have baggage, and if they really started this … whatever this was, that things might not be flowers and walks on the beach.

“You don’t know what I’ll think or feel, Larson, but I am glad you want to try … something.” She looked away. “I don’t know what all of this means, but I do know that I don’t want to just forget about you.” When she looked at him again there was that vulnerability on her face that he’d seen so many times. “I’m not perfect either, and I’d like to be able to share myself with you, all aspects.” Her cheeks heated as she stated that last part.

He reached out and held her cheek in his hand, feeling the hotness because she blushed. He should have told her he wouldn’t take her home, that it wasn’t right, they didn’t know each other, and because he knew his past would come back and ruin whatever he wanted with this young woman.

But Larson didn’t say anything to her, didn’t deny that he needed to, that she was the first woman to actually make him feel something besides this hatred inside of himself. He took her hand and led her out of the bakery, and helped her into his truck. Once they were both in the vehicle he breathed in and out a moment, contemplating what he was doing.

“We don’t even know each other, Tasha,” he said as he stared straight ahead.

“I know,” was all she said. She reached out, took his hand in hers, and he turned to face her. “But I’d like to get to know you. I can’t honestly say why I feel this strong connection to you, but it’s there, and it won’t go away.” She smoothed her hand over his. “I don’t want it to go away.”

They stared at each other, the heat surrounding them, the electricity moving through him. Fuck, he could feel her, sense her, and he wanted her like he’d never wanted another woman since all that shit happened with Melanie. Even though it had been a long time ago, and even though he remembered what he’d shared with his wife, what he felt for Tasha was different.

He’d never felt the kind of arousal, the kind of attraction for anyone … ever. This was different from what he had with his former wife, and that was nice. He liked that he could feel this with Tasha, that she looked up at him with desire and acceptance. She may not know what his past was like, but he didn’t know what hers was like either. She could have had something happen to her, could be traumatized, and maybe that was why they both felt this connection to each other.

“Larson…” She said his name softly, and his whole body lit up with the sound of it coming from her lips.

“Yeah, Tasha?” He wanted to call her baby, wanted her to come home with him, to be with him and ease this intense need he had for her. It had been building, growing inside of him, and he needed to get it out. But he didn’t wait for her to tell him what she wanted. He leaned in, grabbed her behind the neck, and pulled her forward. She made this small gasping noise, and then he had his lips on hers, kissing her like he’d never kissed a woman, and felt this completion fill him. It felt right to have her like this, to finally ignore his darker, pathetic side and just take what he wanted because she wanted it, too.

He kissed her, licked at her lips, and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth before releasing it and licking the erotically abused area. His cock was hard, throbbing behind his zipper, and he knew that he couldn’t stop this. He didn’t want to.

“Take me to your place, Larson,” she said softly against his lips.

His heart thundered, and his mind waged war with what he really wanted.

This isn’t right. You’ll ruin her, ruin what you want with her. You can’t even control yourself or the emotions you have. How can you be good to her, be good to any woman?

But Larson didn’t stop, didn’t turn away. Instead he felt himself move closer to her. “You sure?” He didn’t want to ask that question, because the truth was he just wanted to take her to his room and fuck her until they both were too exhausted to even move.

She pulled back an inch, looked up at him, and he swore he held his breath. She licked her lips, those lush, thick and full lips that he’d just been kissing, sucking at, and wanted more of.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Larson.”

And that was all he needed to hear. He pulled back from her, but then thought better and leaned in and kissed her again. He was going to devour her, and he wouldn’t stop until both of them couldn’t take anymore.

Chapter Eight

 

He led them inside, and although she knew this wasn’t the smart thing to do because her body was on fire just being in his presence, she also wasn’t going to stop it. This was moving so fast all of a sudden, and the chemistry and electricity bouncing between them were intense and consuming. He shut the door once she was inside, and she looked around. The house was small, kind of bare of any kind of décor, and it smelled like Larson, spicy and masculine.

“You want a drink?” he asked with his deep, hard voice.

She nodded. Yeah, she needed a drink, because she knew why she was here, knew that she had agreed to come to his house—hell, asked him to come to his place—because she wanted more from him.

When he came back with two square glasses partially filled with what she assumed was whiskey, she didn’t hesitate to drink it all in one swallow. She gasped, breathed out as fire traveled right down her throat and filled her. He lifted an eyebrow, took the glass from her, and finished off his own. When he set the glasses on the coffee table they stared at each other for a moment, neither speaking, neither seeming to breathe. And then he erased the space separating them, pressed his chest right up against hers, and the air left her in a rush.

