Page 75 of A Fighter’s Love

“Oh God…” Dale groaned then stilled. “That…is…it.”

“So fucking sexy,” Jackson said by his ear.

Another long groan. Dale came inside her. His eyes were closed and his lips drawn back. He tipped his head to the ceiling. “Ahhhh…”

Jackson was pressed up against them, his hand still under Jenny’s buttocks. His opposite shoulder was shifting, as he pumped his fingers in and out of Dale’s ass.

Dale’s hips were twitching in time with Jackson’s movements. He was still coming. His groans rattled through his chest onto hers.

She cupped his face as bliss washed over his features.

Eventually Jackson stilled.

Dale opened his eyes.

It seemed to take him a moment to focus.

“Hey,” she said, kissing the sore spot on his cheek.

He was breathing hard and when she pulled back, Jackson was there to kiss him too.

“That was fucking hot,” Jackson said. “You two are as on fire together as I thought you’d be. I couldn’t keep my hands off you.”

“I could tell,” Dale said. “You could have warned me.”

“Why? It’s more fun when it’s unexpected.” Jackson grinned and stepped back, away from them. He reached for a bar of soap.

Dale gently withdrew and lowered Jenny to the floor.

She kept her hands on his face.

“You okay?” he asked, touching his nose to hers.

“How could I not be? I’m in the shower with the two guys I adore most in the world. Feels pretty perfect.”

“I’m glad you think so.” He kissed her.

“Mmm, perfect is a good word.” Jackson moved in behind her and cupped her breasts. The soapy scent of suds drifted up. When she looked down her breasts were covered in white bubbles and he was massaging them.

“Need to clean you up, dirty girl,” he said against her ear then nipped her lobe.

She squirmed and giggled.

Dale pressed close, trapping her against Jackson. He began to rub her breasts too and she shut her eyes and sighed.

She didn’t think she’d ever get enough of being between them.

Chapter Eighteen

Friday came around too quickly for Jenny. Her anxiety about the big fight had grown with each passing day. It was as if seeing Dale in the ring with Billy—and his cuts and bruises afterward—had made it all the more real for her.

Jackson and Grinder were going to have a good try at pummeling each other to knockout.

She left Wainwright and Bramon’s a little later than planned, then had to rush to get home, shower, eat, and make her way to the gym. Although the fight wasn’t due to start until ten o’clock she had to be there when doors opened at eight.

“Hey,” Billy said as she stepped in. He wore smart trousers and a white shirt and blue tie. But even dressed civilly nothing could hide his beaten up face with its fading bruises and dark scab on his brow.

“Hello, Billy.” She smiled, a little, and hoped he’d stick to his word and not hassle her anymore, or presume he still had a chance. It was the last thing she needed now when her worries were all about Jackson getting through the fight with as little damage as possible to his beautiful body.

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