Chapter1
Jessie
It’s late afternoon when I walk into the gym expecting to see two of my four husbands, (yes four, I’m a lucky gal) Mikey and Conor, for my regular workout, but only Conor is in here. He’s standing in the center of the boxing ring — dressed in only a pair of shorts. His huge arms folded over his broad, tattooed chest as he stares at me.
“Where’s Mikey?” I ask with a frown.
“No Mikey today, angel. It’s just me and you. Climb in,” he says, walking to the edge of the ring and lifting the middle rope.
I walk over, admiring his bare chest as I do. “We’re boxing today?”
“We are.”
“I thought it was leg day.” I pull a face and he chuckles softly.
“I’ll make your legs tremble, don’t worry.”
I catch my bottom lip between my teeth and pop one eyebrow at him.
“Not that kind of trembling, angel,” he says, his deep voice dropping another octave. “Not today. You’re here to work.”
“You’re no fun,” I pout as I climb inside the ring.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Me? I’m so much fun. Pretty sure you were enjoying yourself riding my cock a few hours ago.”
“Yeah, well,” I say with a dramatic sigh. “That was then.”
“You always complain about working out, but you secretly love it,” he laughs as he smacks my ass. “Now get your gloves on.”
I pick up the pair of powder blue and gray fingerless mitts on the floor and slide them onto my hands. He stands, hands on his hips as he waits for me and I take a moment to appreciate his incredible body — all muscles, tattoos and abs. He must have been warming up before I arrived and a thin film of sweat covers his entire body, making him look even more delicious — if that were humanly possible.
Conor used to be a bare knuckle boxing champion back in Ireland and boxing remains one of his passions in life. He was undefeated as a fighter and whilst he spars with his three brothers all the time, only Shane and Liam have ever knocked him on his ass — and that only happens when he’s having an off day.
“You know it’s rude to stare at your trainer like that, right?” he chuckles darkly.
“You’re not just my trainer though, are you? You’re my husband, and I’m pretty sure gawking at your hotness whenever the hell I want to was one of our marriage vows.”
He arches one eyebrow at me. “It was?”
“Well, I definitely meant to say it, even if I didn’t,” I purr, stepping close to him and running a gloved hand over his pecs.
He takes a step back, leaving my hand suspended in mid-air and I groan in frustration. “But right now in this gym, I’m your personal trainer, and this could be construed as sexual harassment. I mean I could sue your ass.”
“Well, if my trainer was dressed more appropriately, perhaps I would be better behaved?” I offer with a shrug of my shoulders.
He looks down at his one item of clothing. “I’m wearing boxing shorts. This is literally what fighters wear in the ring.”
“Hmm,” I chew on my lip. “I suppose I should just wear my bottoms then?” I ask as I reach for my sports bra and go to pull it off over my head.
“No,” he growls, gripping my wrist in one of his huge hands. “We’re here to work out. Besides, your ass in those skin tight pants is enough to drive me to distraction as it is.”
“You really are no fun this morning.”
He picks up the pads at his feet, slipping them on before raising his hands. “No, I’m not. Now let’s warm up.”
* * *
My heart is beating wildlyin my chest and beads of sweat trickle down my back as I blow out a long breath. I swear Conor’s boxing workouts are enough to bring an Olympian to their knees. You think he’d go easier on me because I’m his wife, right? But nope. In fact, he makes me work harder than I’ve worked in my life. He pushes me like no-one else. Wanting me to be faster and stronger. Although I grumble about it, usually I love my workouts with him and Mikey. They make me feel accomplished and strong.