She searches my face. “So, no sex. Does that mean everything else is off-limits too? Like you can’t touch me at all?”
I suck in a deep breath and nod. “It might be for the best. Otherwise, the temptation will be too hard to resist.”
She sticks out her lower lip and adorably pouts. “Okay, I understand, even if I’m going to have sex withdrawals,” she playfully whines.
“Me too, baby,” I admit, already hating that I can’t lay her down and kiss her the way I want to, but when I win this fight, we’ll finally have it all.
It’s been a week since I started training with Tyler, and while I’d like to think it’s getting easier, it’s not. Tyler has pushed me to the limit every single day and continues to do so. Practices are unpredictable, and I’m beat down until my muscles are weak and tired, but today I wake up ready to fight. I can already feel how much stronger I am and even started lifting weights a few times this week to break down the muscle further.
Yesterday, Tyler told me we were meeting at a gym known for boxing. Apparently, it has fighting mats and a ring, and it’s better suited than my gym. When I show up at our regular time, I immediately notice Tyler chatting with someone.
As soon as I walk up, Tyler introduces us. “This is Rampage.”
I shake his hand. “I’m Liam, nice to meet you.”
The guy has tattoos trailing up his arms and legs. It’s mid-December, and the gym doesn’t have heat, but he’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt with the arms cut out.
“Thought I’d give you a challenge today,” Tyler says, grinning wide. “Rampage is one of the best in the area and has won a few underground fights. He’ll be your opponent.”
I feel a tad blindsided and intimidated, but I’m okay with it. Actually, going up against someone who I’m unfamiliar with will probably be more helpful and feel like the real thing. Considering the no-sex rule still stands, it might be nice to kick someone else’s ass. I go to pick up the knuckle tape, and Tyler shakes his head.
“We’ll use gloves today. Don’t want you getting the shit kicked out of you yet. We’ll save that for when you’re training in Vegas.”
Rampage laughs. “I dunno, Tyler. Liam’s a big dude.”
Tyler glances at him. “I know how you are. How about you not Tyson him like you did that other guy?”
Laugher escapes Rampage, and he looks pleased with himself. “Got it. No biting off ears.”
“You did that to someone?” I try to keep my reaction flat as I tighten my laces.
He grins before stepping into the ring. “I’d do it again, too. The bastard deserved it, and there was a lot of money riding on that fight.”
What the fuck did Tyler get me into? Or rather, who?
I follow him and stand on the opposite side of the ring. Tyler tells me he booked the space for an hour and will probably use up the entire time. After he sets the clock and talks about the rules—three to four rounds, three minutes each—we begin. The time counts down, and I size Rampage up, noticing how he doesn’t take his eyes off me. It’s as if someone flips a switch because, in a flash, he rushes toward me. His hands cover his face before laying into me with so much fucking power, I almost lose my breath. After a few seconds of taking a beating, I snap.
The maneuvers Tyler and I have been practicing every day come to me in full force, and a second later, I kick my leg out and take Rampage down, but he’s relentless and snaps his fist behind my knee, and soon, I’m falling too. This happens over and over again through every round, and soon, I catch on to his moves and reactions, then allow my adrenaline to lead me. During the final round, we’re both tired as hell but continue kicking each other’s asses. About a minute in, he swings, and I duck, giving me the opportunity to put power into an uppercut using all the strength I have in my legs. As soon as my fist connects with his jaw, Rampage takes two steps back, then falls down.
Tyler jumps over the ring and goes to him, waiting for him to come to. My lip is busted, and my body hurts from being beat the fuck up, but I feel good. Tired, but good and confident. Rampage spits out blood, then Tyler helps him stand. He takes off his gloves and gives me a handshake.
“Great fuckin’ job, man. You’re a natural.”
I almost laugh, considering what the past week has been like for me. “Nah.”
“I’d bet on you,” he says.
Tyler beams proudly. “That’s just one week of intense training. Sending him to Dice in Vegas next week,” he explains. “He’ll be sweating his body weight by the time he returns.”