Loving a Dangerous Life (editing)

Chapter 53 - Match

Alexander worked on the buttons on his shirt, slowly undoing them and holding my eyes the entire time. I swallowed. Being in the same room with a man who is sex on legs is hard. All of his tattoos shone in the light, and I wanted to ask him what every single one meant. I wanted to memorize them until I could trace them with my eyes closed.

He tossed his shirt to the side, and grabbed some tape, wrapping it around his knuckles. I adjusted my tape, suddenly nervous.

"How about a deal, sweetheart?" He seemed to sense my hesitation and sudden lack of confidence as he stepped forward. He closed the distance between us completely until his arm was wrapped around my waist, his thumb unconsciously rubbing circles on my hip. My hands rested on his shoulders and our eyes meeting. I couldn't look away even if I wanted to.

"A deal?"

"If I win, I get to take you to the playroom I have set up for us and have my way with you." He paused, daring me to drop my eyes.

"And if I win, big boy?" I challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"If you win, I'll take you shopping, make you dinner, and then fuck you."

"Either way, your fucking me." I licked my dry lips.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, darling." He nearly whispered. I swallowed, turned on, frustrated, and dreamy. At the end of the day, there isn't any possibility I wouldn't want to be in his bed.

"Deal." I backed away from him, adjusting my tape again.

I was good at fighting, but Alexander had been training since he was born. Beating him would be next to impossible.

He made the first move, delivering a half-assed uppercut that I barely dodged. I retaliated with just as much energy, driving my elbow to his stomach, but he grabbed my arm, pulling on it until my back was against his chest.

"Are we fighting or playing, Darling?" He chuckled. I growled under my breath, driving my elbows back and stomping on his foot. His hold on me loosened enough that I broke free, stepping out of his reach and lifting my guard. We circled each other, both of us waiting for the other to make a move.

When nothing happened, I sent a side kick, barely grazing his side before he grabbed my ankle, tugging me to the ground. I rolled, getting up and flipping my hair out of my face. He sent a smile my way, completely at ease. I adjusted my tapes one last time, popping my knuckles and aiming a session of punches at his face. He dodged both those and the kick I sent to his stomach, grabbing my wrists and twisting them. I hissed in pain, seeing his eyes darken. He let go of my wrists and I huffed.

He doesn't want to truly hurt me.

Ten minutes later, neither of us had caught our breaths or even try to control our arousal. We were both fighting, not caring who won. We were using each other as a distraction from our issues, and something told me that Alexander was fine with that. Fighting had always been a coping way for me, a way to beat up myself until I passed out. I don't remember if Alexnader ever knew that, but I sure as hell still do it.

Somehow, I knew how to predict his moves. I knew what he was going to do, and I knew how he was going to do it. Fighting with him felt as familiar as fucking with him had felt. I grabbed his fist as it soared at me, holding it up and delivering a few punches to his core, the hard muscle hurting my knuckles. Alexander twisted his wrist, grabbing my arm and using his leg to try and trip me. I nimbly jumped over his leg.

"Not going to punch me?" I demanded, a little out of breath. Alexander pointed to my hip.

"You're injured, love." I rolled my eyes.