Unlikely Match, page 7
Including ‘arrogant’ in the list of words to describe me wouldn’t be wholly inaccurate. That would have been the case more so in my younger years, when the cut of my body was just as precise as it was now, but the short hairs on my temples held the same light-brown pigment as the rest of my scalp. Each day, the grays seemed to double in number and the once-fine lines at the corners of my eyes deepened.
For the most part, I was confident in myself, but dating a man a decade younger than me caused a twinge every now and then.
“Was that okay?”
The faint tremor in his voice gave away thoughts that were echoing mine. Despite the fact that he ticked every box for my type, I knew that, to outsiders, our pairing was strange beyond the age difference. Physically, we were polar opposites. But somehow, as our days together passed, the deeper parts of us—the ones that would last long after my bulk turned to mush—were clicking firmly into place.
Not only between Tyler and me, but acting as a pseudo-family unit… The pain and tragedy that had led to Lolli and him being a family of two had managed to give me something I’d long believed I’d never have.
“Y-yes.” I cleared my throat. “Yes, that’s definitely okay.”
He arched a single brow and I melted into my seat. He grasped the back of my neck firmly and pulled my mouth to his, our meeting far less chaste and anything but brief. Everything around us faded into oblivion until we were the only things that existed.
I kept telling myself that entertaining something as deep as love three weeks after meeting Tyler was absurd, but, in this moment, he was challenging my willpower in more ways than one.
The hand that had been on my thigh moved up and rubbed the tight front of my shorts as he licked my lower lip before sliding his tongue inside to taunt mine. I was nanoseconds from crumbling to his touch—and making an absolute fool of myself—when he pulled back from me completely, breaking the kiss and moving his talented digits back above the table.
His wicked grin was full of promise and completely devoid of remorse. “Still trust me?”
I frowned at him for a second before taking a long draw from my ice water that wasn’t nearly cold enough—and which would probably serve me better if I poured it into my lap. “Yes, I trust you, even if I don’t like you very much right now.”
If I thought his smile was sexy, it held nothing on the low chuckle that shot a lightning bolt of need through me, powerful enough to cause a shiver down my spine. He hooked his index finger under my chin and winked. “You’ll love me soon.”
Our waiter chose that moment to deliver Tyler’s greasy bacon cheeseburger and my mountain of broccoli that dwarfed the grilled chicken breast. I closed my eyes and thanked every server from the beginning of time until now, along with whatever god they worshiped, for the impeccable timing. His lighthearted comment carried far more weight than he could possibly realize.
Lust had morphed into respect that had transformed into affectionate admiration, all of which had been sent into overdrive the very first time we’d…
‘Soon’ was completely accurate.
The night passed with excessive amounts of laughter, a few moments where I could practically taste our connection deepening and interminable torture, courtesy of a certain evil boyfriend. Lacking a committed relationship for so long made the word still foreign on my tongue, but I was growing to embrace it.
We left the underground club hand in hand with an easy silence descending over us—right up until Tyler pushed me against the side of his Land Rover and devoured my mouth in a passionate, heady kiss.
“Patience isn’t your strong suit, is it there, big boy?” His question came out in a panting gasp as he moved his lips from mine to my jaw then my neck.
I shook my head and allowed my hands to move under his shirt from where they had been gripping his waist. I pressed my fingertips into the soft curve of his spine, holding him more firmly against me.
He reached back between me and the car door and squeezed my ass hard. “You need to talk to me, Clayton. Tell me what you like and what you don’t like.” His hot breath on my ear sent fire coursing through me. “Do you trust me?”
I brought my hands up to cradle his face between my palms and pull him slightly from me. “Yes. I trust you, Tyler.” I enunciated every word to show the depth of truth in the confirmation.
He nodded slightly. “I want you to get in the car, get buckled and behave yourself.” He paused for a moment before curling his fingers around my wrists to hold me in place. “Do you mind if I spend the night at your place?”
My heart stuttered, then stopped, then beat in overtime. Tyler had told me he’d researched healthy BDSM, said that he had chatted with some more experienced Doms and wanted to continue to learn more, because he never wanted to hurt me beyond the pain I craved.
But this was something that could never be taught, knowing when to demand and when to ask. That was part of the inherent personality I might be slightly happy with myself for recognizing in its infancy in him.
I started to nod then added my voice. “Yes. I’d love that.”
My acquiescence brought back the sinister grin that sent a shiver down my back. “Good. When we get there, we’ll go inside. I’ll wait in the living room for four minutes and thirty seconds while you get undressed and lie on the bed. Surely it can’t possibly take you longer to undress than it did to get ready.”
Oh, fuck me, he’s good. “Yes.” I stepped out of his arms and rounded the hood of the SUV. Just as he said, I climbed inside, slid the buckle into place and kept a white-knuckled hold on my knees as he drove.
Chapter Sixteen
Tyler
Three minutes and seventeen seconds.
I unzipped the black duffel bag that had earned me a curious look from Clayton when I’d carried it inside before he’d hurried to follow my instructions. His obedience both stirred the glowing embers of desire and centered the chaotic parts of my soul.
