Page 78 of Strelitzias in Spring

The crowd becomes pandemonium; frantic energy seeping out of everyone’s pores as we collectively process what the hell just happened and how, not even eight seconds into the fight, Wolf laid that man out. The ref holds Wolf’s arm up, declaring him the winner as his team storms the stage. In the brightness surrounding him, I doubt he can see me, but I scream, cheering for the man who just ended his career so viciously that there’s no doubt his fight will be remembered.

Mrs. McCleery grips my arm, squeezing so tightly that I’m worried I’m going to be the next one down for the count. “Mrs. McCleery—”

“Aunt Glynnie, Rena, come on. We need to go back to the family section and wait for him before this place becomes a madhouse.” Keeping my forearm in her grasp, Wolf’s mother clutches her husband’s hand and leads us through the crowd. I’m thankful for the anchor she’s providing as we weave through the crowd, giving me direction as my emotions riot inside.

We break through the hoard and slip through a doorway, bringing us to a large hallway filled with all of the fighters’ family and close friends. Easing through a door, we’re deposited into a large room to wait.

Mrs. McCleery finally eases her grip off me, letting me go with a sharp gasp as Wolf enters the room thirty minutes later. I thought it would have taken longer for Wolf to bask in the adoration of his fans one last time, but one look at his face tells me that he’s ready to get out of here.

“Hey, Ma.” Wolf pulls his mom into a hug, dwarfing her with his size. Looking up, Wolf grabs his dad and pulls him in, too, embracing both of his parents in a sweet gesture that seems so out of place in the brutality of the night, yet still strangely right. I hang back, stepping next to Ava as Celeste runs at Wolf, throwing her arms around his waist.

“Holy shit, what a combo,” she rushes out, bouncing on her heels in excitement. “What a way to go, Wolfie. You annihilated him.”

“Yeah, he’s okay though, in case you were wondering, killer,” Wolf replies dryly, easing Celeste’s arms from around his body. He nods at Dante before making his way around the room. He thanks each cousin, each friend, and each person from his gym for their support, giving hugs, handshakes, and backslaps as necessary before making his way over to me. Though I’m the last person he approached, I feel the weight of everyone’s eyes intimately and shrink back, blushing furiously at the attention. Wolf sees what I’m trying to do and mumbles under his breath, “Don’t think so, princess,” and hauls me forward, crushing me against his body.

“I fucking knew it,” Celeste calls out behind me, and I blush deeper as I push against Wolf’s hold.

“Wolf,” I mutter, putting distance between us so that I can look into his face. “That fight was—” I pause, shaking my head to find the right word but coming up short. “Incredible.” The word doesn’t feel like it has enough currency to fully describe my thoughts, but it’s the best I have.

“Thanks, princess. You ready to get out of here?”

I furrow my brow, shaking my head at his question. “But, what about everyone here? They all came for you.”

“They’re going to the bar; my parents are probably going home. I just need some time to decompress. You game, princess?”

Swallowing down the denial lodged in my throat, my guilt at taking him away from the people who want to celebrate him is pushed aside, and I slip my hand into his. “Sure.”

33

Wolf

“You rode your bike to an MMA fight? What if you were hurt?” Serena doesn’t hide the incredulity in her voice, and I laugh at her disbelief.

“I knew I’d be fine.”

“That is the worst explanation for idiotic behavior. You can’t know that, especially not when your sole purpose was to hit and be hit.” I shrug, handing her the spare helmet. She huffs but slides it over her head and secures the chin strap. She grabs onto my shoulder as she slides behind me, molding her front to my back and circling her arms around my waist. The heat from her body seeps into my back, and the hard-on I get from the feel of her delicate hands around my body is embarrassing.

Reaching for her hands, I squeeze them before donning my helmet and easing the bike out of the lot. Her grip tightens on my abdomen when I start to pick up speed, driving us deeper into the pine barrens as we edge toward central Jersey. The further I drive, the harder she grips me, and the more convinced I am that I’m not going to make it home before the need to fuck her becomes unbearable. After a fight, I’m always riddled with adrenaline and a need that was usually slaked by whatever woman I was seeing or a random hook-up at a bar or party afterward. But there is something about knowing Serena was in the seats for me that makes the lust harder than normal to control.

The event center where the fight was held is an hour away from my house and forty minutes from Marymount University and Serena’s apartment, a drive through the Pinelands of New Jersey. When I was younger and first got my driver’s license, Trent and I used to explore the woods over here, hunting for the fabled Jersey Devil and swearing that the old cabin foundations we’d come across belonged to Mother Leeds.

Now, I’m jaded enough to realize that the stories and sightings were probably nothing more than a lone sighting of a great blue heron, but something about the drive through the desolate pines is eerie yet seductive. Making a quick decision, I drive onto the shoulder and then onto a path that’s obscured from the road and bring the bike a few yards into the tree line, where I know that no passing cars can see. Switching off the engine, I engage the kickstand and let the sound of the woods fill the air as I unlatch my helmet and stand from the bike.

“What are we doing here?”

I respond by unclipping her helmet and hanging it next to mine on the handlebar. Reaching for her, I lift her off the seat and guide her legs around my waist, securing them by locking her ankles behind me. Maneuvering my leg back over the seat, I sit with Serena straddling my lap and holding on to me for dear life.

“Wolf?”

“Princess, I’m fucking high on adrenaline—the natural kind—and don’t think I can go another minute before sinking into your cunt.” Snaking my hand between our bodies, I pop the button on her jeans and reach my hand inside, pleased as shit to find her panties soaked and the jeans loose enough to allow my hand and wrist to fit inside comfortably. Even without sight, my fingers find her clit immediately, like a beacon calling to them, and strum the nerves once, twice, before moving down to sink into her pussy.

Serena’s answering moans fuel me, and I lean forward, burying my head in the curve of her neck, lapping at the spot where her shoulder and neck meet. Using my free hand to lower the shoulders of her jacket, I slowly expose her skin, which seems to glow in the moonlight.

“Fucking beautiful,” I murmur. Biting down on the skin, I mimic the speed of my fingers with my mouth, pressing open-mouthed kisses against her flesh until I feel her body grind against my fingers.

“That’s right, princess, fuck my fingers.” I push into her harder, curling my fingers and rubbing against her inner walls. Her hips gyrate faster, grinding her pussy against my hand like she’d die without my fingers inside her. “You’re so fucking wet, Serena. I can’t wait to feel you come around my cock.” I stuff a third finger inside, stretching her in preparation for my cock.

“You want to come, princess?”

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