“One! Two!”
“Don’t you dare!” He could hear her voice followed by the sound of the metal locks unlatching. She flung open the door to him as he stepped inside, not even caring for an invite. She looked tired and paler than before. She was wearing a blue and purple sundress covered by a tan painter’s apron. Small bits of red paint dotted her face like freckles. A streak of gold was tangled in her hair.
The two looked at each other, each unsure of what to say next or how to proceed. This was new, uncharted territory. Neither of them wished to disturb it.
Micah spoke first, lowering his voice, “I know what Dean said,” he reiterated it, emphasizing the name of his coach. “He did this to us.”
“He was right, though. Wasn’t he? I got out of the picture, and you became this champion overnight.” She looked like a child being admonished.
“No. No!” He raised his voice as his hands shot to his head. He stepped closer to her, as she moved away in response. He cornered her against the wall of the living room. “Alice. Please, listen to me. He told you all of that to get you to leave. He wants me to be this unfeeling, uncaring machine. I don’t want to be that anymore. I don’t want to be just a fighter. I want something more, and I want it with you.”
She shook her head, unbelieving his words. “Micah…” It was all that she could say.
“Being in the ring is all I knew, but now I know you. I know that you are more than just a title or a picture for my mantle. You, Alice, are what I am supposed to be fighting for. Let me fight for you. Screw it if I win matches or make it big. You are all that matters.”
His longer index finger lifted her chin further towards her face. “Alice. It’s you.”
She looked into the pools of his eyes, deep and unyielding. Her own hand reached out to his chest feeling the trickles of sweat that had pooled on his skin. She took him in once more, the way his long, strong arms protected, not held her in her place.
Her voice, sweet and innocent spoke with such certainty, “I want you too, Micah.”
Without another word spoken, he kissed her, his hands rustling through her hair and guiding her face and neck to meet his. The two slipped down the back of her dress as she gave in, washing herself in his warmth. He pulled her closer, tighter, longing to feel every inch of her body tangled in his own. He walked backwards towards her bedroom, as she followed, still locked.
He found the zipper of her dress and yanked down gently, as the dress peeled off of her body and onto her bedroom floor. She climbed on her undone bed, as he pressed his weight onto her. He nibbled on her ear, repeatedly whispering, “It’s you. It’s you. It’s you.”
Her foot edged its way to the waistband of his pants as she slid the training shorts off of his body. She could feel that he was already ready, but her hand still teased the skin around his length, softly stroking the inches as he moaned into her shoulder. He bit down onto her flesh as she wrapped her entire hand around, gently pulling and pushing rhythmically.
His breath arched and spiked, as she softly kissed the scars around his chest and shoulder blades. Without any hesitation, she effortlessly guided him into her in time with the motions of her hands. The curves of her pussy were warm and damp, as he let out a powerful roar. He dived in, the call of her beckoning him further inside. Her hips circled, creating an undertow with each of his pushes.
As the two sped up, she lifted herself to meet him, grasping his face with her hand and pulling him farther into her, as he fell fast into her bare chest. His lips teased her pink nipples, circling around with the timing of his thrust. Her hands grasped the pillows around her head, as the sensation of him inside her built further and further to her climax.
She cried out his name over and over again. Each time she
“Don’t you dare!” He could hear her voice followed by the sound of the metal locks unlatching. She flung open the door to him as he stepped inside, not even caring for an invite. She looked tired and paler than before. She was wearing a blue and purple sundress covered by a tan painter’s apron. Small bits of red paint dotted her face like freckles. A streak of gold was tangled in her hair.
The two looked at each other, each unsure of what to say next or how to proceed. This was new, uncharted territory. Neither of them wished to disturb it.
Micah spoke first, lowering his voice, “I know what Dean said,” he reiterated it, emphasizing the name of his coach. “He did this to us.”
“He was right, though. Wasn’t he? I got out of the picture, and you became this champion overnight.” She looked like a child being admonished.
“No. No!” He raised his voice as his hands shot to his head. He stepped closer to her, as she moved away in response. He cornered her against the wall of the living room. “Alice. Please, listen to me. He told you all of that to get you to leave. He wants me to be this unfeeling, uncaring machine. I don’t want to be that anymore. I don’t want to be just a fighter. I want something more, and I want it with you.”
She shook her head, unbelieving his words. “Micah…” It was all that she could say.
“Being in the ring is all I knew, but now I know you. I know that you are more than just a title or a picture for my mantle. You, Alice, are what I am supposed to be fighting for. Let me fight for you. Screw it if I win matches or make it big. You are all that matters.”
His longer index finger lifted her chin further towards her face. “Alice. It’s you.”
She looked into the pools of his eyes, deep and unyielding. Her own hand reached out to his chest feeling the trickles of sweat that had pooled on his skin. She took him in once more, the way his long, strong arms protected, not held her in her place.
Her voice, sweet and innocent spoke with such certainty, “I want you too, Micah.”
Without another word spoken, he kissed her, his hands rustling through her hair and guiding her face and neck to meet his. The two slipped down the back of her dress as she gave in, washing herself in his warmth. He pulled her closer, tighter, longing to feel every inch of her body tangled in his own. He walked backwards towards her bedroom, as she followed, still locked.
He found the zipper of her dress and yanked down gently, as the dress peeled off of her body and onto her bedroom floor. She climbed on her undone bed, as he pressed his weight onto her. He nibbled on her ear, repeatedly whispering, “It’s you. It’s you. It’s you.”
Her foot edged its way to the waistband of his pants as she slid the training shorts off of his body. She could feel that he was already ready, but her hand still teased the skin around his length, softly stroking the inches as he moaned into her shoulder. He bit down onto her flesh as she wrapped her entire hand around, gently pulling and pushing rhythmically.
His breath arched and spiked, as she softly kissed the scars around his chest and shoulder blades. Without any hesitation, she effortlessly guided him into her in time with the motions of her hands. The curves of her pussy were warm and damp, as he let out a powerful roar. He dived in, the call of her beckoning him further inside. Her hips circled, creating an undertow with each of his pushes.
As the two sped up, she lifted herself to meet him, grasping his face with her hand and pulling him farther into her, as he fell fast into her bare chest. His lips teased her pink nipples, circling around with the timing of his thrust. Her hands grasped the pillows around her head, as the sensation of him inside her built further and further to her climax.
She cried out his name over and over again. Each time she
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