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Jamil was still forgetting about his guard when his jab connected, and all it took was a dancing side step to get in the space he made. I was fast enough. I wasn’t going to be the only one. And I wanted to show him that far more than I wanted to let my body sabotage what I was doing because the mysterious, hot guy who may or may not have been some kind of sniper, had just walked in.

Jamil was supposed to be building up to proper fight rules, but it wasn’t going to happen if he couldn’t stop taking it personally every time he took a punch.

I forced my focus in on the fight, until out of the ring, the impossibly hot guy was nothing more than a shadow talking to Mitch. That was pretty impressive mind control on my part, because he was built like a Greek god and instinctively I wanted to give him all the attention he deserved.

My state of zen focus only worked until Mitch shouted out for Jamil to take a break.

I turned on my heel. “Come on Mitch, we were just getting warmed up.”

I was all set for more of a protest, but my face slackened when I saw who was climbing into the ring with me, strapping on pads.

“This guy wants to see what we do here. Doesn’t reckon a girl can fight. You want to prove him wrong, pet?”

“Don’t fucking ‘pet’ me Mitch.” I punched my gloves together, meeting the man’s blue, blue eyes as I retook my stance, trying to ignore the tingle of my clit and the way my nipples tightened beneath my sports bra.

“That’s my girl. You want to watch out, mister. She doesn’t pull her punches.”

The man’s lips barely twitched, but the glint in his eyes told me he was smiling. “I wouldn’t want her to.”

The way he looked at me made my whole body flush. Fuck. I was so screwed. Had he followed me here? What did he want?

I had to keep my gloves high as he brought the pads towards me in an attacking swipe and I ducked under his arm. He pushed the pad against my glove as my fist swung, and I felt the force of the connection ripple all the way through my arm, solid and true.

His eyes were locked with mine, but there was nothing threatening about them. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was as entranced with me as I was with him.

I edged forwards, moving into the space my jabs provided, steering him around, and he let me, the flat of the pad taking the brunt of each strike. He swiped again, and I ducked, perfectly choreographed like a dance only both of us knew.

“Follow me here, did you?”

One of his eyebrows raised, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. I wanted to bite his lip and smack his smile off and the impulse was making me clumsy. “Have we met?”

“You were outside my building the other day. Don’t play dumb with me.”

The man frowned, but there was a whole load of held back amusement in his face. It was irritatingly attractive.

“Really? I don’t think so. I’m just checking out a boxing gym. Like Mitch told you. ”

I narrowed my eyes, and I took another swing. My right hook knocked his pad back a satisfying distance.

“Oh-ho. You’ve got a whole lot of power in that little frame of yours. Been coming here long, have you?”

But I knew he’d let me. He was a solid wall when he didn’t want to be moved. I’d have been impressed, but mostly I was turned on to a debilitating degree.

“A while now. It’s funny, you look exactly like this guy who’s been hanging around outside my house.”

“That is funny. Must be a real handsome fella to get you this worked up.” He pushed back against my gloves with the pads, knocking my hands out of alignment with a solid downward slap, just the way I’d done with Jamil. Only, he leaned in, let his voice drop. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, you seem a little bit obsessed.”

I growled, swinging in again. It was way too late to stop him pressing my buttons.

“You’re the one following me.”

“Am I indeed?”

I knew Mitch purposefully hadn’t given the guy gloves. With pads he didn’t have much he could really hit with, but all the same, I saw Mitch waiting, tense at the edge of the ring. I glanced to him and back to the man my body was tingling all over for.

I went at him with a series of jabs and crosses, and he walked back, letting me land every single one.

“What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you about Pierce Sutherland, Elizabeth.”

I was out of breath, panting hard and he was cool as a cucumber. But he knew my name. Knew Pierce too. Of course he did. Why else would he be doing this?


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