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Authors: Christa Cervone

Tags: #Contemporary

On the Ropes (Down for the Count) (6 page)

BOOK: On the Ropes (Down for the Count)
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“Right there, Saint,” Aimee directs.

I stiffen the tip of my tongue and move it rapidly from side to side, showing no mercy. She lets out a gasp as her body begins to tremble.

Sarah begins riding me faster and her moans are becoming increasingly louder. I try like hell to stop myself, but it’s no use. Sarah’s pussy is tightly clenched around me and I feel myself start to come, her body is milking me to climax. A warm burst explodes into the condom as Sarah’s body is convulsing around my cock. “Christ, Sarah,” I gasp as another spurt jets out. I dig my fingers into Sarah’s thighs, trying to keep her still, but she’s fighting me as she keeps thrusting. She’s frantically trying to achieve an orgasm as her hips roll into mine. Her head falls back as she cries out. Aimee is now writhing on my face and the two girls simultaneously orgasm.

Aimee is the first to climb off of me and quietly slips into the bathroom. Sarah collapses onto my chest as I’m breathing heavily from the effects of what just occurred. “Sarah, you okay?” I feel her head nod against my chest. Brushing her hair away from her face, I caress her cheek, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just tired,” she yawns.

I hear the bathroom door open. “Awww, look at you two cuddling,” Aimee says, as she walks back into the room.

And, that’s my cue to get out of here. I don’t need either of them getting the wrong impression. In no way was I cuddling with Sarah, I was only checking on her to make sure she’s okay. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a shower.”

“Don’t be too long,” Aimee says as I walk by.

I roll my eyes as I walk out of my bedroom.
Shit, shit, shit. She’s already getting ideas about us. Why can’t I ever seem to find a girl who just wants to fuck? Why do they always want more?

I take my time in the shower, hoping that the two of them will have fallen asleep by the time I’m finished. Then with a towel wrapped around my waist, I head to the kitchen. I’m dying of thirst and can really use a beer. Trying to be quiet, I open the door to the refrigerator and cringe as it squeaks. I spot the last Sam Adams and grab it off the top shelf, then pop the top off and take a swig as I lean up against the counter
. Exactly how am I going to get these two home? It’s way too late to send them packing tonight, yet letting them stay here is a bad idea. Jimmy! I’ll text him and see if he and Stephannie are still out and about. Maybe they can swing by and pick up the girls.

 

Me

Hey, Jim! Whatcha up to? You wanna swing by for a beer?

 

Jimmy

You’re fuckin’ kidding, right? Steph isn’t talkin’ to me and I’m sleepin’ on the couch, thanks to you. I hope it was worth it.

 

Me

It was totally worth it.

 

Jimmy

But let me guess

now you want them to leave?

 

Me

How’d you know?

 

Jimmy

‘Cause I know how you operate.

 

Me

So whatta you say?

 

Jimmy

I say goodnight and sweet dreams, lover boy.

 

Me

Come on, Jimmy!

 

After my last text, I never hear back from Jimmy. Standing in the kitchen, I slowly nurse my beer and contemplate what I should do. With no new ideas, I head back into my room. Both girls are sprawled out across my bed, fast asleep and totally naked. Peering back into the living room, I consider sleeping on the couch, but it’s so uncomfortable. I drop my towel on the floor and carefully maneuver myself onto the bed, while trying not to disturb either of them. Once I get myself comfortable, I stare at the ceiling. I begin thinking about my training tomorrow.
Shit, Frankie was right, girls are a distraction.

I shake my head. Frankie’s always right; him and his damn rules. Rule number one: No girlfriends. He wants his fighters to be clear-headed and he says, “Broads only complicate things.” I’ve seen it happen first-hand. The girlfriend gets jealous that her boyfriend isn’t spending enough time with her, then she starts showing up at the gym and hanging out, which pisses Frankie off.

There was one time he actually kicked a fighter’s girlfriend out of the gym. He’d told her, “You’re too much of a distraction. Go wait in the car.” As you can expect, that ended badly. Frankie and Josh got into a screaming match in the middle of the ring and Josh ended up taking a swing at Frankie. Needless to say, once Josh walked out the door, he was no longer welcome at the gym. Frankie is a no bullshit kind of guy. If you have a problem with his rules, he’ll gladly show you the door.

Stephannie is Frankie’s only exception. He only allows Steph to come around because she and Jimmy have been together forever and she knows better than to interfere with Jimmy’s training. She’s aware of Frankie’s rules and follows them to a “T.” If she happens to stop by and Jimmy’s in the middle of training, she patiently waits for him in Frankie’s office; never interrupting.

 

 

 

“Why am I gonna be remembered as one of the greatest fighters of all time? ‘Cause I made mistakes.”

—Evander Holyfield

 

 

 

I wake wedged between Aimee and Sarah and I have to piss like a racehorse. That had to have been the most uncomfortable night’s sleep I’ve ever had. I probably would’ve been better off sleeping on the couch. Trying not to wake either of them, I untangle myself from Aimee’s legs, which are twisted around mine, and Sarah’s arm, that’s lying across my chest, and I ease myself off the bed.

I quietly walk to the bathroom and carefully shut the door behind me. Adrian’s bedroom is right across the hall from the bathroom, and he’s a pretty light sleeper, so I always try to be conscientious of that. He’s a bartender and comes home at all hours of the night. I’m actually not even sure he’d come home last night, but there’s no need for us to run into each other in the hallway while I’m naked. Even though it certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’s seen me in a compromising position.

