Falling Under
Page 54

 Lauren Dane

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Duke walked her out to her truck. “I want to hear how everything went today. You were later coming back than you thought you’d be.”
“You’re so very pretty, but even that face can’t persuade me to go into my day in this parking lot right now.”
He hugged her and she let him, needing it. “You know there’s no racing tonight. If you want to see me fight, we’ll be at the gym I pointed out to you when we got Indian food the other day. Remember?”
Carmella nodded, increasingly curious.
“Seven. We’ll be there until nine or so.”
That might be exactly what she needed. To see Duke, sweaty and muscly, bouncing around and fighting. It didn’t matter how weird it might have sounded. She only knew by that point that the idea made her wet, and after her day, that was pretty much a win.
“All right. It’s cool that I come, though? Like you’re not violating some code?” Carmella asked.
“It’s not like Fight Club. We don’t advertise on TV or have business cards with the info on them. But we’re not doing anything illegal. Everyone is a legal adult. We’re all past the point where we think girls have cooties.”
That made her smile. “You’re so full of it.”
“I totally am. I’ll make you pancakes at my house afterward. I have a soup bone for Ginger too.”
That he thought of her dog made her want to jump him right then and there.
“All right, all right. I’ll be there between seven and nine. Stop being so perfect.”
He kissed her until she was only capable of hanging on to keep from falling over. Damn, the man was good.
After getting dressed and changing four times, Carmella headed out to the gym. It was eight so maybe he’d already fought. She hoped not, but she hadn’t wanted to arrive too early either.
It wasn’t like there was an etiquette book for these situations.
She took the side door like he’d suggested. Easy to find as the words SIDE DOOR had been painted on the wall in two-foot-high letters. Inside it smelled like sweat, dirty socks, leather, vinyl, and sneakers.
And in one far corner was a raised fighting ring with two men inside it. Asa was one of them and Duane, one of the mechanics at the shop, was the other.
Carmella made her way over to watch, looking for Duke and not wanting to make a spectacle of herself so she kept quiet.
Even if she hadn’t, no one would have heard her over the shouts from the spectators.
PJ’s hair was bright blue as she stood next to a few of their friends. “It’s handy to be able to find you so easily in a crowd,” Carmella said as she approached.
“Totally. I’m glad to see you. Duke fought earlier but he’ll be up again soon. For now, watch my honey deliver a beat down. I can’t believe I resisted watching this stuff for so long.”
Carmella lost herself in the ritualized violence in the ring. In the oddly beautiful grace of it. PJ shouted her encouragement to Asa, but Carmella remained silent. Waiting.
Duke saw her before she noticed him. Her gaze skimmed over the crowd, looking for him. Pride bloomed in his chest as she turned and saw him, smiling. She gave him two thumbs up as he climbed into the ring.
Mick and Asa were in a different class than he was. They were beefy and muscular while Duke was leaner. He was also lighting quick, with a hard head and a high pain tolerance. His opponent was a really good fighter with great instincts who’d give Duke a run for his money. He might even be better than Duke. But that didn’t matter because Duke was going to win. He would win as a present to Carmella.
Once the bell rang, all his attention flowed to the fight. Where his hands and feet were. Where his opponent was. He kept his movements fluid and tried to remember to trust his body and training.
Even so, the punches the guy landed would leave some bruises. Duke pushed the pain away and redoubled his focus. His strikes continued to land until the bell rang. Once more and a very lucky punch sent Duke’s opponent to the mat.
Once the match was called in his favor, he headed straight to Carmella. He wanted to hug her and kiss every bit of her, but he was bloody and sweaty so he resisted.
“Congratulations!” Her smile sent a shiver through him.
“I’m sweaty, don’t hug me. I’ll be cleaned up in a few minutes.” She ignored him, throwing herself into his arms. “I’ll hug you if I want.”
“I’m all stinky, though, and you’re gorgeous and smell good.”
She looked up, her gaze to his. “I know.”
Oh. It was like that. Well, okay then. He could handle that.
“Give me five minutes. I just need to grab my stuff and I’ll meet you back at my house. Remember, I’m making pancakes.”
“After you make me come,” she whispered in his ear.
“As you command, my lady.”
Hot damn.
CHAPTER Nineteen
She headed home after managing to extricate herself from PJ and their friends. It was nice to visit and all, but she had some sex to do with a hot man. He’d been on fire in the ring. Steady, feral, he moved like the predator he was.
The sweatier and more brutal he’d gotten, fists flying, ducking and weaving, the hotter it had made her for the Duke that lived just beneath the cool veneer.
By the time she rolled up, his car was in his driveway and he leaned against the trunk.
Shirtless.
A neck of a beer dangling between two fingers as he waited for her.
Every single dirty bad-boy fuck fantasy anyone ever had was living and breathing just a few feet away.