With Love in Their Corner (The Boxers of Brook Street #1)

Chapter Fourteen

July 2, 1817

Stapleton Boxing Salon

Mayfair, London

O ver and over again, Lewis drilled his fists into one of the sandbags, wouldn’t let up even when his left shoulder throbbed, and his knuckles turned red.

He’d retreated to the salon after having dinner with Alexander at the club as a way to clear his thoughts and work out some of his anger so he wouldn’t say something he would regret. An hour before dinner, Alex had told him that their mother had summoned Lia to tea yesterday and then subsequently rejected her, which had caused her to run out of the house in tears.

Surprise hadn’t been the biggest emotion he’d experienced at the time, but anger had certainly been up there. He’d taken his mother to task, and though she’d also broken down into tears, she’d said she’d only been trying to protect him. Oddly enough, the overwhelming feeling guiding him right now was confusion, perhaps disappointment, and…

And what, Lewis? What are you not admitting to yourself?

Another few punches landed into the bag before he resumed his previous thought process.

As shocking as it would sound to other people—even to himself—he cared for Cecilia in all the ways that mattered. In fact, he would go so far as to say that he might be falling in love with her. Hell, he wanted to be everywhere she was, wished to know everything about her, looked forward to seeing her and hearing her counsel, even felt more calm when she was near. Because of her, he’d begun seeing life in a different way, and that in itself was a shock, for he’d thought being reared as an earl’s son and being handed heavy responsibility was his only lot.

Not any longer.

She had opened a wealth of new opportunities for him, and he couldn’t wait to explore them—with her. Could he be the earl he needed to be if he didn’t have the right woman by his side? Was she the right one? He rather suspected she might be, but if his mother didn’t approve and he went forward with his intentions to court Cecilia, would that put a rift into the family?

God, everything was too muddled to try and puzzle out, so he gave the sandbag another few punches.

To say nothing of that fear that after the disastrous tea with his mother, would he be able to convince Cecilia to spend time in his company again?

There was always hope, and after he completed his exercise, he planned to drive to her townhouse and call upon her despite the lateness of the hour. Perhaps her father would take pity upon him and invite him in at the very least to share a drink.

And then there was the bout he would enter into tomorrow night. It would get him out of the hell where he’d be expected to meet and dance with the eligible women he suspected his mother had invited. But on the other hand, he had doubts that his shoulder would hold, yet it had to.

Because he would give Mr. Derrickson the beating of his life for daring to molest Cecilia, yet when she discovered that was who he’d fight, would she ring a peal over his head?

He couldn’t help his grin as he continued to drill his fists into the sandbag. No doubt she would, but then, he enjoyed it when she rebuked him; it meant someone cared about him beyond his family, and there was a certain satisfaction and a giddy sort of happiness in that.

“Lewis.”

The echo of his name in her voice had him swinging about to glance at the door, and it wasn’t his imagination. Truly, she stood there, clad in her useless disguise as a young man, and in the dim illumination from the single candle he’d lit over an hour ago, she was easily the most beautiful woman he’d even seen, even if she didn’t look it just now.

“What are you doing here?” He grabbed up a towel from the floor and wiped the sweat from his face and neck.

“I haven’t seen you for two days,” she said in a low voice as she crept through the shadow-filled salon. “After I waited for word from you and not having it, I grew concerned about you, so I decided to come seek you out.”

He admired her initiative, even as her worry for him tightened his chest and put gratitude and, dare he say, love into his throat. “How did you know to come here?”

“Where else would you be? When your mind is conflicted, you turn to boxing.” Said as a matter of fact, even he could follow the logic.

“You know that about me after only knowing me for less than two weeks?” He wiped down his chest, then tossed away the towel.

“Yes.” She nodded and then removed the slouch-style cap, resting it on a straight-backed wooden chair near the wall. “I have found when one has been bullied and beaten, one tends to observe things more than the usual person.” Slowly, she approached him, unbuttoning her tweed jacket as she went. “I suppose you heard about my tea with your mother?”

“I did. Alexander told me not two hours past.” His gaze hungrily roved over her form when she removed the jacket and draped it over the chair’s back. “I’m sorry she said those things to you. She had no right.”

