Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
"Aye aye, boss," Keith calls back, jumping up from the desk and heading over to the boxing area.
"Go sit over there." Porter nods to the seats by the ring. "And enjoy the show."
Then, he's striding away, and I feel giddy. I didn't expect it to happen this fast, but I'm not complaining. I take the seat with the best view of the center ring and can't take my eyes off Porter. He climbs into the ring, and he and Keith exchange words. Porter points towards me, and Keith laughs, giving me a thumbs up.
"Cute." A middle-aged woman next to me sighs. Surprised, I look around and see that quite a few people have come over to watch the sparring match.
I glance over at her. She's wearing tight workout clothes, and her hair is done in a messy bun, a sheen of sweat on her forehead. Her gaze is locked on Keith. "I've tried to talk to him so many times. He always says he's too busy to date."
"Mmhmm," I agree noncommittally.
"They look good, don't they?" She sighs.
"Yep," I murmur, hoping she'll get the hint. I don't want to talk about her crush on the other man. I want to concentrate.
Keith and Porter circle each other, warming up. Keith is older and shorter, but from what Porter has told me, he was one of the best fighters in the country in his prime. They bounce on their feet, feinting at each other. Then, Keith goes in for the first punch.
It's a dance. They circle and move and swing their gloved fists. It's a flurry of movement, and they're both grinning as they go.
"Porter is great too. His gym is the best in the area. All the employees love him. Even the regulars are happy."
"Mhmm." I nod, trying to pay attention to her and the action at the same time.
Keith lands a hit against Porter's cheek, and I wince. But Porter shakes his head, a grin stretching over his face, and goes back in. I lean forward, entranced by all of it—the way these big, strong men move so easily, how quickly they can predict each other's movements. It's like a form of art, the way they move, and I can't take my eyes off either of them.
Finally, Porter gets the upper hand, knocking Keith back and pinning him against the ropes. With his opponent cornered, Porter delivers the final hit. It's controlled, but the sound of his glove against Keith's skin is loud, and the older man sinks.
"Damn." Keith grins. "I guess I'm getting too old for this."
Porter helps his employee up. "You're still a hell of a fighter, Keith. I learned a lot from you."
Keith's smile widens. "Yeah, I bet. Alright, kid. Time for me to go and find some Tylenol.”
Keith leaves the ring, and Porter turns towards me, his gaze heated. "Come on down, Bailey."
I flush. His expression is intense, and the command sends heat through my body. Still, I obey, stepping into the ring and walking over to Porter.
"So? What did you think?"
"That was amazing," I gush, looking up at him. I mean every word of it, too. Watching him in his element has amped everything I've been feeling up to eleven. I want more of it—more watching him fight, more kisses, more touches, all of it. He's the total package. Surely the age thing isn't that big of a deal. Porter is huge, domineering, and clearly dangerous in all possible ways. Every bit of it turns me on.
Porter chuckles, taking off the boxing gloves. "Good."
He comes toward me and takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting my face up to his, making my breath catch in my throat. For a moment I'm sure he's going to kiss me, but then a machine clangs somewhere in the gym, and he's swiftly reminded of where exactly we are.
And how making out with your student in the middle of the boxing ring probably isn't the best look for a business owner.
"Come on," he says. "We can finish your lesson, and then we can grab lunch."
I blink. "Together?"
Porter rolls his eyes. "Yeah, Bailey. Together."
"Okay." I beam.
He wraps up his knuckles, and we fall back into the rhythm. He corrects my stance, and our bodies brush together. Porter is hot and sweaty, his muscles flexing with every movement, and God, it's sexy as hell.
After a half hour of punching the bag, I'm panting and sweating too, but Porter's expression is approving. "You're a quick study," he praises, and pleasure makes my cheeks flush. “Let's do a round in the ring. Just a little one."
I can't say no. "Okay. If you think I’m ready."
I climb up, and Porter follows after me. We settle across from each other, and he tosses me a pair of light, padded gloves. I put them on and watch him closely.