Almost every training session had ended with us in either his office or the deserted locker room, all but clawing at each other. At nearly every encounter, I would give instructions that he would happily follow, occasionally punctuated with a few smacks on his ass when he intentionally delayed doing as he was told, just to get the punishment.
But tonight I wanted to take another step. I might have gone overboard, constantly checking on his level of trust, but it was more than simply an important factor. It was vital. We’d occasionally discussed what did and didn’t work for us, and this had been firmly in both our ‘want’ columns.
However, I wouldn’t take his trust or consent for granted.
Four minutes and twenty seconds.
I stripped my own clothes off, except for my boxer briefs, and grabbed the carefully coiled rope from the bag. I crossed the hall and shook out my slightly trembling hand before turning the knob that led to Clayton’s room.
One night, when the gym had had a few people still hanging around, Clayton had invited me over to his condo to give us the privacy we needed, so nothing inside these four walls surprised me, but tonight, the dark red tones lent themselves to the seductive atmosphere I was going for.
His eyes grew wide and his dick twitched when I climbed onto the bed and straddled his abdomen.
“Do you have safe words you’re used to using?” I’d planned in my head exactly the steps I needed to take to make sure Clayton felt safe before we made this move.
When he nodded, I arched a brow. His verbal confirmations were necessary and definitely something we would work on more. Later.
Even after clearing his throat, his voice was hoarse and raspy. “Yes. Corner.”
“Corner?” Granted, Clayton was far more experienced in this lifestyle than I was, but I’d expected something far more generic, such as ‘Red.’
He nodded. “It’s where you go to rest between rounds. It just makes sense to me.”
The simple explanation reminded me of the importance of discussing his career—and why he’d left it—and very soon. Clearly boxing was more than simply what he had done to make money or because he was good at it. It was a deeply ingrained passion and I needed clarification on why it wasn’t a part of his life on a significant level anymore, not to mention why he’d hidden that contract from Joey.
I uncurled the rope and pulled his arm up. I looped the hemp around his wrist then mirrored the action on the other side. “Do you trust me?” I lifted both eyebrows and dipped my chin. “Words, Clayton.”
“Yes, I trust you.”
I’d hardly touched him, we’d barely started and yet his breathing was shallow and rapid. Our need to take this step seemingly matched. I twisted and wound the scratchy fiber, locking both arms in place on the headboard and putting the end of the length in his palm. “This is a basic knot and has a quick release. All you have to do is pull on that tail and you’ll be free. Do you understand?”
He fluttered his eyes for a moment before he locked his gaze onto mine. “Yes, I understand.”
“If, at any moment, anything feels off, even if you can’t remember what to do to untie the rope, say your safe word and I’ll take care of it. Are you okay with all this?” It was my final and most important instruction. This was an act to not only deepen our sexual escapades, but also our entire relationship, in and out of the bedroom.
His entire body trembled beneath me and I couldn’t decipher if it was excitement or fear until his voice came out strong, confident and sexy as hell. “I want this and I want it with you.”
Stripping off the small layer of fabric separating us and fucking him senseless would be completely contrary to all the work we’d both put in to get here, but that was my consuming thought as I tucked his words away in a separate part of my brain, to be examined later.
I moved off him and positioned myself at the foot of the bed, spreading his legs apart. “Have you always been so impatient?” I trailed my fingertips up and down his inner thighs lightly. He wiggled under my touch but didn’t pull away.
“It’s much worse with you.”
His gravelly answer surprised me. I leaned forward and planted a kiss on each hip bone, deftly avoiding the thick shaft standing upright. His chiseled stomach was far too tempting to resist and I licked a path through the valleys between the defined muscles.
The tiny pebbles on his chest were my next destination. I was well aware that they were sensitive little nubs that drove Clayton crazy with desire.
I hummed as I sucked, gradually increasing the pressure. “Why is that, big boy?” I emphasized what had morphed from an insult into a pet name by grinding my cock against his, grinning as he thrashed his head about and his breathing nearly stopped.
“Because…” he panted the single word. “Because you are so fucking good.”
What had played out in my head as an exercise in patience for Clayton lost all its charm as soon as he said that. I grabbed the small bottle and a foil pack from the bedside table, sheathed my own aching dick and knelt between his open thighs.
The cold liquid quickly coated my fingers and I smeared it on his ass. I slid two fingers inside him and he arched into my touch. “You are in such trouble.” The warning accompanied the insertion of a third digit. With my free hand, I squeezed a line of the lube onto my latex-covered cock and coated the entire length. “You’re making me change my plans.”
I pulled my fingers free and hesitated at the opening for a moment, uncertain if the brief prep had been enough.
Clayton drew his brows together and whimpered, rocking his hips toward my dick. “I’ll be very sorry for ruining your night later, but right now I need you. Please.”
It took every ounce of my willpower not to make a giant fool of myself at his plaintive cry. How in the hell could one word hold so much power? I held the backs of his knees with my still-sticky hands and pushed them forward to touch his chest as I thrust my full length inside him in one quick movement.
He arched his neck, pressing his head more firmly into the pillow, and moaned in a low tone. It was a sound that hurled me to the brink of my sanity and control as I doubled the pace.