Cecilia frowned. “No, she had every right; she is your mother. She no doubt wants what is best for you.”

He snorted. “She is flirting with rudeness.” Watching her, he moved to the shelf where the candle rested in a brass holder. Easily, he snuffed it out, and as the acrid scent of burning wick filled the air, the ghost of the smoke vanished into the shadows. “What if what she wants is not what I want?” he managed in a barely audible whisper while coming back to her location.

“That is your prerogative and privilege, of course, but I came here tonight to tell you goodbye.” A mist of tears rose into her eyes. “I will not have it said that I broke up a family or led an earl astray, but neither can I occupy the periphery of your life and bear witness to you choosing a woman who might be equal to you in class, but all too wrong for you in every other way.”

If her voice hadn’t caught, if her chin hadn’t trembled, if a sheen of tears hadn’t filled her eyes, he would have been fine. But all of that did happen, and he crumbled, for he was only so strong, and he suddenly knew beyond all doubt that the best for him was her.

“Damn it, Lia, don’t do anything rash.” Then she was in his arms, and he tipped her head back to better avail himself of her lips.

For the space of a heartbeat, she paused, her gaze searching his, and before he could draw another breath, she lifted onto her toes, looped her arms about his shoulders, and kissed him back. Shortly thereafter, Lewis was lost. He chased the feeling of homecoming she gave him, for it was as if he’d never been welcomed as he was with her.

He slid his hands down her sides, then caught them beneath her thighs, easily lifting her up, and using the wall as leverage, he continued to plunder her mouth as if she would be imminently snatched from him.

To her credit, Cecilia wrapped her legs around his waist and held him all the tighter while fencing with his tongue. When she furrowed her fingers into the hair at his nape and she clung to him as if she feared this was their last time together, he uttered a soft growl.

Damn, he wanted her all too much—for everything—but for now, he would settle for claiming her body. “I don’t know what I did right in my life to have you here with me now, but I’m bloody grateful for it.” After all, he was merely an earl with a nearly empty title, and a busted-up body from his previous bouts in the boxing ring.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t question fate,” she whispered, and when he released her only to grasp her hand, she followed him into the office. “There is no understandable reason for us to be together, or what is between us—”

“No, I can’t fathom we were thrown together for a fleeting moment.” He was coming to rely on her far too much for that. “Lia, I…” How could he utter the words that hovered on the tip of his tongue when he didn’t truly understand what it was he felt right now?

“Don’t ruin the moment by saying something you don’t mean or can’t possibly fulfil.” Yet the gleam in her eye arrested the wild beating of his heart for a few seconds, and he welcomed that pause, for being near her, wanting her as if she were vital to his very life, was quite overwhelming as well as exhilarating.

“How do you know I can’t… or won’t?”

“The odds are against us,” she said in a soft whisper, and looked all the more lovely in the dark, for the Venetian blinds were in place on all the windows.

“I never contemplate the odds.”

“It is one of the many things I admire about you.” Then she closed the distance between them, put a hand on his shoulder and gently guided him close until he bent his head to hers. “Do you know why I adore sparring with you?”

“I couldn’t begin to answer that with any authority. Everything you’ve done surprises me.” At least that was the truth. He’d seen her confidence and bearing grow since their first meeting, and he couldn’t be more proud of that.

“Knowing that I am growing my power, feeling the purchase of my fists into your mittens makes me feel wanton and uninhibited,” she whispered and dropped her gaze to his mouth. “I never wish to knock you out, but I always hope you see me differently after every bout, that I make an impression on you.”

Oh, dear God.

A rush of hot sensation moved through his shaft, hardening it. “You have indeed made quite the impression on me, and I would be an absolute nodcock not to take notice of you.” His lips brushed hers. There was no doubt in his mind that he’d gone mad.

I am quite certain that I love her.

“Quite.” With the veriest bit of pressure, she encouraged him even closer. Was she echoing his unspoken thought? Yes, complete and utter madness was what he felt. And it was somehow freeing. “What should we do about that?”

“I wonder…” He wanted her in a way that made absolutely no sense to the logical mind. Certainly, there were risks associated with all of it, yet… For the first time in his adult life, Lewis tossed caution to the winds. It was time to begin living his life as if he actually guided it, instead of letting responsibility prod him. Before he could think about ramifications or consequences, he slid his arms around her. “We are in luck, for I can think of a few things.” And then he crushed his mouth to hers.

