Hot and Cold (4 page)

We came in on a Nicky Minaj remix, which wasn’t exactly a warm-up. If this was just some random night, I would have let go and slipped into the music, but I wanted to do something for Sean. All I could think of was to grind on him, which I wasn’t especially good at.

One feel of his grip tight on my hips and that was all forgotten. I curved a hand back around his neck, and we swayed tight on each other.

Sweat quickly started down my face. I felt his own exertion drip down on my hand. I turned around, and his blond hair was already matted down. He didn’t look exhausted though.

He smashed into me with a kiss full of lust.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said deeply - deeper than even the thumping base line.

“We just paid for parking.”

“You’re worth a hundred hours at any of these garages.”

“Aww. That’s what every girl dreams of hearing.” I stroked his damp cheek. “But I’ll still be here in a bit. How about you show me what you want to do to me?”

He looked hungry a moment, but he nodded. That turned into him bobbing his head. Then his shoulders started to bump too. Soon, he was breaking it down to the entire EDM rhythm.

“Holy shit,” I said. “You said you couldn’t dance.”

“Not when I’m piss drunk, I guess. Consider this a mating call.” He grabbed me and clutched me to him. I peered into his eyes and let him take me on a ride.

We rubbed up on each other until our clothes stuck to our skin, and our sweat mingled like we were already naked.

I couldn’t bear it for long. I broke away and then it wasn’t his body I felt, but the beat, pulsing through me, filling me with possibility. I shook and swayed and moved into it, breaking up against Sean himself.

Suddenly, we were facing off. A tiny ring had formed around us.

It’s a fight,
I realized, still moving.

I was fighting him. But in the end, we would both win.

In the swing of a blue strobe light, I saw his grin. He’d realized it too.

We fought each other for a full hour. When we got tired of being apart, we took the music back home and practiced the whole damn night.

CHAPTER FOUR

Sean and I never met the night before a fight. He usually got some last kicks in and did some victory rain dance with his friends. It dated back to when they were kids apparently.

So it was surprising when I got a text asking me to meet him at the Sandwich Spot in downtown. I’d only seen him two days ago, too.

I got the text while I was hanging out with Jada and Jamal. The two had been jamming, but now Jada and I were curled up on the old couch in the garage just dishing. Jamal was still standing tall over the mic stand and strumming his base, but he glanced over when my phone buzzed.

“Eh, is that your boy?” he asked, after I looked up. “How he doing these days?”

“Fine,” I said. “He just wants to grab dinner. Is it ok if I bail?”

“Go. go.” Jada wagged her hand. “He needs you now.”

“I guess he does.” I tucked my phone back in my purse and snapped back up. “Wait what are you guys talking about?”

“The fights,” Jada said. “Jamal said he’s down in the boards or something.”

“There are no boards, woman,” Jamal said. “There are rankings.”

Jada rolled her eyes. “Whatever. What I know is he’s not high as he used to be.”

I didn’t even know that they rated fighters. I was that out of the loop.

“He’ll get back up,” I said. “He’s been working crazy hard. Like even harder than before and that was crazy hard, too.”

“No doubt. No doubt.”

Jamal’s attention went back to the sheet of music. Jada had started checking Facebook and playing with her long braids. I still felt rattled.

“What ranking is Sean at?” I asked.

“Eleven for midwest boards,” Jamal said without looking up.

“Eleven? Eleven out of how many?”

“Maybe three hundred?”

My heart swelled. That meant he was way in the top five percent, and that was for the whole midwest. It included places like Chicago and St. Louis. “That sounds pretty good.”

“It’s good. The trajectory is not. He was eight last month. It’s easier to lose your spot than get it back.”

That much made sense, too. It had happened to my debate team, after a string of losses. “So what difference does three spots make?”

“It depends on what type of sanctioned fight the UFC brings when they come to town. If it’s round robin out of eight, well, your boy won’t be in that. Even if it is out of sixteen, another loss and he may be out of that, too.”

I nodded, as if understanding helped me any in making sure he won. All I knew now was that he really shouldn’t lose tomorrow’s fight, which was not the sort of energy he needed coming from me.

In fact, if he had a ritual that got him prepped, he probably shouldn’t be seeing me at all. I glanced at my screen and wondered if I should tell him.

Then again, his ritual hadn’t helped the last two times. If seeing me somehow broke the curse, it was worth a shot. I wasn’t exactly dressed to take his mind off things. I had on just jeans and a loose wrap blouse. He’d just have to use his imagination.

I hugged Jada and Jamal goodbye and headed downtown. I ran the numbers over and over in my head. Sean often said his fortunes rested on staying a rising star. If he dropped below sixteen, what would happen to him?

I was kinda ashamed, but I immediately wondered how much he had saved up. His apartment was expensive. If the pots dropped exponentially in size, then he’d have to move out.

I ran the math over and over, trying to figure burn rates. It helped me from thinking other things.

Things that no girl should be thinking when her boyfriend needs her.

Things like,
Would I still date him, if he truly had nothing?

I nearly crashed the car on the freeway beating the thought out of my head. God, what was I, a gold digger? Sean had always been worried about it, and I’d always told him he was silly. Well, here I was being a total jerk.

He was a great guy, with a sharp mind. MMA would be his first talent, but he had a bright future even when that was over. After all, it had to end someday.

Besides, nothing had been decided about his fight. The future would be something way different than what we expected.

I saw how right I was, the moment I arrived and laid eyes on Sean.

