Reckless Love by Kendall Ryan


  MacKenzie

  Would someone please tell me how the heck that happened?

  One minute I was tending to Ian on the floor, and the next minute I was agreeing to go out with Chris, of all people. Sure, he was a nice guy, but I’d never thought of him that way. Not at all.

  When he’d asked me to have lunch with him, of course I said yes. Because that was what you did when your boss asked you out for lunch. But then he switched it to dinner.

  So here I was, walking by the river after dinner with my flipping boss. The night was cool and I had forgotten my sweater in his car, so I folded my arms in front of me to stay warm.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  I nodded. “A little.”

  He paused, took off his dinner jacket, and handed it to me. I shrugged it on. It was big and warm, and smelled strongly of Old Spice. A bit too strongly.

  “Thanks.” I started walking again, and Chris moved around me so that his cane was on the outside.

  “Do you mind if I ask what happened?” I motioned toward his leg.

  “No. Not at all. It was a fight.” He paused, then chuckled. “Of course it was a fight.”

  “When did it happen?”

  “Just over two years ago. I was on the fast track to becoming a pro fighter, and my manager lined me up with a guy—Billy Goat was his fighting name. He’d been fighting pro for a while, but because of the way he fought, my manager was sure I could take him. Heck, I was sure I could take him. Every defense weakness he had, I was strong at that offense. I should have won.”

  Chris stopped and leaned against the railing by the river. I wondered if his leg needed a break, or if he just wanted to stop and admire the view. So I stopped and leaned against the railing alongside him.

  “What happened?”

  “I was too cocky. I should have taken my time and waited for just the right moment to strike, but instead I went in fast and eager to get it done. I wore myself out in the first round, and by the second, I had become his punching bag.”

  I looked at Chris. He was a head taller than me, even in my six-inch heels. I couldn’t imagine anyone turning him into a punching bag.

  “He had me on the ground and was pummeling me. I should have tapped out of the fight and given it to him, but I wanted the win.” He winced as if the memory of that moment pained him more than anything. “I managed to wrench my way out of his hold and get back up on my feet. I was so out of it at that point, I hardly remember a thing other than trying to remain standing. And then there was an insane pain as he came at my knee from the side, full force with his foot.

  “His move was a foul, and lost him the fight. I won, but my knee refused to heal properly. I won the first and last fight of my pro career.” He forced a chuckle, but it looked like he wasn’t quite ready to laugh about the whole thing.

  “Wow,” I said. “You’ve tried physical therapy?”

  “Too much scar tissue and not enough tendon left. It won’t work right. I still do exercises with it, but it’ll never be back to where it was.”

  He leaned forward and took my hand in his. For the first time that night, I didn’t feel like I needed to pull away from him.

  “It’s all good, though. I found my calling. I opened up a gym, and it turns out I’m a much better trainer than I was a fighter.”

  Chris was a good trainer and well connected. I’d heard the guys at the gym talk about how his connections could help any good fighter work his way into the pro fighting circles.

  I looked at him, inspecting his face. He had a mostly smooth complexion with a few freckles sprinkled across his slightly crooked nose. He couldn’t be more than five years older than me, so he was maybe twenty-seven.

  Could I like this guy? It had been a while since I’d dated anyone. I hadn’t met anyone I really liked lately, but maybe I was just in a funk. Maybe I just needed to start dating again, and the liking, the wanting, would come. The way Chris looked at me told me he was more than game if I was.

  “I just secured Ian his first pro fight,” Chris said, his eyes lighting up with pride.

  My heart filled with pride too. Pride for Ian, who’d been working so hard for this, and he would finally get his break. “That’s great,” I said.

  “It’s still two and a half months away, but we’ll be heading to Vegas before you know it.”

  My mind flooded with thoughts of Ian. How would he feel when he heard the news? Most likely he’d play it off like it was no big deal. But he’d take this fight seriously and redouble his training so that when it came time for the fight, he’d be ready. I caught myself smiling at the thought.