God, he was just so big, and even though that was obvious at first glance, actually feeling him right up against her, making her feel so small and feminine, really cemented the fact that Larson Ireland was a powerful man in all respects. He lifted his hands slowly, grabbed her waist, and moved her backward until she finally felt the door stop her.

“I’m not a good man,” he said slowly, almost void of emotion.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” she responded, then looked down to see the scar on his neck that disappeared beneath his shirt.

“No, I’m not.”

She lifted her gaze to his again, saw that he was being serious, but right now she didn’t want to talk about this. “Just be with me. The other things can wait, Larson.”

He didn’t move, didn’t respond, but then leaned down and kissed her again. He placed his hands on the door right beside her head. He pressed his erection into her belly, and Tasha shamelessly moaned at the feeling. It felt like he was hiding a steel pipe between his legs: long and thick, and so damn big. A gush of wetness slipped out of her, and she shifted on her feet, needing to appease this arousal in her that had been growing since she’d seen Larson.

His mouth was so close to hers, taking control and showing dominance. He lowered his mouth to her cheek, then lower to her neck. Larson dragged his lips up and down her throat, sucked at her pulse, and moved his teeth along her flesh until there was a sting of pain and pleasure. Not able to hold her eyes open at the feeling, she let her head fall back against the door.

He ground his dick into her again, over and over until she found herself reaching up and holding onto his biceps for support. He was rock hard and tense beneath her palms, and she slid her hands over the bulging definition of his arms, and up to his shoulders.

“God, Larson, is this really happening? Are we really doing this?” Tasha hadn’t meant to say anything, but the words tumbled out of her of their own accord.

He didn’t answer her, but that was okay because she was lost in the sensations. She felt his lips move along the shell of her ear, and a shiver worked through her whole body. He groaned and pressed his entire length against her, harder, more demanding. There was no place on her body that Larson wasn’t touching.

He pulled away only enough that he had his mouth close to hers once more. “I don’t know what we’re doing, but I do know I’m not about to stop.” He lowered his gaze until he was staring at her lips.

“Then let’s not stop,” she whispered.

He inhaled deeply, and then his mouth was on hers. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip, and then did the same to her top. She could hear him dig his nails into the wooden frame of the door, like some kind of crazed animal unable to control himself. But God, Tasha wanted this, wanted it rough, raw, and without any boundaries.

She opened her mouth, took his tongue between her lips, and sucked on it. He tasted spicy, yet sweet from the whiskey. Tasha wasn’t going to go slow or act timid. She wanted it fast and hard, and right now.

****

Larson was harder than he’d ever been. His cock throbbed, and all he wanted to do was rip her fucking clothes away, feel the wetness of her pussy, and get lost in the mindless pleasure he knew could be had with her. Larson felt alive holding Tasha, felt warm and good, and not empty and dark like he had with the previous women he’d been with sexually over the last decade.

A groan left him at the image of her on his bed, naked, willing, and ready. The only thing that mattered right now was this woman giving herself to him, the right and warm emotions she made him feel. He wasn’t about to fucking let that go.

He didn’t break their kiss as he reached between their bodies with one hand, all but tore the capris and panties off, and groaned when she kicked them aside. She was hot and sweet, and surrendering herself to him like no other.

When she put her hands on his chest and pushed him away, taking a step back was a really hard thing to do. But she wasn’t stopping this; he could see that on her face. Instead she tore off her shirt and bra, and there she stood, naked, her nipples hard, and her thighs glistening from her arousal.

He swallowed hard and moved his hand down to rub his palm over his erection. The damn thing was liable to explode right through his pants if he didn’t add a little bit of pressure to the bastard. He could have got off from looking at her alone. He heard the soft noise that came from her, and like a good girl she stepped closer to him.

As he took in her body, every damn glorious inch of her, possessive need slammed into him. She was nice and thick, with thighs that looked like they had the strength to hold onto him when he plowed in and out of her pussy. She had a small amount of trimmed darker hair covering her mound, but not enough that he couldn’t see her smooth, wet lips. She was womanly with a belly that was nice and round, and hips that were wide enough that he could wraps his hands around while she rode his cock. Her tits ... God, her tits were a work of art.

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw and couldn’t tear his eyes from them. They were big and round, and way more than a fucking handful. Her nipples were hard, and his mouth watered for a taste. Larson didn’t want to restrain himself from sampling Tasha.

