Love Tap (22 page)

Opening my eyes I find Camden staring back at me with primal desires.

“I won’t be the girl you cheat with, or the girl on the side,” I whisper. My heart aches to say it, and my head screams at me to shut up and look the other way.

His tongue sweeps his bottom lip as he looks at at me deeply.

“Those fuck buddies on my phone, and that girl that just walked in here… they’re Band-Aids. When I couldn’t get you out of my mind with whiskey and Coke, I went to women. Hoping having someone to lay next to would help forget you.”

He thumbs my bottom lip, the heat from his hand traveling through my body from the contact. Hearing he had it just as rough as I did when everything fell at our feet makes me want to weep. I lay in bed for days hoping to fall asleep before I fell apart.

“None of it worked though, because they’re not you,” he whispers.

Camden

Her fuckable lips scream for me to devour them again. One hand in her hair and one on the nape of her neck I’m ready to rip her clothes off and see the beauty of her bare body before me. Looking in-between us I stare at her tits, I have a thing for tits.

Gritting my teeth I pull her top down, her breasts bouncing out. Leaning down I nip at the red bud, and her body arches into mine. Hate and sexual tension race through my veins, as my heart longs for her. I both hate and love her.

How the hell is that possible?

My cock presses into my jockstrap painfully, and I can’t for the life of me wait another second to be inside of Tate.

Letting go of her nipple, I trail my nose up the curve of her body until my lips reach her earlobe.

“Get on your fucking knees,” I seethe.

Not giving her a chance to respond, I shove her onto all fours, and I position myself right behind her. An unintelligible squeak leaves her lips and it’s my undoing. Using both of my hands I hook my fingers into the waistband of her pants and slip them off her delectable ass harshly. Purple panties greet me, the rounds of her ass peeking out. Letting her shorts flutter to her knees I slide my hands up her smooth thighs.

Growling I fist the panties in one hand the material bunching in the crack of her ass like a thong. All these females I’ve slept with over the years are little girls compared to Tate. None of them can deliver what I need, an urge Tate ignited in me when I was sixteen years old, a passion that only Tate can fulfill. If only she knew she was as rare as her love.

“Spread your legs for me,” I demand huskily. She does as I say, and parts her knees further apart. I pull on the fabric of her panties, and it slips in-between her pussy lips.

“I’m going to hate fuck you, Tate,” I warn her.

Taking my eyes off her body I look at her, finding heavy eyes looking back. She doesn’t tell me to stop, she doesn’t even look concerned. It fuels my desire to drive my dick into her without remorse.

Using my other hand I fist her ponytail and jerk as hard as I can, gritting my teeth.

“One thing about MMA fighters,” I pant. “We don’t do anything soft, do we?”

Tate

The hairs on my head snap, and the pain rushes down my back targeting right between my legs. He tugs on my panties again, the fabric rubbing against my clit just right I can’t help but hiss through my teeth it feels so good. I’m so wet and ready my body is vibrating with the arousal.

His grip on my hair so strong my neck strains backward until my eyes lock on his. I watch as he unties his shorts, letting them pool around his feet, his hold on my hair still strong. The white cup to protect himself is busting at the seams as his length presses against it. Pulling on the straps he tugs it down, and his massive length stands at attention. It had to have grown at least two inches since I last saw it.

He pulls my panties to the side instead of pulling them down, and thrusts a single thick finger through my wetness.

The head of his cock presses against my opening and I tense, preparing for the fucking of my life. On a quick inhale his cock barrels through my opening with force.

His size stretches me, a burning sensation mixed with pleasure swirling into one confused moan erupting through me. He fills me fully before pulling out and thrusting forward so hard I face plant into the mat. The games, the buildup, and pure tension have led to this. It won’t be delicate, and it won’t be sensual. This is a reunion of two lovers who are ending a long lasting fight the only way they know how. Rough sex.

His fingers dig into my ass cheeks as he uses them to push and pull me into his thrusts.

My ass fits into his hips perfectly. The gym filled with nothing but the sound of our sweaty bodies smacking into each other and our heavy panting.

Pulling myself onto my knees, I reach above me with both hands, one hand pulling his hair, the other scratching any skin my nails can make contact with.

He pulls back slowly and pushes forward with long deliberate strokes. My insides clench him fiercely. My arms shake, my knees tremble, and I moan as an orgasm rips through me so hard I can barely hear the growl tearing from Camden’s mouth as he comes with me. We still, trying to catch our breath.

Looking over my shoulder Camden slips out of me with ease and droplets of him drip down my thigh. Reaching behind me I situate my panties back to where they belong, and pull my pants up over my behind.

Looking at Camden he’s dressing too, his mouth parted sexily as he eyes me with hooded eyes.

“You know, I went to LA looking for you.”

My eyes cut to his, my breath hitching in my throat. “What?”

He stands tall, his hands on his hips as he breathes heavily.

“Yeah, when I got there and saw you sitting in class… I knew then that you deserved much more than I could ever give you.” Guilt washes over me and I avert my eyes.

I could tell him the same thing I’ve already told him, that I left and didn’t reply back to his texts because I didn’t want to drag him down, but no matter the way you look at it… I left him behind.
“I’m really sorry Camden,” I whisper.

Looking at me his eyes darken with something unfamiliar before he looks away.

“Every day I tortured myself, wondering who you were with and if you were doing things that I taught you with other men.” He gives me a sideways glance, his lips pursed. Camden always led the way when we were younger, telling me where to position my hips, and how to move my body. He swore it was because he watched a lot of porn, but either way, he knew what he was doing in the sheets. We both like it rough, and Camden delivered the most kinky of things.

