Page 51 of The Fight

But that’s my dad. Henry Cornell. The man who knows the system inside and out and has always played by the book in case he ever needs a favor.

From what I understand, he used his connections to arrange an early release. His team found a way to make it work, proving that the situation with Blake was, at the very least, a case of self-defense under the law. The murder happened in the heat of an altercation, and though Blake had attacked me first, it couldn’t necessarily be proven. Not with how I walked away and he didn’t. But legally speaking, I acted in a way that could be justified.

That’s how he got me out. With a little creativity, some legal maneuvering, and, of course, the reputation he’s built over the years. The fact I didn’t have a criminal record helped. The fact that he could pull in favors and convince people to look at things differently helped too. He made people see me as someone other than some hothead fighter.

I’m not stupid. I know I should’ve been charged with more. I know what I did and what happened in that shed. It could have sent me away for years. But Ol’ Henry kept his promise and made sure I didn’t have to sit in there any longer than I had to, and he made sure I wasn’t stuck with a felony that could haunt me for the rest of my life.

When I step outside, the sun is bright, and the air is blistering. My legs feel unsteady, but I keep moving forward. As I step further into the parking lot, the gates close behind me. The sound of the clearing buzzer and then the locks sliding into place echoes in my ears.

I turn, scanning the parking lot, and my eyes land on my Jeep parked over to the side in the back. I start toward it, my footsteps quickening with every step. As I get closer, the driver’s-side door opens, and Blair steps out.

She looks the same but different at the same time. Even with the little bit of distance between us, I can still see the black and purple bruises around her pale wrists. She looks happy, though. Happy to see me.

I don’t waste another second. I start jogging until I’m in front of her. Grabbing her, I pull her into my arms, then lift her off the ground. She lets out a surprised breath, but I squeeze her tighter, burying my face into her hair. The scent of her is enough to fill every part of me. Like a drug I didn’t even know I needed.

She doesn’t speak, but she doesn’t need to. Her arms tighten around me, her fingers digging into my back as if she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go.

I set her down gently but let my hands linger on her shoulders. My thumbs brush against her skin. I just need to feel her—I need to reassure myself that she’s real. That she’s safe.

“I love you,” I start. “I think I’ve always loved you. But the first time I said it… it didn’t feel like enough. It wasn’t enough for what I feel for you.”

“I love you,” she whispers, and I come completely undone.

I pull her back to me and let her legs snake around me. Moving forward, I press her back into the side of my Jeep and anchor my lips to hers. The same desperation and need from the very first time I ever kissed her is back and stronger than ever.

Her hands rake into my hair as mine explore every inch of her body I can touch. Her skin is so hot, so soft. Our lips continue to move, kissing, biting, licking. Everything is sloppy and desperate, but she tastes so fucking good.

Reaching between us, her hands start pushing down the front of my pants. “Right now. I need you right now, Shay,” she pants.

I don’t fucking object.

Unlocking one hand from her body, I push it between us, then slide my pants down just enough to let my cock spring free. Her small hand wraps around my length and strokes it, base to tip, and rubs it over the front of her shorts.

I finger the leg hole of her shorts, the sweatpant-like material easy to manipulate as I pull them to the side just enough so I can enter her. She’s already wet, but given the position and how tight she is, I know we’ll need a little more help.

Moving my hand, I hold it up in front of her face. “Spit on my hand, Dollface.”

She obeys beautifully, her eyes hooded with lust. I then move my hand back down and coat the tip of my dick.

Once my length is fully wet, I move her shorts again and line myself up. She shifts her hips upward, giving me more access, and I slide inside. Her pussy swallows me whole and pulsates around me.

“Oh my God,” she whispers against my cheek.

“Are you okay?”

She nods vigorously, bucking her hips lightly. “Don’t hold back.”

As if I could when it comes to her.

I immediately begin to pound into her, pressing her tight up against the side of my Jeep. I move my hand to her ass, sliding them under her shorts to grab her bare skin. The little breathy moans Blair makes have my control snapping, fucking her sohard I just know she’ll be able to still feel me tomorrow. My mouth finds her neck, tasting her sweat and that scent I’d be able to identify even in death. I bite down hard and then smirk at the profanity that falls from her mouth at the action.

“Fuck.”

“Such a dirty mouth,” I murmur, moving my own up to her lips. “I’m going to fuck it later.”

“Shay, please,” she moans, head falling back against the window.

“Please, what?” I ask in a taunting tone, moving one hand from her ass to where we’re joined, thumb brushing against her clit.

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