The attraction between them caught fire and pulled them into its vortex as he kissed her thoroughly and quite relentlessly. Her lips were soft but insistent, and she gave him back everything he offered. All too soon tongues were entwined, and hands glided over bodies. Shortly after, he had the buttons of her vest undone.

Cecilia wrenched away. “Regardless of what will happen in the future, I want you right in this moment.” She followed the statement by kissing him with the verve and enthusiasm she showed to every aspect of her life… at least when it came to boxing.

What sort of gentleman would he be if he didn’t oblige her?

Various bits of clothing fell to the floor: her vest and gloves, her sloppily tied cravat as well as her ill-fitting boots. Then he pulled Cecilia’s shirt from her body, and he almost shot his wad in that moment, for tonight she wore stays beneath the shirt, and damn if that wasn’t the most erotic thing he’d ever seen.

“Dear God, Lia, you’re—”

She cut his words off with a fierce kiss. “No talking. If this is to be the last time I’m with you, I only want you.” When she dropped to the mattress tick and beckoned to him in the dark and shadows, Lewis was lost.

“Damn.” Quickly, he tugged off his boots. They fell to the floor with two resounding thuds. He kneeled before her and worked to pull off the breeches that had tempted him beyond reason since the first moment he’d met her. She manipulated the laces of her stays. Seconds later, she was gloriously naked with her body bared to his inspection, and the darling girl leaned back onto her elbows to let him look his fill.

This is so much better than our first time.

She was right. There was no need for words. He would show her his admiration instead—his love, if he were honest. With his gaze holding hers, he removed his breeches, uncaring that his member was proudly rampant to the point of pain, and when he came over her body, settling between her bent knees, a sigh escaped when he found her lips again with his.

If he weren’t already fully besotted with her, kissing her, exploring her body as she did to him would have done the trick. Soft, silky skin met his wandering fingers, glided beneath his lips as he sought to re-familiarize himself with every nuance of her form. The slopes of her breasts, the curve of her hips, the gentle swell of her stomach all called to him, for his touch, and she was as lush and gorgeous as he remembered.

How could any man reject such a woman due to those curves, or perhaps a bit of extra weight, in favor of someone more in style?

Dear God, but she is a goddess!

The moment he closed his mouth on a pebbled pink nipple, she moaned and arched her back while he kneaded her other breast. The scent of violets teased his nose, and he couldn’t have enough—of her, of her perfume, of the thought of them together to meet all the challenges life would throw at them. Lewis nuzzled the crook of her shoulder, nipped and nibbled a path between her breasts, over them, explored her navel while he pleasured her with his fingers.

Suddenly, this act was more than a simple bedding. It was worshipping this woman, telling her without words how much he adored and appreciated her, how much he wanted her in all the ways that mattered.

With a laugh that felt this side of wicked, he dipped his head between her splayed thighs and drew his tongue along her folds. Apparently, she hadn’t expected that, for she gasped and squirmed from his attention. Chuckling against her skin, he encouraged that tiny bud at her center out of hiding and then set to work worrying it with his lips, alternately sucking it into his mouth and soothing it with swipes of his tongue. Cecilia held his head tightly against her flesh. In the next second she attempted to shove him away, but he could be stubborn when he wished.

Even in this they were well matched, and in this moment, he wouldn’t stop until he’d sent her over the edge.

“Oh, oh. Oh!” A keening cry left Cecilia’s throat the second he increased the friction against that nubbin. She squirmed, thrashed her head on the mattress tick. A red flush faintly stained her chest and cheeks in the dim illumination as she curled the fingers of one hand into his hair.

“It sounds as if you are in great need, Lia. Shall I send you over again?” Pure masculine smugness welled within him at the thought as he came back up her body.

“I didn’t know it was possible. Wondered about it, of course, but had never experienced anything like that…”

Lewis cut off her words with a kiss he hoped knocked all thought from her mind. With an arm beneath one of her knees, he fit his tip to her opening, and when she nodded, he thrust his hips, penetrating her fully and as deeply as he could go.

