Page 50 of A Fighter’s Love

That’s what I want.

She paused and looked in the mirror. She’d found over time her needs had often been kept buried, hidden, but not anymore. This new need and desire was profound, and couldn’t be ignored.

Jackson and Dale were in love and enjoying a physical relationship and she wanted to be part of that. Why shouldn’t she? They’d already established they were making a go of a threesome relationship. She wasn’t completely sure of the logistics in the bedroom, but the physical aspect of Dale and Jackson’s love for each other wasn’t something that could be hidden from her.

That just wouldn’t work.

She dragged on skinny jeans, added a patent black belt and a gold necklace with a small heart pendent. It took only a few minutes to fluff her hair and fix her makeup then she added a spritz of fruity-scented perfume.

When she glanced at the clock she realized it was time for her cab. So after grabbing the food she headed out of the apartment, scowling at the bin and the upended flowers as she went.

Twenty minutes later Jenny was standing outside a slick glass, river front apartment block calledThames View. She pressed the intercom to flat twenty-six.

“Hey, pretty lady,” Jackson’s voice.

“Hi, can you let me in?”

“Sure. It’s level five.”

“Thanks.”

The door buzzed and Jenny opened it. Carrying her load of shopping, she took the elevator. It was a swanky, smarter than hers with smoky mirrors and holding the scent of polish. There was a neat red carpet withThames Viewstamped onto it.

Cleary Dale’s construction business gave him a good return.

As the elevator doors opened a large figure loomed before her.

Jackson.

“Hey, babe,” he said with a grin. “Let me take those.”

She stepped out and he simultaneously kissed her cheek and took the heavy bags.

“Thanks,” she said with a smile. He was wearing a different aftershave and its sandalwood smell warmed her nose.

“This way,” he said, nodding to the right. “Dale’s not home yet.”

“Oh, okay. Problem at work?”

“Not a problem. He’s had a planning inspector on site, and these things often take longer than expected, so he always tells me.”

“Ah, I see.”

He pushed open a door that had been left ajar. “In you go.”

She stepped past him into a light and airy apartment. Unlike her cozy, full to the brim one that was an eclectic mix of colors, patterns and designs, this was minimalist and sleek with a long white leather sofa, wall-mounted TV and a glass bookshelf. The views over the River Thames were stunning. “Nice,” she said.

“Yeah, you can tell he’s in the job of creating homes, eh.” Jackson stepped past her into what she guessed was the kitchen.

She followed, admiring Jackson’s ass as she went. He wore faded denims, the left back pocket ripped and the stitches loose. The black t-shirt he wore was untucked and as her gaze traveled upward she appreciated how tight it was over his thick shoulders and the way it hugged his biceps. He was one hot bloke not least because he was so comfortable in his big body and moved with such grace. She didn’t imagine he had a vain bone in him. He was always casual and at ease.

He dumped the bags on an island topped with a shiny granite surface. This room had more views of the river as it meandered through the city, and tonight the setting sun had turned the water from its usual mud brown to a rich golden.

“This is lovely,” she said.

“Do you still want to cook?” Jackson asked, reaching into a cupboard and plucking out a wine glass. “We could get takeout.”

“Are you kidding? Cook in here? It will be a treat.”

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