  Chris wove his fingers through mine and pulled me away from the wall. “Let’s go grab a drink somewhere,” he said smoothly, his eyes hooded.

  A drink might loosen me up and help me stop my thoughts from constantly redirecting to Ian, but I was nervous that Chris would try to move too fast if we started drinking.

  “I have to work in the morning,” I said.

  Chris chuckled. “I know your boss. Maybe I can talk to him and see if he’ll let you come in late.”

  I stopped walking, making him stop too. “Chris…” I trailed off, not sure what I meant to say. “I don’t want any special treatment.” I let go of his hand. “I need this job, so I don’t want this”—I pointed at each of us—“to get in the way of keeping my job. If you can do this, without being my boss, then I…”

  God, what the hell was I trying to say?

  He grabbed my hand again. “MacKenzie, don’t worry about it. Don’t even think about it. If it makes you feel better, when we’re out, I’m not your boss. Anything that happens out here will not affect the way I treat you at the gym.”

  I nodded. It sounded like it could work. “Okay, sure,” I said. “So, like, say I pushed you into the river right now, would I still have a job tomorrow?”

  He chuckled at the ridiculousness of my being able to push him anywhere. “Of course. Your boss wouldn’t hold that against you. And if you went out with me for a drink tonight, he would still expect you to show up tomorrow morning at nine a.m. sharp.”

  “Sorry, not tonight, but maybe another time?” I smiled.

  “Another night, then.”

  We came back to his car and the alarm chirped. I wasn’t the chivalry police, but I still couldn’t help but notice that he was in the car before I had even opened the passenger door. I tried not to let it bug me.

  As Chris drove, I pulled at the hem of my dress. The bucket seats of his Mustang kept tugging the skirt up, insistent on giving him a show. The A-line black dress that came down just past my knees was cute, but modest, or so I’d thought.

  He had club music playing so loudly it shook the car, but turned it down when he pulled up in front of my building.

  “So, MacKenzie, are you sure you don’t want to get a drink?”

  I didn’t, but I had psyched myself up to let him kiss me good night, so he’d better hurry up and do it before I ran. “Sorry. Not tonight.”

  “All right,” he said. “I had a great time.”

  “Me too. Thanks for dinner.”

  He leaned in close. I meant to let him kiss me, I really did, but I turned my face at the last second and he planted a wet, slow peck on my cheek.

  Ugh. What am I, in sixth grade?

  “Thanks.” I ran from the car and let myself into the building without looking back.

  Four

  MacKenzie

  My apartment wasn’t in the safest part of town, but I’d lived in worse when I was in foster care, so I didn’t think about it too much. The paint-chipped stairwells with loose railings and creaky steps were in a secure building, which meant that I only had to deal with the few losers who lived inside the building itself—a small trade-off to be able to live in an apartment larger than a closet. After student loan payments, a closet was about all I’d be able to afford in a nicer part of town.

  Still, I sometimes got creeped out at night when I walked through the diml
y lit halls alone. Tonight was one of those times. I rushed up the stairs to my door and scrambled to get the key into the lock.

  “Hey, MacKenzie.”

  I jumped but instantly recognized the raspy voice of Soni, the older lady who lived one door down.

  “Hey, Soni,” I said.

  “Early night again?” she asked through the small crack in her door.

  “Yeah,” I said. “’Night.”

  Inside my apartment, I kicked off my heels and flopped down on the couch. Soni’s words rang in my ears. Early night again?

  What the hell did it say about me when an old woman thought I was having an early night? But she was right; I used to go out every night and stay out late. If it wasn’t an all-nighter at the hospital, it was an all-nighter at the club. Lately I’d been feeling like I wanted more. As if maybe I could find someone more permanent in my life.

  Could Chris be that person? Not if I didn’t figure out how to pull it together.

  And I really needed to pull it together.

  Except that I couldn’t. I’d always been a bit of a wild girl, never been able to grasp the whole get-married-and-have-a-baby thing.