“Dear God, Lewis…” She hooked her other leg around his, her heel snug against his arse. “You feel so lovely. I adore this moment, when you’ve joined with me and we are one.” Cecilia’s eyes popped open, and she trained them on his face. “As if I’m wanted simply for me.”

He grunted. “You are. So much.” Had he said too much? The fact he was nearly too far gone wasn’t lost on him, for when it came to this woman, everything was more intense, carried greater impact and reward. Stroking into her beautiful, receptive body didn’t make him feel as if he were a failure or if he had that terrible weight about his shoulders. All of that fell away as pleasure swelled and love for her took hold.

How was any of this possible with this one woman?

Over and over, he pumped until he found a rhythm and she matched it. One of her hands curled around his upper arm while the other she’d flung above her head to brace herself against the wall. It was just as well, for each consecutive thrust grew more powerful than the last, scooting her body over the mattress tick. All too soon, he was lost to the tight heat of her, floating on the snatches of moans and the soft sounds of encouragement she made at the back of her throat. Would that he could hear them for the rest of his life, to have this woman by his side for as long as he was alive.

“Lewis…”

“Hmm?” His eyes were half-shuttered, but hers were open and watching him, the irises darkened to sapphire.

“Give me all of you. Don’t hold back.” A waver of uncertainty had entered her voice. “For tonight…” She squeezed his arm and the slight pressure of her heel at his arse told him all he needed to know.

Does she feel the same for me?

He unexpectedly lost another piece of his heart to her in that moment. But he rose to the challenge and thrust again. Harder. Faster. Deeper. Claiming her now but laying down an unspoken promise for the future. Basically marking her as his. Showing her how much he adored her and appreciated her in his life.

All in an effort to pleasure this wonderful woman who’d sent his life tip over tail in a handful of days. It was all too much too fast, and his body had been primed for too long thinking about her basically non-stop since the first time he’d joined with her. Hot sensation rushed through his shaft, tingled in his stones as they drew tight to his body. Sweat trickled down his spine and at his temples, and still he worked her over, for he didn’t want this coupling to end.

It did, as all things do, but in spectacular fashion. Cecilia’s body stiffened. Her moans grew more intense, and as she slipped a hand between their bodies to touch the button he’d tormented earlier, he lost the remainder of his control. Never had he seen anything as titillating as a woman who knew exactly what she wanted, even during intercourse, especially from a woman like her who’d been previously abused and beaten, a woman who’d found her power and her voice simply from asking him to teach her how to box.

His release welled up and over him before he was ready. Lewis didn’t just fall over the edge into bliss. Oh, no, not with Cecilia. He was hurtled, thrown, violently pitched into a whirling vortex of need and want as sparkling colors swirled around him, fighting to steal his breath and sap his strength. And he gave himself up to it in that moment, for this was exactly what it had felt like since Lia had entered his life.

A long scream of satisfaction came from her, ringing in his ears. She clutched at him in a bid to hold him close, her body shaking and her feminine walls convulsing around his shaft. He shivered both in exhaustion and awe while his length pulsed, and still he ground himself against her to prolong the sensations for them both.

Eventually, his strength gave out and he collapsed on top of her, his breathing as ragged as hers. Cecilia’s arms came around him. She kissed his shoulder, his temple, his cheek, before pressing her trembling lips into the curve of his neck. Wetness came away on his skin.

Was she crying? “Are you well? Did I do something wrong, hurt you?” Emotion thickened his voice. “If so, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, nothing like that. I’m…” A sound that was a cross between a sob and a laugh escaped her. “I just realized that I’m happy for the first time in a very long while indeed, and the fact that it is because of you is overwhelming.”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

For a long time, they remained like that, lost, sated, adrift on a sea of heated contentment and lethargy, and finally Lewis acknowledged to himself what he must have known at the back of his mind all along: he was indeed in love with this woman, and there was nothing to stop the slide. Even more startling, he didn’t want to, damn his mother’s eyes. She could either support his decision or he would walk out of her life, but he refused to go forward without Cecilia.

After the bout, once he came out the victor and put her attacker in his place, he would ask her to marry him.

And then finally, finally, he could go about the business of being happy himself.