Taking care of business, I figure a nice hot shower will wake me up, so I turn the faucet on and step in. Standing directly under the showerhead, I let the steady stream beat down on my back. Then I move my arms, shoulders, and neck in a circular motion to loosen my stiff muscles. With my body relaxed and my mind clear, I am where I need to be…
training mode.
I know exactly what I need to do to get myself ready for this fight and going out and drinking on a nightly basis is not one of them. Last night was the last night of partying until my victory celebration.

Turning the water off, I step out of the shower. I peer down at my watch, and realizing what time it is, I quickly dry myself off then rush into my room. I rummage through my drawers looking for clothes. Looking down at my watch yet again, I need to hurry up and get to the gym. Frankie’s going to chew my ass out if I’m late. Another one of his rules: He does not tolerate lateness, especially when you’re training for a fight. After getting dressed, I begin to search for my sneakers. I retrace my steps from the night before with no luck.
Where the fuck did I take them off?
Then it dawns on me to look under the girls’ clothes that are in piles on the floor. I find one sneaker under Sarah’s jeans and the other under Aimee’s shirt.

Sitting gently on the corner of my bed, I begin to lace up my sneakers. My training, this morning, will begin with running to the gym. Running is one of my least favorite parts of training, but Frankie insists on it. He tells us that cardio is good, it helps us build stamina for when we’re in the ring. “What good is taking a punch, if you’re gonna be winded by the third round?” he’d bark at me.

I look over my shoulder at Aimee and Sarah; both still fast asleep in my bed. “Fuck,” I say, looking at the clock. Frantically, I look around my room for a piece of paper to write on. I have to leave and I can’t wait for them to wake up. My ass needs to be at the gym in thirty minutes or Frankie’s gonna have my head. Finding an old crumpled up envelope on my dresser, I grab it and then rush into the kitchen for a pen.

 

Hey Aimee & Sarah,

I had a really great time last night. Sorry I had to bail, but I have to train today. I’m leaving you some money for a taxi to take you home.

-Saint

 

I leave the envelope and forty bucks on the kitchen counter, propping it up with a water bottle in hopes they’ll see it. Grabbing a cold water bottle out of the fridge and my iPhone off the charging station, I head out the door. Just as I’m about to shut the door, I realize I better text Adrian about the girls being there. I’d hate for them to run into each other without knowing the other one was there.

 

Me

Yo Adrian! Just a heads up. There are two naked girls in my room.

 

I smirk as I hit send on Adrian’s message. He hates when I say, “Yo Adrian” to him. He’s been teased since he was in grade school because of his name and it being in the movie,
Rocky
. His parents actually chose the name Adrian because of the movie. I’m sure he’s going to give me shit about my message, and within 10 seconds, I get his answer.

 

Adrian

Re: the heads up

Thank You

and Fuck You!

 

Score!
Laughing to myself, I walk down the stairs while scrolling through my playlists until I find my cardio music, which is mostly Rock ‘n’ Roll. I love Bad Company, The Rolling Stones, Guns ‘N’ Roses, and AC/DC; music that gets your blood pumping. With the earbuds in my ears, I jog the rest of the way down the stairs and all the way to the gym.

 

 

“It’s about goddamn time, Gabriel!” Frankie hollers from across the gym while pointing at his watch. “I keep tellin’ you, booze and broads aren’t gonna get you a win.”

“Frankie, I’m five minutes late and I fuckin’ jogged here!”

“I don’t give a shit if you grew wings and flew here, you’re still late! You know what that means right?”

I nod my head angrily at him.

“I didn’t hear you!” Frankie yells.

“Yeah, I know what it means… I gotta clean the fuckin’ locker room!” I say, punching the heavy bag as I walk by him and into the locker room.

Nearly ripping the door off my locker; I grab my hand wraps and gloves off the top shelf, slam the door shut, then punch it.

“Whoa, Saint,” I hear from behind me. “You better not let Frankie see you doing that shit. He’ll kick your ass to the curb,” Jimmy says calmly.

“He can go fuck himself. I’m so fuckin’ tired of him and his fuckin’ rules!” I growl as I pace back and forth.

“Christ, what the fuck did I miss?” he asks.

“I was five fuckin’ minutes late and I ran here, for Christ’s sake. He’s never fuckin’ happy. Nothing I do is ever good enough for him. After this fight, I’m lookin’ for another gym… I’m done.”

Jimmy walks up to me and puts his hands on both my shoulders, trying to calm me down. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little? You know Frankie, and you know his rules. I tried to warn you last night, I practically begged you not to take Aimee and Sarah home with you.”

I roll my eyes at him.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, you know I’m right.”

“After the fight with ‘
The Gladiator
,’ I’m gone!” I shove his hands off my shoulders. “I’m sick of his rules and of him treating me like a child,” I say angrily. “How long have we been here, Jimmy? And he’s still pullin’ the same shit with me. Tellin’ me I gotta clean the locker room? I’ve fuckin’ paid my dues. I shouldn’t have to do this shit anymore. That’s for a grunt. A fighter shouldn’t have to clean the mother fuckin’ locker room!”

Jimmy gets right up in my face, “You’re not going anywhere. You know Frankie is ridin’ your ass to get you pumped for the fight. Just calm the fuck down.”

“Gabriel, you got a problem with me,” Frankie grunts as he walks through the locker room door, “then you
take
it up with me. Jimmy, get the fuck outta here. I wanna talk to Gabriel alone.”

BOOK: On the Ropes (Down for the Count)
6.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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