The Fighter (The High Rise, Book 1) (14 page)

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Authors: Harper Bentley

Tags: #construction worker, #tattoos, #weight lifting, #alpha male, #hot guy

BOOK: The Fighter (The High Rise, Book 1)
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I’m
panicking.

Heath’s asleep
behind me, one arm under my neck and the other thrown across my
waist, my body curled into his, and I realize I don’t even know
him.

I’m falling
for a man I know nothing about other than he has a great body, an
awesome face, a smartass attitude and he fucks like none other.

Oh. And he
works in construction and he likes to fight.

But another
thing I’m wondering? How did he go from hating me to suddenly
liking me? Just Friday he was accusing me of putting on an act
about something and two days later we’re having sex? I mean, how
does that happen?

And what’s
going to happen when he wakes up? Is it going to be awkward? Oh,
please, God, don’t let it be awkward! But if it is, what else can
we do about it when we see each other in the weight room, the
elevator or the market but just smile and say hi, embarrassed that
we let things go too far one night?

I don’t
realize I’ve let out a frustrated groan until his arm tightens on
me.

Shit! I’ve
woken him up! Now what?

“’S’matter,
baby?” he says in my ear, his voice husky with sleep.

I start to
answer but his hand drops between my legs and his fingers start
working their magic stopping anything other than a moan to come
from my mouth. His other hand curls up and he finds my nipple,
rolling it lightly between his thumb and finger making me whimper
and arch against him.

His mouth at
my ear whispers, “That’s my girl,” and I’m so turned on by that, by
his hot breath against my skin, his hands on me, that I come
straightaway, no prelude, no nothing, just BAM! Instant orgasm.
Good lord.

While he
speckles an array of breathy kisses over on my neck, sliding his
considerable length between my legs forward and back several times
through my folds, I try remembering what I was going to tell him,
but my post-climax bliss and everything he’s doing to me are
fogging my head. Then, oh yeah. I remember. I need to tell him we
should slow down, get to know each other better before sleeping
together again.

Believe me,
the irony of this is so not lost on me.

Just as I take
a breath to tell him he asks, “Do I need a condom? I’m clean.”

I shake my
head no because I’m also clean then I start to talk again.

“You’re on
birth control?” he says.

I nod yes, and
right as I open my mouth to interject my point, he pulls my leg
over his hip and enters me from behind. This, combined with his
hands and fingers doing what they are, makes a sound come from my
already open mouth that’s unintelligible, my body locks up and
there I go again, coming all over the place like it’s normal for
me. Honest to God, I’ve always had to finish myself with other guys
yet Heath touches me and I’m there. Damn.

“Fuck yeah,”
he groans when he feels me pulsing around him, putting his hand
flat on my belly and pulling me tighter against him. “Love that.
Like your pussy’s trying to keep me inside you. Doesn’t wanna let
me go.”

He’s right. So
right. From the very start there’s been something between us,
something chemical or biological that’s drawn me to him and my
body’s reaction to him now is proof of this.

I’ve now
forgotten what I was going to say, not able to focus on anything
other than how perfect he feels. I just want more of what I’m
getting because it’s so damned good. When I reach down between my
legs and V my fingers around his cock as he drives inside me, just
making sure this is all real, he growls in my ear as his thrusts
become faster.

“God, you’re
so big,” I breathe out, thrusting my ass back to take him
deeper.

He speeds up
even more, grabbing me tighter with the hand splayed across my
stomach and warns, “Gonna make me come.” Then with a deep groan
he’s there burying his cock deep inside me.

Afterward, we
lie there panting as he wraps both arms around me embracing me even
more tightly than before. I could so get used to this. And
seriously, if relationships were based only on sex, we’d be good to
go.

A few moments
later, he pulls out and tells me he’ll be back. He turns on the
bedside lamp and I watch him go admiring his nice, tight butt and
how his broad shoulders V down to his narrow waist. Too late I
realize I’ve been daydreaming about him instead of getting up and
dressing, and he’s back with a washrag that he uses to clean me up
(another first) before leaving to put it in the hamper in my
bathroom, then he immediately returns. And, oh my. I’ve gotten to
see him coming and going a total of six times tonight and it’s been
a friggin’ treat.

But even
though he’s glorious to look at, I still don’t know him and my
mind’s racing thinking of how to explain it all to him.

He sits on the
side of the bed and reaches for his jeans tugging them onto his
legs before standing to pull them all the way up and buttoning
them. He next grabs his t-shirt and slips it over his head
stretching his muscular arms through the sleeves then looks down at
me smiling warmly which melts my heart. “What’s going on in that
head of yours?” His eyes are now narrowed as he looks at me, and I
see that distrust that I’ve grown accustomed to flare in them for a
second.

And that’s the
trigger.

“That!” I snap
sitting up, holding the sheet over my chest before drawing my knees
up. “That right there is what’s been wrong.”

More eye
narrowing before shaking his head and stating, “I’m not
understanding.”

I sigh. “From
day one you’ve looked at me that way.”

He frowns.
“What way?”

“Like you
don’t trust me. The way you just did.”

He looks at
me, as in really looks at me this time, which is different from all
the other times, and admits, “You’re right.”

This surprises
me. “I am?”

He chuckles.
“Yeah.” He shrugs. “And I didn’t then but I do now.”

