Untamed (61 page)

Where the hell is she?

I imagine her walking through that door, seeing those sexy lips smile. It’s her smile and her deep, inky eyes that will take me aback first – they always do, even now. I get lost in them every time. I feel pulled to them, magnetized, and when she looks at me I can’t look away, not even for a second.

My heart rate quickens, sends blood rushing south. The image of her in my mind is clear as day, every single detail.

Her lips are soft, generous, full. Those lips pressed against my own… she sets me on fire. Smiles come so easily to her, a reflection of who she is on the inside.

Somebody much better than me.

And with her standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the spotlights from behind, I’d let my gaze travel down her body, to the peek of silky skin I see at her collar bone that makes me lick my lips and swallow hard. To the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips, those thighs and that ass…

My throat tightens, my heart pumps quicker still. My gut stirs, and I grow impatient.

She’s late, and I need her.

I’m addicted to her, everything about her. That curvy body, that ass I want to hold and squeeze, kissing my way up the inside of her thighs, making her shiver.

I think about tracing my fingertips over the curves of her body, slowly, teasing her, making her squirm in my grip, making her look at me out of lust-laced eyes, her lips parted, panting.

She’s waiting for me to take every hot, sexy inch of her, claim her as my own, and I’m going to make her beg for it.

I swallow. Hard.

But as much as I love her body, I need her mind with me. She stills the waves in me, quiets the storm. She makes me think about things from points of view I’d never considered before. She’s opened up my mind to new things, made me, without realizing it, a better person.

But most of all she makes me feel happy, and even beneath the shadow of her father, even knowing…
knowing
that what we have can’t last forever, it’s her presence that makes me forget about all that. It’s just so easy to lose myself in the present with her.

Dee… well, she’s something else. Stronger than me, braver than me… I realize that I don’t just treasure her… I admire her.

My imagination tricks my mind into thinking I can actually smell her wonderful scent, just behind her ears. Not perfume, nothing artificial.
Her
.

I wake up with that smell, cherish it every morning she’s with me. I can’t imagine not being able to kiss her neck, breathe in, feel her hair around my face, tickling, soft.

My imagination tricks me into thinking I can feel her warm breath against me, see her lips parted, the peeking tips of her teeth, her eyes shut tight, her body tensed in my own, her moans in my ear. She’s telling me not to stop. Never to stop.

God, I haven’t seen her for just a day and already it feels like a lifetime. I’m hooked. She drives me crazy.

I shift my weight, feel a stirring in my gut, anticipation, desire. It’s fight night, my biggest one yet, and I need her with me. It’s like I’m thirsty but don’t have water, like I’m hungry but don’t have food.

I grunt.

Too bad I’m stuck with this fucking joker in front of me. He’s meek, mild, and his back is curved instead of straight. It’s like he’s trying to retreat into himself, hide from me.

What the fuck for? It’s not like
he’s
climbing into the cage with me.

This fucker was the one who requested, over and over again, to get an interview with me. Now he finally has it, and he’s fucking shrinking.

I don’t have time for this shit. I have time for her, and I have time for the fighting. That’s it. Everybody else, everything else, can go straight to hell. Soon, the fighting will go straight to hell, too.

Just a few more fights. I’ll retire at the top, undefeated. I already know it’s going to happen. I can’t fool myself into thinking I
haven’t
made up my mind. But I’m not there yet. Nearly, but not yet.

I have to make sure that she and I will have everything we need.

I’m in nothing but a towel wrapped around my waist, and I’m hoping the short, stout man won’t see my bulge. I’ve been sporting it this whole time, a rock-hard boner that I’m hoping the voluminous fluffy fabric hides.

He’s a fucking reporter or something. He’d have a field day writing about that for his magazine or website or whatever.
Underground MMA fighter ‘Creature’ sits in his warm-up room, before the biggest fight of his career, with a hard-on…