  I blamed it on my upbringing. I’d lived in no fewer than twenty different foster homes as a kid. None of them were as crazy as the ones you read about in books. I knew I was lucky; I’d never been sexually abused, and was only hit once by a foster dad, from whose care I was promptly removed. But none of the families I stayed with ever connected with me emotionally or had time for me, so I got used to being alone.

  When I started dating, I never figured out how to stay with one guy for long. A quick night or two of fun, then run before they had a chance to hurt me. That was my MO. But something about that night with Ian—I wasn’t sure exactly what, but something changed.

  The night was supposed to be about Alexa and Cade. Alexa had dubbed it their coming-out party. I’d known they were going to end up together from the start. Or I was pretty sure anyway.

  For me, the night was less about them and more about Cade’s hot cage-fighter friend, Ian. Alexa was sure I’d seen him before, but I knew I’d remember meeting someone that delish. By the way I caught him looking at me, I’d known the night had the potential to be one neither of us would forget.

  And it was. I still remembered it like it was yesterday, though the memory was tinged with a mixture of sadness and longing.

  I fell asleep thinking about it…

  • • •

  Ian had crowded in next to me in the booth. The club had been loud, so we’d sat close in order to hear each other over the music.

  “So, are you a porn star too?” I had asked. Cade had only ever done two movies, but I couldn’t resist the temptation.

  Ian choked on his drink, roughly swallowing the gulp. “Um, no.”

  “Don’t have the balls for it, huh?” I teased, fighting off a smile.

  His eyes narrowed on mine, and his mouth lifted in a playful smirk. “My package is more than adequate, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  I licked my lips and leaned closer. “Then what are you afraid of? I heard the money’s great.” Something in me liked teasing him; he seemed too in control, too domineering, and I wanted to ruffle his feathers.

  “I guarantee I’d outlast and out measure every man on that porn set. I don’t because I choose not to.”

  I dropped my head back, laughing. “Sure, sure.”

  Ian pressed closer, aligning his face with mine so he could peer straight into my eyes as he spoke. “Some things are private. And my cock is reserved for my wife.”

  “You’re married?” My gaze dropped to recheck his left hand, which I already knew was ringless.

  “My future wife,” he clarified.

  How noble of him. “Wait. Do you mean you’re saving yourself for marriage?”

  He shook his head. “I’m no virgin, but I’m sure my future bride wouldn’t like knowing I’d fucked everything from here to New York, and filmed it. You know?”

  I nodded, suddenly losing my playful edge. He was right. And he was sweet. I wasn’t expecting that.

  We spent the next two hours talking and laughing, the topics ranging from innocuous things like our favorite pizza toppings, to more serious subjects like how many children we wanted to have. He wanted two; I was undecided.

  His eyes flashed his confusion, but before I had time to explain about my foster-care upbringing and my reluctance to bring kids into a less-than-perfect situation, Alexa leaned over from across the table. “Dance with me, Kenzie.”

  “Sure,” I said and turned to Ian. “Join us?”

  He looked over to Cade, who was comfortable where he was in the booth. Ian and I might have just met, but we both knew Cade didn’t like to dance.

  “I’ll sit this one out.” Ian’s eyes were on mine, and I got the impression he was fighting an urge to come dance with me.

  I hated to leave him there. Our connection, even though it was only hours old, had been so much deeper than I had ever felt before. But Lexa was dying to dance, so I got up.

  Ian moved back and I slipped out past him. For a moment, my breasts were almost in his face, and yet he didn’t break eye contact with me. A warm ripple of pleasure shot through me.

  The music was so loud, my entire body buzzed with every thump of the bass. Out on the dance floor with Alexa, I swayed my hips, letting the music guide me. God, I loved to dance. I lost myself completely in the music until I wasn’t moving to the song anymore, the song was moving me.

  I was so lost in it that I hardly noticed when someone came up behind me and started grinding with me. I turned to see who it was, expecting it to be Alexa, but it was some drunk kid just messing around. I laughed and shrugged, dancing with him. The kid was all wiry and bony, definitely not my type. But I was all about having a good time, and just because I danced with him didn’t mean I had to go home with him.