The line to the Sandwich Spot ran out the door. Sean waited off to the side, standing out in the best way possible.

He was wearing a three-piece suit. It was charcoal grey, dark and shimmering, and it fit perfectly. It hugged the hard ridges of his body, blew out to accommodate his muscular torso and draped sharply down the pistons he called legs. A crimson tie glowed on his chest and a grin sparkled on his face.

I walked up as if I were seeing his ghost.

“Yeah, that was the reaction I expected,” he said, draping an arm around me.

“I didn’t even know you had a suit,” I said. “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you cycle everything in your wardrobe.”

“Troy just got it for me.” He tugged the lapels. “Said I should look the part of a champion.”

“Honey, I’m not seeing just a champion.” I took another admiring look. “You look like you own the city.”

Sean chuckled. “One step at a time.”

We strolled down the boulevard in just that way. I had no idea why I had ever doubted Sean. It wasn’t just how good he looked in that suit; it was how he carried himself. People would listen to men like that. All he had to do was pick a direction to lead.

We meandered until Sean tugged me quite suddenly into a nice little French bistro.

“I think we need reservations for this place,” I said. The entire interior seemed to be appointed with deep rosewood and furnished in marble.

“Ah, Monsieur Smith,” the chic blonde hostess up front said. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

We followed her over to a table in the corner. She dropped off a wine list and nothing else. The courses must be set by the restaurant.

I took another look around. This was fancier than even the place I worked -and that was Michelin rated. The other guests looked decades older than us.

“What
is
all this?” I asked.

Sean leaned in and grasped my hands. “It’s an apology.”

“Apology?” I shook my head. “I don’t get it.”

“I’ve been neglecting you, taking you for granted. It’s as if you’re less important to me than fighting.”

“Oh, honey.” I stroked his palms. “That’s sweet, but I know what fighting means to you. I’m not upset.”

“First of all - bullshit.” He cracked a grin. “But that’s fine. It’s fine. You have every right to be upset. I’m not treating you like you deserve.”

“Yeah, but Sean, I don’t need all this.” I waved an arm around the dark, lavish interior. “I don’t need you to throw money at me.”

“No, you don’t. You’d be fine even if I took you to a Hooters to eat wings. That’s what I love about you.”

“Well, I don’t know about…”

Sean shushed me. “Kidding. I’m just saying you’re real. You do what’s right for you, not just what looks good.”

I flashed my eyes at him. “Sometimes, those turn out to be exactly the same.”

Sean laughed. “See. Now how could I ever rank the company of that mouth below anything else that I’d want in life? I should never have let what happened in the ring affect us. And I won’t again. No matter what happens tomorrow, you’ll have me.”

He let go of my hands. “As long as you want me.”

The tables were round, barely the size of a nightstand. We’d be getting served in teacups. To be honest, I generally hated places like this that forgot the purpose of food was to be fed. But right now, I was grateful for how small everything was here.

All I had to do to was tip forward on my chair to land a magenta kiss on Sean’s lips.

“I want you,” I said. “This mouth plans on keeping you company for a long, long time.”

We nuzzled together.

The promise of that moment lingered and kept us full, even through idle chit chat about the day. Through mouse sized portions of roast lamb and fish sized portions of desert. Through a bill that could feed a decent sized city in China.

As we stumbled out into the lit streets, Sean said, “You never want to go to a place like that again, right?”

“Definitely not.”

He hugged me tighter, and nuzzled the top of my head. “Girl, you’re amazing.”

I whispered in his ear: “Let me give you a reminder.”

We took a cab back to his place, waited through an eternally ascending elevator and finally tumbled through his doors.

I flicked off Sean’s jacket and whipped out his belt. His pants melted to the floor. There was so much still on him, so much I wanted to reveal, but he didn’t give me the chance.

He cradled my chin and crushed me with a kiss that took my breath away. The apartment was still and silent around us. I could hear the wet sounds of his tongue as it invaded me. He gathered me closer by the small of my back, but his attention quickly ventured south to my round little butt.

I gasped as he squeezed my flesh. He was testing the fruit to see if it was ripe.

I was. My juices were flowing hard.

He was ready too. His hardness had broken right through the flaps of his boxers. I clutched his member. The touch broke our kiss as if I’d ordered it. His head fell on my shoulder. The satisfied groan he put through my ear almost made me buckle.

I was so freaking wet and ready for him. Our whole night was meant to get to here.

But he had treated me so well. I should be good back.

“There’s a lot of ways my mouth can keep you company,” I said, sinking to my knees. “Let me know which one you prefer.”

I opened wide and took him in whole.

“This one, baby” he said. “Holy god, this one.”

“Mmm hmm.”

I bobbed gently. He barely fit, but dinner had left me hungry. I grabbed him by the back of his shirt and pulled myself deep over him.

His body went between stiff and shaky as my tongue worked his magic. The effect felt good, but even without it, he tasted clean and hot. His musk ran rich up my nose.

I loved serving him like this. Having him half-dressed from the suit made him feel powerful even beyond his body. I held his member up and ran my tongue along the bottom, feeling him buck with every pass.

I thrust my mouth back over him and swirled my tongue more insistently. He grabbed my hair.

“No, baby,” he said. “I’m not done with you yet.”

His strength threatened to lift me clean off. If I just gave in, he would drag me to his room and use my hair as reins to plunge into me from behind. I moaned on him at the thought, and that made him twitch harder.

But there were still plenty of hours left. We’d have time to work our way back up to that.

I wanted to win the first round.