I know he’s been with other women, and I’m sure his skillset has only improved. Jealously rears its ugly head, making me grit my teeth and turn away.

“Like you haven’t been with other women?” My vision spots with acts of jealousy.

“Not like I do with you.”

I swallow hard, knowing exactly what he means. Camden and I are different kind of breed. We find satisfaction in pain both in the bedroom, and the ring.

He strides to me; his steps confident as he grips me by the chin with a force that has me suck in a tight breath. “I’m not saying I forgive you, but it’ll be a cold day in hell before I let you leave me again.”

I blink rapidly, and he kisses me hard. His tongue fucks my mouth in a similar rhythm his hips were mimicking earlier. Closing my eyes I take it all in. The hard grip on the back of my neck, his nose smashed against mine. It’s angry and possessive.

Pulling away from me abruptly, I sway on my feet trying to catch my balance. The way Camden kisses me is a realm of ecstasy that turns me on for another round in the ring with him.

He grabs the sports drink off the floor, and the light hits him just right to where a sliver of something catches my eye.

“What is that?” I question, reaching for his hips I turn him and find a large scar right across his hip. “Where did you get that?” It looks like it was a major cut.

He jerks out of my hold, his face masked with anger.

“Nothing.”

“What do you mean nothing?” I try to grab him to look at it again and he pulls from my grip. Retreating my hand, I become clammy knowing something really bad happened to him.

“I said it’s nothing, now drop it!” he barks, and I blink in surprise. Noticing my unease he exhales a breath in attempt to calm himself.

“I don’t want to talk about it, so just leave it alone Tatum.”

He climbs out of the ring, and heads toward the showers. My chest weighs heavy, my fingers tapping on my bottom lip in thought.

What happened to him?

Does that scar have something to do with why he doesn’t fight anymore?

Does it have something to do with that dark shadows that lurk in the depth of his eyes?

Could I have done anything to prevent it if I hadn’t left?

Chapter Eighteen

20 Years Old

Camden

Sitting in the locker room I hear the announcers call my name. The girls cheering and screaming for me to come out.

Wrapping my knuckles in red tape, Thomas barrels through the door. He’s been on edge for days, and it’s starting to become contagious. I can feel the panic starting to spread through my chest. We’ve done this a dozen times, and each time we get a better fight for next time, but Thomas has it in his head that this fight might be the one to get me into the MFC.

“Kid, this is it. You take this guy down, you’ll make the big leagues. There’s big wigs in the crowd like you wouldn’t believe!” his voice wavers with excitement.

My lips curl into a smirk at his demeanor.

“You do this every fight, Thomas. Calm down will you, it’s just like any other match.”

His eyes widen, as he stops my wrapping.

“No, this is the real deal. Potential sponsors, endorsements, people waiting to sign you and make you the next big thing.”

My heart skips a beat, the idea that this might actually be it setting in. I exhale, breathing through the pressure.

“What makes you think they’re looking at me? There’s a lot of fights tonight.” I was approached by the UFFL to fight Revy Bendoza here in LA and Thomas has been giddy since then. Thomas said it would be perfect because of the location, I agreed to come because I was looking for Tate. Even after two years, I can’t seem to let her go. Her dad won’t tell me anything besides ‘let her go’.

Looking down my hands I flex them.

This fight will be for her.

If I win, I have to let her go.

If I lose, I know it’s because I can’t go forward without her.

“Tell me kid, tell me you are focused and you’ll make the house come down tonight.”

Swallowing hard, I peer up at him. My blond hair falling in my eyes.

“I’ll win.”

“Lets get a warm welcome for the one everyone is dying to see tonight. He’s from Chicago. He’s undefeated. The one the girls purposely wore their good panties for. The one, the only, Camden Steel!”

The song “Determined” by Mudvayne is playing loudly as I enter the arena.

Slamming my fists together, I jump on the heels of my feet, my hands raised in the air as the crowd goes nuts. Hands outstretched from the crowd trying to grab at me.

Thomas meets me at the cage and shoves my mouth guard in.

“Remember kid, big time.” He slaps my shoulder, and I nod.

Standing with my arms outstretched an issued UFFL sanctioned man comes and applies Vaseline to my eyes, cheeks, and nose. It helps the punches roll off easily, keeping blood from pouring into my eyes and stopping a fight prematurely.

After the Vaseline is applied, my hands, ears, and body are checked for any illegal substances or weapons. Given the approval, I slap my fists together and run into the ring and jogging around the octagon to get my blood pumping.

The announcer raves about Revy, and I continue to stretch and prepare myself.

Entering the ring, I eye Revy Bendoza. He’s a few inches taller than me. His hair shaved off leaving dark shadows casting along his head, matching his dark thick eyebrows.

“You ready pussy boy?” he slurs around his mouth guard. I don’t respond. Thomas told me to keep it sportsmanlike. Revy is known for his antics inside the ring, getting his opponents bent out of shape and out of focus.

“You ready?” The referee points at me, and I nod.

“You ready?” He glances at Revy, who jumps on his feet, not replying.

“Let’s get it on!” The referee jumps out of the way and instantly my face takes a right hook from Revy. My ears ringing.

He goes for a left hook and I duck jabbing him in the ribs.

Side stepping me he’s out of reach. My eyes catch a blonde female in the crowd. At first glance she looks like Tate, but it’s not her.

Pain slices through my eyebrow, bringing me back from the female to the fight.

I have to let her go.

Closing my eyes I take in the pain. Not just from the fight, but the one inside my chest. I’m going to have to let the girl next door go.

Opening my eyes, blood sticks to my lashes.