Page 153 of Rebel Hawke

“But what?”

But I can’t shake this feeling.

I shake my head. “Nothing. I would just hate to see anything happen…”

Atlas tugs on my arm, stopping me in the middle of the hallway, tilting my face up to his. “I’d rather save it for the ring, Little Bird.”

A relieved breath rushes from mouth. “Good.”

Because watching two light heavyweights go at it outside a ring, without any wraps or gloves, with no protection and no rules, isn’t anything I ever want to experience.

Especially if Atlas is involved.

It will be hard enough seeing him take the hits I know he will tomorrow.

Kennedy stops beside a closed door, slips a key into it, flips the lock, and pushes it open. “This will be your changing room and where you can wait until they’re ready for you. The media room is right across the hall. I’ll come get you when it’s time.”

I glance at a set of double doors across from us that aren’t open yet.

She steps over to Atlas, her gaze softening. “You know, I talked to Isaac and Bishop this morning.”

Atlas’ stance immediately stiffens. “Did you now?”

Nodding, she twirls her keys on her finger. “They said you lookedreallygood this week.”

He has.

The few times I’ve ducked in and caught any of his practices, he looked the best I’ve seen him. Even though the week before the fight always necessitates a shift from heavy workouts to lighter, more speed-focused ones, I can see the shift in him.

But it’s still there, that little twinge in his jaw as he accepts his cousin’s praise.

“You’ve got this, killer.” She thumps his chest twice with her fist, then walks away, breaking into a run to chase after an employee pushing a cart down the hallway away from us.

Atlas wraps his arm around my waist and tugs me into the room, kicking the door closed behind him before he spins and presses me up against it. His lips find mine; his tongue delves deep. Searching. Seeking. Plundering.

His cock hardens against my stomach, and I return the kiss, letting him maintain control, direct me where he wants me, take what he wants.

One hand shifts to my thighs, sliding up between them, and I tug on his hair until he pulls away.

He raises a brow. “What, Little Bird?”

As if he doesn’t know.

As if I can’t see what he’s trying to do.

What Kennedy said, what was meant as a compliment, shook him.

I return his raised brow in challenge. “You know you can’t use sex as a distraction every time you get nervous about something, right?”

Instead of being offended by my comment or arguing with me that he’snotnervous, he offers a lecherous grin. “Who says?”

“What about that whole no-sex-before-the-fight rule boxers follow?”

Atlas shakes his head, dragging his fingertips over my lips. “I don’t ascribe to that rule. I never understood the people who let themselves get all backed up for days, weeks, or months prior to a fight. I will haveplentyof stamina tomorrow night after I get done fucking you now.”

I raise a brow playfully. “You better not slack today, so save the energy.”

He growls softly, grinding his erection against me. “Have Ieverslacked, Little Bird?”

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