I make a face.
“Didn’t then but do now what?”

“Trust
you.”

I let out an
exasperated huff. “Why didn’t you trust me before?”

“Long
story.”

“I’ve got
time,” I share.

He sits on the
bed and starts pulling on his socks. “I can’t go into it right now,
but I
will
tell you later.”

I make a
pfffttt
sound as he bends to grab his boots. “So we’re
starting out not trusting each other
and
keeping secrets? I
don’t think this’ll ever work.”

He stops tying
his boot and now turns
extremely
narrows eyes to me. “What’s
that supposed to mean?”

I shrug
flippantly. “It means just that,” I answer, throwing his own words
back at him. “And besides, we don’t even know each other! I don’t
even know your middle name!”

“Cutter.”

My brow comes
down. “What?”

“My middle
name,” he explains.

“Oh.”

We stare at
each other for a moment before he informs me, “I disagree with
everything you’ve said.”

“What? Why?” I
inquire. “We don’t know a damned thing about each other,” I
restate. Jeez, he’s hardheaded.

He leans
toward me, his hand going to my face where he runs his thumb over
my bottom lip. “I know that you get pouty lips when you’re arguing
with me.” I frown and he chuckles. “I know that you get a little
wrinkle between your brows when you’re mad.” I roll my eyes. “I
know that you like German chocolate cupcakes.” He leans up and
brushes his lips against mine. “I know that you’ve got an ass that
looks so fucking good in those skirts you wear that I almost pop a
fucking boner every time I see you in them. And I know you’re the
best fucking lay I’ve ever had.”

I blush at the
last part. There’s no question he’s the best I’ve ever had but
hearing that about me from him makes me feel somewhat giddy.

He goes back
to tying his boot then stands and turns to me. “We’re having dinner
tomorrow night at Andre’s at seven.”

“N-no we’re
not!” I sputter.

“It bothers
you that we don’t know each other.” He jerks a shoulder up. “Let’s
get to know each other.” He bends putting his hands on the bed to
either side of me and gives me another earth-shattering kiss. “See
you tomorrow night,” he reminds giving me a wink before leaving the
room.

“I didn’t say
yes!” I call after him.

“Tomorrow
night!” I hear him holler before he closes my front door behind
him
.

 

 

Twelve

 

I would’ve liked to
have spent the night with Laney but I had some things I needed to
do, plus I knew she was getting worked up over shit so I thought
I’d leave her to sort it out
.

She’ll realize
soon enough that this is going to happen between us.

“Hey, man. We
still on?” I ask Craig from my phone as I get in the elevator after
having showered quickly at my apartment and changing clothes.

Friday
morning, he’d invited me to his apartment tonight to watch some
March Madness basketball. So I’m now taking him up on it thinking I
might be able to nab his keys, see if one opens Kyle’s office and
make a copy. It’s worth a shot.

I exit the
elevator on the second floor and make my way to Craig’s apartment,
knocking when I get there. Some pretty little thing opens the
door.

“Well, hey
there, handsome. C’mon in,” she says flirtatiously.

I go inside
and Craig meets me almost immediately, his arm around another woman
who’s nibbling on his ear. “Hey, dude. This is Glenda.” He nods his
head toward the woman who opened the door.

“I’m the good
witch,” she says seductively with a flirty smile.

“And this is
Ronni. She’s with me,” he tells me unnecessarily since she’s now
about to eat his face off. “They both live in the building.”

Ronni looks at
me, meaning she looks at my crotch, and mutters, “Oh, this could be
fun.”

“Hey,” I
offer, as Craig hands me a beer then the Glenda chick grabs my hand
and leads me into the living room plopping down on the couch and
patting it for me to sit beside her.

Jesus. The
things I do for my brother. He’s gonna owe me big time for this
shit.

“So you’re
Heath?” she asks when I’m seated. “Like the yummy candy bar. I’ll
bet you taste just as good too.” She laces her arm through mine
making sure to brush it with her breast when she does.

She’s very
petite with long blond hair, almost a Pamela Anderson lookalike,
dressed for action in a low-cut Harley-Davidson t-shirt and a micro
mini jean skirt, and if I went for that type she’d be perfect. But,
no, I’m into sassy auburn-haired beauties who wear longer tight
skirts and fuck hard without any inhibitions.

The game
that’s on is pretty good, so as I drink my beer and watch, Glenda
starts asking about my tattoos.

By the time
I’ve explained the background of the first ten tatts on my arms,
I’ve now grown tired of her questions, so I just start making shit
up to see her reaction.

“Got that one
in ‘Nam,” I say seeing her eyes get big. Damn. “I was assigned to
take down Colonel Kurtz with extreme prejudice because he’d gone
crazy and was touting himself as some kind of god to a group of
highlanders.”

“Oh my God!
That must’ve been so dangerous!”

She seems to
be enthralled so I continue telling her the plot of
Apocalypse
Now,
with me starring as Captain Willard, to her complete and
utter shock. I end my tale appropriately with “The horror… the
horror” and she gasps telling me she’s impressed with my bravery.
It’s all I can do to keep from laughing. Jesus.

The first game
ends and I get up to use the bathroom. I see that Craig doesn’t
notice because he and Ronni are fused at the lips in the chair he’s
sitting in with her straddling him. She’s dressed similarly to
Glenda and I can’t see his hands so yeah.

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