He took hold of her shoulders and pulled her closer. Her lips were swollen and red from their kiss, and a surge of proprietary need slammed into him knowing he made them look like that. He took her mouth in a brutal kiss at the same time he used his body to move her back until she was pressed against the door again. Moving one of his hands behind her, down her back, and over the generous mounds of her ass, he groaned against her mouth and squeezed one globe.

“Your ass, God, your ass, Tasha.” He panted against her and squeezed her bottom again, and again, and on the third time he loosened his hold. “It’s so fucking perfect.”

“Just be with me already, Larson.” Her eyes were closed, and her voice was soft and sounded drug-like.

He moved back enough that he could get rid of his pants, reached behind his back and grabbed his shirt, and pulled the material up and over his head. Then he stood there, just as naked as she was, and his cock so fucking hard he could have drilled holes through steel.

Making his way back toward her in three quick steps, he used his other hand and gripped her behind one knee. Larson brought her leg up to wrap it around his waist. He reached between their bodies, took hold of his cock, and started rubbing the head of his dick along her pussy, spreading her lips with the bulbous crown, and just wanting to shove deep inside of her. This was so fucking filthy to do to her, but he couldn’t stop, not when he needed her so badly.

She opened her eyes and licked her lips. “Let’s forget about everything aside from right now, Larson.”

“I want to be inside of you, baby,” he breathed out roughly.

“Then be inside of me.”

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers.

“I want you, Tasha. I’ve never wanted a woman like this, never needed one this badly.”

“Then be with me, Larson, because I feel the same way for you.” And then she was the one taking his mouth in a bruising kiss. He reached under her ass with his arm and lifted her easily off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and the movement caused her pussy to align perfectly with the head of his erection. But he needed to play this safe, because not using protection, even if he wanted to go raw inside of her, would be a dumb fucking move.

She dug her heels into him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Larson moved them out of the foyer and into his bedroom. Once he had her on the ground he quickly went over to his bedside table, pulled it open to grab a condom, and slid it on. Then he was back to her, had her lifted up again, and turned so he could brace her back against the wall by the door.

In a great surge Larson pushed his cock into her, but had to force himself to go slow at the tight feel. She was wet, soaking even, but fuck was she squeezing him in an iron-like grip.

“You’re so big,” she moaned against his mouth. “You’re stretching me so good, Larson. God, it feels so good.”

Yeah, it bordered on the painful side to him, too, but dammit, it felt incredible. He moved slower into her, felt her inner muscles milking him, and cursed. “Christ, Tasha.” He didn’t want to hurt her, but at this rate he’d come before he was fully inside of her.

Holding her tight, and keeping his dick buried deep inside of her, he pulled her away from the wall. He wanted her under him and on his bed. There were no lights on, but his curtains were open and the moon’s light came through. Seconds later he had her in the center of his bed and pushed another inch into her. Larson leaned back, took hold of her legs, and pushed them as wide as they could go. He was used to taking control in the bedroom, used to not giving a fuck about the women he slept with because they didn’t mean anything to him. But Tasha was different, and he couldn’t quite place why she meant anything to him.

He didn’t mean that in a bastard-like way, just in a way that confused him. He didn’t know her aside from her name and the fact she worked at Harlond’s. He didn’t know her background, her likes and dislikes, or even if she had family. She was young, only twenty-three, and compared to him she had to be so damn inexperienced in life.

She braced her feet flat on the bed and gripped the comforter beneath her. Larson put his thoughts aside and looked between her thighs. He was riveted to the sight of her pussy stretched wide around his length. Her cunt was red from the blood flow of her arousal, and so wet her inner thighs were glossy from her cream.

Her eyes were barely open when he lifted his gaze and looked at her face, and her chest rose and fell violently, her breasts shaking from the force of it. Curling his fingers into the soft skin of her thighs, he thrust the rest of his dick into her until his balls slapped against her ass and she’d taken every fucking inch of him. He gave her a moment to grow accustomed to his size, and then started to slowly pump in and out of her. He worked his cock into her, making her take all of him.

Her clit was swollen and just begging for attention. He placed his thumb on the hard little nub, rubbing it back and forth until she writhed on the bed. Soon the sloppy sound of her wet pussy sucking at his cock filled the room, and the smell of their sex slammed into his nose. Damn, he was close to coming, so close, but he was holding himself back.

“Come on, baby. Come for me.”

She arched her head back, and her mouth opened on a silent cry as she did just that. The rhythmic pull of her inner muscles milking his dick would have sent him over the edge, but Larson didn’t want it to end just yet. This wasn’t going to stop until he’d tasted her, licked her cream clean, and showed her that her pleasure was greater even than his.

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