Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Griff runs his heated gaze from my toes peeking out of my high silver sandals, to the short hem hugging my mid-thighs, to my hips, over my chest and finally to my face. “You look gorgeous.” His gaze drops to my legs again. “So good, I’m not sure I want you going out in public like that.”
I narrow my eyes. “You don’t get to veto my outfits if they look good.”
“I dunno. Gonna be a lot of horny fight fans in the crowd. Not to mention fighters from the earlier matches. One of them touches you, I’m gonna jump that cage and kill ’em.”
“Aren’t we sitting in the front row?” I tilt my head, trying to convey how silly he’s being. “With our entourage in attendance, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
His lips tilt to the side. “Will you be comfortable?”
“No. But focusing on breathing in this dress will help me keep my mind off of worrying about you.”
“You don’t have to worry about me. I know what I’m doing. I’ve trained hard. Feeling the best I’ve ever felt before a fight.”
“Good, because I’m a wreck,” I finally admit, tired of holding that in.
A furrow forms between his brows. “You don’t have faith in me?”
“I have all the faith in the world in you. I still don’t like you getting hurt. Even a little.”
“I’ll do my best not to,” he promises. He runs his gaze over my dress again. “God damn, you look hot. Are you wearing the dress tonight?”
“No, it’s for fight night.” I bite my lip. “Although I bought a different dress. It’s purple. Maybe I should wear that instead?”
“Show it to me later.” He takes a step closer. “How easy is this to get off?”
“What?” I tiptoe backward, trying not to trip in the high heels.
“You heard me.” He reaches for me again. “Turn around. Does it have a zipper?”
“I thought fighters had a no-sex rule before a fight?”
“Nah, that’s a myth.” A playful smile ripples over his lips. “You weren’t worried about rules when you were promising to fuck me hard down in the gym earlier.”
My cheeks heat. I did talk a good game. “Are you sure you want to risk it?”
“Well,” he rubs his hand over his chin, still staring at me like I’m his next meal, “there’s actual science that suggests the more times you climax, the bigger the boost to testosterone. So, it could be beneficial before a fight.”
I can’t help giggling. “So, sex for science?”
“Absolutely.” He grins even wider, making him so damn irresistible. “My first professional-ish fight, I’d gone without, and I lost. So, yeah, let this be our scientific experiment.”
“Ugh. You did not lose that fight as far as I’m concerned. You were robbed.”
He captures me around the waist, pulling me closer but his expression’s more serious. “Thank you.”
“For stating the obvious? You heard how mad the audience was at the reunion show.”
He’s shaking his head before I finish my thought. “No, for even mentioning it. I know how much you hate the show.”
“It’s part of our story now, good or bad.” It took some time to get to this point. “They tried to come between us and lost.” I drape my arms over his shoulders. “You and me against the world, Griff.”
“That’s how it’s always going to be.” He stares at me for a few beats. “Thank you for being here with me,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“I go where you go.” I rub the tips of my fingers through his hair and his eyes drift shut. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you came back to the room.”
“That’s okay. I’m glad you went out. I think you’d be bored hanging in the gym.” He opens his eyes and his mouth flattens into an annoyed line. “And that press conference was bullshit. I don’t want you at any of them.”
“I heard the high school crack about me. These dumbasses don’t know how to count very well, do they?”
His angry scowl deepens. “Please don’t listen to that bullshit.”
“Griff, I don’t care if they poke fun of my age. But I do care about them trying to imply bad things about you because of me.” I step back, showing him my dress again. “I’m hoping this makes me look a little older?”
He studies my body with an appreciative spark in his eyes.
“I know you have more to worry about than my fashion choices,” I say. “I’m just…nervous.”
“Molly,” he breathes out. “You always look…I don’t know what word I’m looking for. Good isn’t strong enough.” He shakes his head, frustrated.
“Well,” a nervous laugh spills out of me, “maybe I’m still a little traumatized from all the jailbait jokes they made on the show.”
“I’m proud you’re my girlfriend. Always. I like the way you dress. Please don’t change anything because of these assholes.” He cocks his head. “Don’t I always comment on how clever your outfits are?”