“This is the part where I’m supposed to say I was born ready?” she sasses.
My lips pull up with a smile. “Let’s play a game.”
“Okay . . .”
“Trust me?” I raise one eyebrow.
“With that look? Hell, no.”
“Come on, Mia. It’ll be fun. I promise.”
“Ha! I’ll be the judge of that.”
“You’re getting really good at this. Remember the advanced moves we went over last week? I want you to try them again. Repetition is everything. Your body needs to remember how to act without your brain having to think about it. I’m going to come at you, just like we’ve done before, but this time with a little extra challenge. You block me or get out of my hold, and you win the round. I capture you in a hold, I win.”
“Sounds easy enough. What are we competing for?”
Her mind is right where mine is. God, I like this woman. “Kisses.”
“That’s stupid. I’m out.” Her eyes roll and she huffs out a breath.
“Hold up. That’s only for each round I win. Don’t you want to know what you get?”
“I hope it’s better than some stupid kiss.”
“It sure is.” My smile holds but my entire body warms with what I have in store. “I make you come. With my mouth.”
“In here?” Now she looks partially alarmed, her brow rising as her glance darts around the gym.
“Oh, that’s the other caveat. Lights off.” I wink and jog over to the switches to blanket the space in darkness.
“Matt . . .” It’s a warning and I get it. She’s not into this. Yet.
“You ready? Because I’m coming for you in three . . . two . . . one . . .” Last time we practiced more realistic scenarios Mia panicked, but this time she doesn’t need a reminder. I grab for her wrists and she escapes easily. I try to take her from behind, but she doesn’t give me her back. Finally, I resort to charging her body with mine, only I soften the fall by rolling us so we land on my back.
“Gotcha,” I say and, cupping her chin with my palm, pull her down for a sweet kiss. Before I can release her, Mia pulls away and stands.
“That wasn’t fair. I got out twice before you could pin me. That’s two for me.” God, I love her competitive nature.
“Nope, that doesn’t count. Let’s go again.”
“I see how it is. You make the rules and call the shots.” Her scoff meets me through the darkness and I can see the outline of her frown thanks to the streetlights through the window.
“Well, it is my game.” I let a chuckle escape my lips, and before she can complain I reach out to try and trap her arm. Deflected. Again and again. I advance and she retreats. Fuck if she’s not getting me hot with her badass skills. I’ve only been her instructor for a few weeks but she’s soaked in every bit of information. I’m so damn impressed.
Finally, I catch her in a hold, once again on the ground where her body can’t quite compete with my size. Technically I win, but really, we both know I’m not winning until I taste her cum on my mouth.
Of course I claim my kiss first, if only because I know it irritates her. “I won,” I whisper and my lips brush against hers. She tries to pull away so I stop. “What? Not a fan of kissing?”
“Actually, no.” The skin between her eyebrows crinkles with her scowl, and even though it’s dim inside, my eyes adjust to see through the ambient light.
“Challenge accepted.” My lips brush chastely against hers.
“Oh, I’m pretty set in my ways when it comes to swapping spit,” she says so I move my lips to the side of her face, where I know they’ll be better appreciated.
“Allow me to sway the jury, or at the very least give it my best shot,” I murmur against her earlobe. Her body shudders with the movement and I trail more kisses down her throat until I find the valley between her breasts.
“I guess there’s nothing wrong with that.” She threads her fingers in my hair.
I pause to look at her. “Just call me the little engine that could.”
“I’m absolutely certain no woman in her right mind would use the word little to describe anything about you.” She giggles and squirms as I pull her shirt up. With my lips I trace imaginary lines on her skin, from her rib cage and across her navel to the opposite hip.
“Why Mia, that’s awfully naughty of you.” I nuzzle my face under the waistband of her jeans, wishing they were already off.
Her grip tightens in my hair. “Maybe you should shut up and teach me a lesson.”
“Hell, yeah.” My fingers undo the button and zipper of her jeans and I sit up enough to drag them off her body, along with her panties. I’m still wearing my workout shorts but I don’t remove them because this is all about her pleasure. I’m determined to get her off several times before chasing my own release. Not at all in a rush, I take my time kissing down the inside of one thigh, enjoying the way she tries to hold still but can’t quite manage it, and those breathy little moans that leave her throat when my face meets the sensitive flesh of her center.
“Just so we’re clear, this is not a date.” She pushes up to her elbows and looks down at me as I begin to eat her out. It only takes a few moments before her head falls back with pleasure and her moans overpower the assault my mouth makes against her slick folds.
I swipe my tongue back and forth over her bundle of nerves until she calls my name aloud, and only then do I lift my head. I blow softly against her center until she meets my eyes. “Oh, Mia. When it’s a date, you’ll know.”
When it comes to relationships I’ve been told I’m a little . . .
Not unlike my undead heart.
But that’s a compliment, really, because I love all things zombie-related. Comics, television, and books. Video games, too. How can any guy live up to the fiction fantasy that consumes my mind?
Simple answer. He can’t.
It’s a contributing factor to the reason I’m single and living in the city at age thirty-four. I’m hard to get close to and even my cat doesn’t like to snuggle, but I’m perfectly satisfied with my life, career, and circle of friends. I haven’t met a man who comes close to slaying my heart, and I’ve given up the search.
So, when Matt Haywood crashes into my life with his muscled chest, lack of imagination, and know-it-all attitude, I’m not impressed. No, I’m more than perturbed. I’d rather he stayed out of my life, but that doesn’t happen. He’s the fallen fighter I don’t want to root for, but find myself anyway. He’s also wrestling his way much closer to my thoughts, hopes, and dreams than anyone before him ever dared.
There’s more to Matt than I first assumed, but we’re too different for this to work. Aren’t we? Then again, he’s fearless and brave and real. Maybe Matt holds the antidote to my undead heart.
Maybe I’m not so cold after all.
* * *
Mia thinks she’s cold, but my heart knows better, and I’ve made it my mission to prove her wrong.
I’ve gone up against the strongest of opponents. Fought for my life. But the battle I’m waging against the beauty and brains will be the greatest challenge of my life. Losing is not an option. Winning her heart is the ultimate prize.
I’ll prove to her how tough I can be.
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When she's not writing you will find her playing taxi cab to her children while belting out her favorite tunes, meeting friends or family for food and to share some laughs, or sweating it out in the gym. Kacey finds that picking up heavy weights repeatedly is good for her mental health as much as it is for the physical.
She has an unhealthy obsession with firefighters. It could be the pants. It could be the fire. It's just hot. On occasion she has been known to include them, without their knowledge, in her selfies outside the grocery store.
Kacey one day aspires to be a woman hand model in a sexy photo shoot. You know, the woman's hand raking across the muscular back or six pack stomach of the male fitness model. Yep, that hand.
Until that day comes she will continue writing sexy, flirty romance novels in hopes to bring others joy!