  But then he grabbed my ass, and before I had the chance to tell him to stop, Ian materialized and pulled him away. They faced off in front of me, barely a foot apart. Ian was taller than my dance partner, with five times the muscle, but he was also the cooler of the two. His body was tense, but his eyes maintained their usual calm and cool control.

  The drunk guy lunged at Ian, which made me chuckle until I realized that Ian could probably kill him without breaking a sweat.

  Ian grabbed the guy’s hand in one of his own, twisting it so the guy was forced to bend over or break his wrist. Meanwhile, Ian had hardly moved, his face still calm and collected. Then Ian bent down to the guy’s ear and said a few things I couldn’t hear. The man nodded, Ian released him, and he staggered away, hugging his wrist to his body.

  When Ian turned back to me, his jaw was tense and his nostrils flared. His gaze penetrated me in ways that made my body burn. Knowing he’d just stood up for me lit some fire inside me. As far as I was concerned, that was the hottest thing a man could do, mental foreplay in my book.

  I moved toward him, needing to be closer. Ian didn’t break eye contact as he pulled me into his arms and pressed our bodies together, making my pulse spike. His body was so amazingly rock hard, and yet perfectly shaped for me to fit against him.

  The next song was slower, and we adjusted our hips and moved to the music. I brought my arms up around his neck, and he lifted me up so that our faces were inches apart. I wrapped my legs around his waist. Ian held me to him, looking into my eyes for a long moment.

  When he leaned in and brushed his lips against mine, I was so glad he was already holding me up, because my body went completely limp. His lips were tender even as he took control of the kiss, first nipping playfully at my lips, but then opening my mouth with his and moving his tongue against mine.

  His arms moved from my waist down to my hips, and then his hands cupped my ass as he pressed me to him. I gasped. His rock-hard cock pressed against my center. The only barriers between us were his jeans and my wet panties. I squeezed my legs around him and pressed against him ha
rder, wondering if it was possible to break him in half with my legs. As an extreme fighter, I was pretty sure he’d survive, although if I didn’t have him soon, I thought I might die.

  Ian’s eyes met mine as the club around us faded into the background. Nothing else existed but the raw need inside me. With his gaze firmly locked onto mine, he read every thought buzzing through my brain, and the dark, hungry look in his eyes told me we were on the same page. He’d been so easy to talk to, so open, and made me feel at ease. And now he was pressing close to me, letting me feel every hard inch of him. I wanted more.

  I didn’t know how we got to his car, but damn, I had been so happy when I saw it that I’d flipping squealed. He had dug his keys out of his pocket and opened the back door, guiding me into the backseat…

  • • •

  I woke up with a gasp, my breath coming in pants. I dreamed about that night often, and the throbbing ache between my legs needed to be taken care of.

  Now.

  I had a vibrator, but knew from experience that after waking up from one of these dreams, I hardly had to touch myself, I was already so close to the edge. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes again and imagined what it would have been like if Ian had followed me into the backseat of his car and closed the door, if he had pulled me forward and spread my legs.

  My finger circled between my thighs, and I imagined Ian’s smoldering eyes locked on mine as he ripped off my wet panties. Frantic, I’d hurry to open the front of his jeans. He’d pull his pants down just enough to free his cock, which I knew would be huge and hard. He’d slide a finger inside me, and when he felt how hot and ready I was, he’d climb over me and thrust into me so hard I’d cry out and come apart instantly.

  He’d hold himself still as the wave of spasms rocked through my body and then slowed. Then he’d slowly pull out and push inside me again, and as he increased his pace, he’d wrap his arms around me, pulling me close and holding me tight.

  I’d shiver from the sheer pleasure of it, and run my hands over his rock-hard back muscles up to his shoulders as he moved faster, pushing harder and harder. Then he’d slip his hand down and lightly press a thumb on my throbbing clit. My nails would dig into his back as I came apart again, crying his name.

 
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