Page 33 of The Way We Fight

“I thought that was what we were doing, though. Fighting?”

He laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not talking about the way we fight.”

“Well just so we are clear, I don’t have a calendar, or men to fill it up with.”

“I know. You wouldn’t be such a lousy ref if you were getting laid regularly.”

I sat up quickly, ready to fight with him all over again. “You are an asshole. I am fucking good at my job.”

He shrugged and laughed like he hadn’t just insulted me. “You called a better second half last weekend, that’s for sure.”

“You sorry piece of…” I trailed off, making my way on top of him and using my bare fist to try hitting his face. He grabbed my wrists and held on as I squirmed to get free, trying to imagine what his boss would say when he had new bruises that weekend.

We were both naked, so my pussy, and a culmination of both our cum started to smear on his stomach. At first, I didn’t notice but when I did, just the thought was making me want to fuck him all over again. It was weird, going from fight to fuck, back to fight, and then back to fuck again. I couldn't keep up with my emotions.

I stopped moving, trying to let him think I was over it, but the stillness only allowed him to push his pelvis up enough to show me how hard he was again. I had almost forgotten how virile Levi was–always ready when I was back in New York.

He hesitantly let my wrists go and moved his hands to my hips. He started pushing and pulling me, back and forth, my clit finding friction on his abs. We both stayed quiet but gave in as I used his body to pleasure my own.

After a few minutes, I lifted to my knees to raise myself above him and he aligned his cock with me once again. I slowly slid down onto him, staying as quiet as I could. Even Levi was silent despite how good we both felt when we connected.

Placing my hands on his chest, I started moving, staying slow until I couldn't take it anymore. Once I started speeding up, it was harder for us both to keep quiet. Moans echoed around the gym, reminded me we were on the dirty mat, with dirty bodies from our workouts.

“Mine,” Levi said again, the way he did during round one.

We both immediately let go, coming again like it was the first time ever between us. Every time felt like that first time. A blast of something prodigious but nothing we could explain or put into words. Nothing we ever even mentioned. But it was there in New York, there in my locker room, there in the corner of the ring, and there on that mat as we let ourselves soak in that sensation.

I tried rolling off of Levi, but he held me in place and sat up. We were face to face again, breathing heavily. It seemed too intimate for two people that were supposed to be fighting, but I was trapped in his gaze.

When his breathing slowed, he pushed me back and held himself inside of me while he lifted us both from the mat. It was a true show of his strength and that he was definitely an athlete. I wrapped my legs around him and he made his way out of the ring, under the ropes, and down the steps. He held on tight, making sure his cock stayed securely inside of me until we were in the men’s locker room.

Just a couple weeks before, we stood face to face in that locker room and barely knew what to say to one another. Now we were intertwined and connected, neither of us trying to let the other one go.

Levi carried me straight into the showers and turned the cold water on over our heads, a screech coming from us both as we adjusted. Finally, he let me slide down his body and onto my feet. He grabbed some body wash that I wasn't even sure where it came from, but it was welcomed after being on the dirty mat.

He lathered the soap into his hand and quietly cleansed my body as I watched on in awe. It was another moment of intimacy that was deeper than even New York gave us. I wondered if he even realized what was happening or how it felt.

I had to make sure I didn't fall into a trap of lust that was blurred by lines we never discussed, only ones we knew we couldn't cross. Levi was right though, when the gloves were on, it felt like a fight–safer, easier to forget. Once my gloves were off, it was more, and that scared me into backing away from his hands under the cascade of water.

“What's wrong?” he asked, his hands in the air and soap dripping from them.

“Nothing, I just figured now that we have had our fun it's time to get back to business.”

His face fell slightly but he recovered. His soapy hands started rubbing his own body and I watched on as he lathered his cock and stroked himself clean. “Well go ahead and run then, Apple Parks. Knowing I can have that pussy whenever I want makes it easier to say good night.”

I tilted my head. “I never agreed to that.”

“You may not have said the words, but you agreed.”

“You're delusional if you think you can snap your fingers and I will come running with a wet pussy.” I saidthosewords, but I didn't even believe myself. I knew if he called, I would go running and shed my clothes as I went.

He turned the shower off and grabbed a towel, wiping himself dry. I just stood there with my arms crossed, looking put off by his entitled suggestion. He smiled at me, but he never said another word. When he was all dry, he tossed the towel at me and walked off.

“See you Sunday,” he turned back and smiled at me before opening the door to head naked into the gym. “During half time,” he added, his suggestion dripping heavily.

I started to yell, “No,” that if he was implying he could have me whenever he wanted me, then no, I said no. But deep down, I was already trying to remember if the female official’s locker room was near the visiting team’s corridor in Chicago. If it would be easy to pull him into my space and have him bend me over the couch.

It took me entirely too long to steel myself against anything happening between us on our trip to Chicago. By the time I left the locker room, he was long gone. He had grabbed his clothes and let himself out of the gym while I walked around naked, praying Bobby never sprung for those cameras he talked about a few months back.

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