Page 75 of Until You're Mine
One second ground out in the air, then two and three. I closed my eyes and dove back in, kissing his lips and giving in to the desire searing its way through my body. We deserved one more time.
His hands gripped my ass, and as he lifted me into his arms, I wrapped my legs around his waist. Impatient and needy after four days without, I rubbed myself against his gloriously hard length, satisfaction coursing through me at his throaty groan.
He stumbled into his bedroom and then we fell to the bed, a tangle of groping limbs. He stripped me bare, in every possible way, and after we’d shed our clothes, he crawled over me, his delicious weight pinning me to the mattress. Our eyes locked as we moved together, a perfectly choreographed routine ensuring maximum pleasure. Sweat slicked our bodies, our ragged breaths came faster and faster, and still we dragged it out as long as we could, clinging to the here and now because we both knew things were about to change.
“I don’t think I can hold on any longer,” I said, my head lolling back when he hit that spot that drove me crazy.
“Then let go.” Shane drove into me, deeper and harder, the pressure that’d built between us screeching toward the tipping point. He roughly kissed my mouth, a kiss that was pleasure and pain, lips and teeth and scruff and more passion than I’d ever experienced, and I let go.
His name spilled from my lips as I reached a whole new level of ecstasy, the aftershocks tumbling through me one after another, so close I could hardly tell where one ended and the next began. I clung on to him, my fingernails digging into his back, then I dragged them down, scoring lines for him to remember me by. His control snapped, and I arched my hips, meeting him so we could come down together.
After dropping a kiss on my lips, Shane shifted to the side of me, pulling me onto his chest as he fell to the bed. He held me against him extra tightly, like he never planned on letting go. I closed my eyes and soaked in every detail, from how amazing it felt to be in his arms, to his scent, to the steady sound of his heart beating away inside his massive chest. Then I silently chantedbe strong, be strong, be strong…
Chapter Forty-Four
Shane
After being in countless fights in my life of every kind—street, professional, planned, impromptu—I recognized the shift in the air. Instinctively I knew that Brooklyn and I were heading for a fight, and I wanted to freeze time and just stay like this forever. With her in my arms and the rest of the world far, far away.
She rolled off me and my muscles tensed. I needed to decide if I should block or strike, but how could I do anything when she was getting dressed, so much raw pain in her features that the ache echoed through my chest?
Since I didn’t want to bring a cock to a gunfight, I pulled on my boxer briefs and decided I’d risk not having the protection of my shirt and pants.
Every methodical move Brooklyn made drove me closer to the brink of insanity. “If you don’t say something soon, I’m gonna lose my shit.” I was probably going to lose it either way.
The hard purse of her lips made me want to take it back. To beg her not to say anything that’d ruin me. “My paintings were selected for this big art show in San Francisco called the Golden City Art Exhibition—remember, I mentioned I’d submitted them when I showed them to you. Anyway, when I entered them, I wanted to believe they’d get picked in spite of the overwhelming odds, but the truth is, I didn’t. Not really. A lot of things I didn’t believe would happen this summer did.”
The news gave me emotional whiplash. What was the catch? Where was the brewing storm I felt crackling in the air? “That’s awesome. I’m not surprised. Your work is fantastic.”
Unshed tears made her eyes gloss over. “You know when it is? The exhibition?”
I bit back the sarcasticHow the hell would I know?that wanted to explode out of me and forced my breath to even out. “When is it?”
“The same night as your fight with Conrad.”
My lungs caved in on themselves. When I’d imagined winning that fight, I’d always imagined Brooklyn in the crowd, cheering me on. Her by my side when I celebrated my victory and the second leg of my very long, very successful career. No more has-been status for me. “That sucks, and of course I want you to be there”—you have no idea how badly—“but I understand that you won’t be able to make that one.”
“It’s not just that fight, though. It’s important that we have our priorities in order. Both of us.”
“I’m planning on training my ass off, spending time with you, and winning that fight so I can land the next one. My priorities are in order.”
Brooklyn ran a hand through her hair, her gaze barely touching me before flickering to the door. “You can’t tell me you haven’t been more distracted since we crossed into more. We’ve joked about it, but it’s crunch time, and there isn’t time for jokes.”
“This feels like a joke, but I gotta say, it’s not a fucking funny one.”
She tilted her head.
“Don’t give me your disappointed look, like you expected me to be a bigger person,” I said, panic and anger forming a corrosive mix that burned through me. “I jumped all in, and you wrote us off before we even started.”
“That’s not true. I tried, but I can already see it’s not going to work.” She sucked in a breath, then closed her eyes and blew it out. When her eyelids opened, she looked more through me than at me. “I’ve been down this road before, with my dad, with my ex. I stay on the sidelines while fighting takes center stage. Only I won’t put off my dreams, so I won’t be on the sidelines. I’ll be in San Francisco, painting and completing an internship at an art gallery that I hope will display my work one day. You’ll be fighting your way up to the top, and Shane, I want that for you. But the nights I’m not there to celebrate with you will stack up, and there will be a ton of other pretty girls lining up to celebrate with you.”
I restrained the raging beast inside that wanted to be let loose and did my best to remain calm. “And you don’t think I’m strong enough to keep it in my pants?”
She flinched. “I’ve seen it time and time again. Guys who adore their wives and kiss them good-bye, and then they get on the road and…” She shrugged, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “I watched my mom brush it off like it was okay, but it wasn’t, and I won’t live that life. Our lives are going different ways—we both knew that from the beginning.”
I rounded the bed. “But things have changed.”
“They have,” she said. “Now you’ve got a huge fight lined up, and I have a big art show coming up, and I know firsthand that long-distance relationships don’t work. You need to focus, and I need to go get my life in order up north. Why set ourselves up for failure?”
