Page 2 of Crime Lord's Paradise

“Every day.”

That explained his even temper and ridiculous body. She trained in mixed martial arts, boxing, guns, and anything else Blade decided to throw at her. She had lost a lot of the baby weight she gained during her pregnancy, but she was nowhere close to having a six-pack.

As she put on her gloves, Gavin shrugged off his jacket and shirt. The light bounced off the fresh scar on his back that he received from a whip. Her hands fisted in the gloves. Fucking Steven. If she could kill him again, she would. She witnessed his death and even kicked his head after it was severed from his body, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would be. He had been gone for months, but the rage and pain still festered inside her. Steven forced her to change into a different person, and there was no going back to what she had been before he ripped their world apart. On days like this, when she felt as if she would explode, she longed for a place to let loose the way she had in the pit of Hell. That barbaric place allowed her to indulge in baser instincts she didn’t know she possessed.

Gavin walked toward her. She admired the ripple of muscles and took note of the bare feet peeking out from his slacks. She raised her gloves and got into her stance. His eyes warmed with approval as he raised his punching mitts.

“Let’s do this.”

He started her off with some basic boxing combinations. The sound of her glove making contact with his mitt was immensely satisfying.

“Harder,” he said, and she complied with relish.

Gavin kept her on her toes. His brand of training was more aggressive than Blade’s. His technique and fancy footwork told her she was in the ring with a master, as if she didn’t already know that. He handled swords with the same ease that he did guns. There was a lot to learn from her husband.

She didn't have the headspace to think about anything but survival. Sweat poured down her back, and her arms ached, but she didn't stop. She focused on landing accurate hits, being light on her feet, and not getting cornered. Every move he made, she countered. He called out the combinations, and she obeyed. Jab, cross, uppercut, cross.

He advanced, which forced her to retreat and then fight to regain ground. He called out a series of combinations, which caused her to duck and slip. He jabbed. Her reflexes saved her from a tap that would have knocked her on her ass. She knew she was in no danger since he was pulling his punches, but the near miss made her heart race. Gavin was built like a tank, and the largest opponent she had ever faced off with. He was pushing her to react instinctively. She struck out with a left hook that grazed his chin. He stepped back and stared at her for a long moment before he stripped off the mitts and then unbuckled his belt.

“Gavin!”

“What?”

He tossed the belt and unbuttoned his slacks. He didn’t pull down the zipper, but he didn't need to. He was stating his intentions as if his erection wasn’t obvious enough. Her body responded even though she didn’t want it to. It was hard not to ogle him when his body glistened with sweat. They were playing a mental and physical game that was stimulating in more ways than one.

He held up his palms. “Come here.”

She hesitated, eyes dipping to his bulge before she came within striking distance. When he gave her a new combination, she eased back into the exercise, tapping her gloves to his bare hands. She lost herself in the repetition and moved with him. She wasn’t prepared when he grabbed her oversized shirt and yanked her against him. His mouth landed on hers at the same time as he gripped her hair to keep her in place.

She wrenched their lips apart and winced when he tugged off her rubber band. Her hair cascaded around her. “Stop!”

“You think I can watch you fight and not fuck you?”

A solid left hook caught him on the ear and allowed her to dance backward. Her body tingled as he surveyed her with the eyes of a predator.

“You want to play dirty, baby girl?”

His voice caused goose bumps to erupt over her body. She’d gone too far, but that had never stopped her before.

“No, I don’t want to play dirty. I want to box,” she panted.

“No, you want to fight,” he corrected.

His stillness made her heart race. She took two more steps back even though distance wouldn’t make a difference. Her husband was a master of war. She’d seen him in action. She had no chance of escaping him, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try.

“Lucky for you, I’m willing to oblige,” he said gently.

The sound of his zipper being undone seemed unnaturally loud. She looked around, but there was nowhere to run. She backed onto some padded floor mats and Gavin followed, clad in only black boxers.

“Gavin, let me run on the treadmill for a half hour,” she said raggedly.

Her arms trembled from boxing, but her chest was still tight with emotion. She was hyped on adrenaline and close to burning herself out. If they trained a little longer, she might get a decent night of sleep.

“You’re overworking your body.”

“I’m fine!”

“You trained two hours this morning, and now you’re going at it again,” he said, revealing exactly how familiar he was with her daily activities. “You’re done.”

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