I leaned down and joined my mouth to his, swallowing a hitch in his breathing that I knew was heralding his explosion. Harder and faster, I pumped inside him and dragged my lips to his ear. “You didn’t ruin anything, big boy. This is the best fucking night of my life.”
With the last syllable, his groaned transformed into a deep roar and his body shook beneath me. Three more thrusts and I joined him in a blissful sea of ecstasy.
Every muscle in my body screamed at me for rest, to simply roll onto my side and give in to the soft fog of slumber beckoning me. But with the fun of playing our roles came a grave responsibility for me—one I was determined not to fuck up.
Before I even removed the condom, I released the tie holding his arms in place, gave him a soft kiss on the temple and promised I’d be right back. I hopped off the bed long enough to dispose of the sheath in the trash beside the bed and crossed over to wash my hands in the pedestal sink in the en suite bathroom.
Clayton’s face was impassive by the time I returned, and I moved to quickly cover him with the blanket folded at the foot of the mattress and pull him into my arms. I massaged his bicep and kissed the crown of his head. “You okay, big boy?”
Sub drop was real and highly warned about in every book and article I’d read, as well as being a main talking point from the seasoned Doms I’d met. Just because I was on guard and knew all the information in my head didn’t mean I’d handle it right in reality. That was a facet of this that scared me. I wanted to be worthy of the trust he gave me.
He looked up at me with his eyelids half closed and a drunken smile. “I will be if we stay exactly like this all night.”
The tight band of concern that had wound around my chest eased. “Yeah, we can do that.” I found his ear with my lips. “But that doesn’t cover the morning.”
Chapter Seventeen
Clayton
At far-too-damn-early o’clock, Joey popped his head into my office. Another session with Tyler this morning before I went to the gym and he went to school had left me dragging before I’d even crossed the threshold. And Joey’s stormy expression meant he’d be giving me news I wasn’t even close to having the energy to deal with.
His dark lips were pressed into a thin line and his hand flexed around the doorknob. The silence was more deafening than whatever explosion he was holding back.
I frowned up at him from my seat behind the desk. “What’s up, J-man?”
“Neil is on the phone…again.” His nostrils flared and his voice dropped an octave. “What the hell are you doing, Clayton?”
Joey had a litany of nicknames for me, but my actual name rarely ever left his mouth. Shit. He was suspicious—and with good reason. I hadn’t yet broached my fight with him, knowing it would be a battle.
It wasn’t the time for me to drop that particular bomb and I needed the information Neil had, so instead of answering him directly, I took a deep breath. “Let me see what he wants then we’ll talk, okay? You’ve got a session in five minutes anyway. Just come back in after that.”
His jaw moved sideways a few times before he offered a curt nod and turned to leave, closing the door behind him with a soft click. A loud, reverberating slam would’ve been preferable. Joey holding things back was terrifying.
I hit the red blinking button on the black phone on my desk. “What’s up?”
“Clayton, my boy, you are gonna wanna kiss me when you see all the zeros on this paycheck.” His voice was nearly as greasy as his hair and tended to make my stomach turn.
A nervous, mirthless laugh bubbled up in the back of my throat. “Yeah, that’s assuming I still retain the ability to sign my name or even know what the fuck it is by the end of the night.”
He groaned low. “You’re being dramatic, Clayton. Have you gotten soft in retirement? Listen… Remember what the doctors said. It was a possibility that you could have lasting damage following another fight. It wasn’t a guarantee. You’ve given up a career you love that made you and me both a shit ton of money over something that might never happen.” Neil rubbing his palms together echoed across the line. “Although the promise of pulling the great Clayton James out of retirement is what sent these numbers into the stratosphere, so maybe it was a good choice.”
I ground my molars together and took several deep breaths to calm myself as much as possible before responding. “You’re downplaying the sentiments of every doctor I saw. Hell, you were with me for three different appointments. This is serious and I am probably a dumb shit for agreeing to this match.” I dropped my head back and closed my eyes. “But my gym has taken a nosedive and I can’t seem to come up with any other option.”
It was the naked, painful and unfortunate truth. I’d hired various companies over the past year that had promised to boost my enrollment and nothing had helped. If I did manage to get a surge from a particular promotion, it was irritatingly short-lived. Memberships would dwindle off after a month or two, and I’d be back to transferring money from my rapidly decreasing personal funds to cover the bills.
When I had been ‘the man’ in the ring, I’d told myself that all the six- and seven-figure deals I’d made would last me a lifetime—that I’d never be that kind of celebrity to indulge in a ridiculous home that was ten times what I needed, fifteen cars with obscene price tags or insist on a designer-only wardrobe, even for working out.
No. I’d told myself I’d be smart with my money and live the kind of comfortable lifestyle for the rest of my days that had been sorely lacking in my early ones.
It had been a great plan, right up until my gym—my passion—had started hemorrhaging money. That left me in a position where I had to put my health and my very life on the line to bring life back to my dream.
“Clayton, I need you to keep your game face on. Don’t back out now. Hell, son, just your contract signing is going to rake in six figures.”
