Chapter 15 – Clay
I drag Maggie into the locker room, slamming the door shut with a firm click behind us. Adrenaline surges through me, energy pulsing with nowhere to go, the rush of victory still pounding in my veins after taking down a guy who doesn’t even deserve to breathe.
But then there’s Maggie—grounding me, looking beautiful and out of place in this grimy underground bar.
Tonight, she’s wearing tiny silver hoops, a light blue mid-length dress that hugs her curves in all the right ways with delicate spaghetti straps barely holding up her full breasts and toned shoulders.
The juxtaposition of her beauty against the dirty place reminds me that she has no business following me here.
A mixture of frustration over her showing up yet desire for her churns from deep within me.
Part of me is furious that she’s come, and the other part wants to throw her over the nearest chair and make her regret it in a way that she won’t soon forget.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
“I came to see you fight. That was amazing, Clay,” she says, her eyes wide with admiration reminding me of Bambi again, almost glowing with trust and adoration she shouldn’t have.
I want to crush that starry-eyed look with a sharp remark. Shatter any romantic notions she has about some broken prince fighting off the bad guys to come and save her.
“There’s nothing special about two fucked up, dirty men fighting out their demons in a dingy bar full of drunken heathens.”
She takes a step closer, and I draw in my breath, her hand brushes against my cheek gently, wiping away what is probably blood that’s started to dry.
“This is where you come to deal with your pain. It’s how you process everything, isn’t it? It’s noble. It’s incredible. I wish you could see yourself the way that I do.”
“Stop romanticizing it,” I snap, trying to keep my voice as stern and firm as possible.
I hit her with my cold words, but instead of retreating, she steps closer, her scent envelopes me, her eyes are unwavering. Something’s shifted in her and suddenly I realize she may not be as easy to scare away as she was last summer.
“I’ve had a crush on you since I was ten years old.
Back then, you were kind, happy, silly—the guy who brought people together.
And then I watched you grow up, and you held on to that joy.
.. until Savannah. After her, it was like you lost something.
I told myself it was just a silly teenage crush anyways, that I didn’t really know you and when I mistakenly expressed to you that I thought you were handsome last summer, you made it clear you’d never see me as more than a child. ”
She pauses, her gaze softening as she studies me closely.
“When I came back two weeks ago, you looked even better than the guy I once had a crush on. But I was reminded again that you weren’t the same.
And I wasn’t the same. You were colder, broken.
Still, there’s been something different about you this summer, something I haven’t been able to figure out until now. ”
Her voice drops, “You stopped pretending. You stopped hiding behind humor and wit, and you found an opportunity to be real. In here, in the ring, you’re all alpha—strong, dangerous—but it’s more than that.
You’re letting yourself feel the pain, letting it move through you.
You’ve found an outlet that allows you to be someone different outside of the life you were born into as the youngest Cameron son.
And somehow, that’s made you stronger, more relatable to others.
And that version of you? That’s the best version I’ve ever seen. ”
Her words hit like a punch that I wasn’t ready for. Her hand reaches up again, touching my cheek gently where I can still feel the sting of a scab forming. I grab her wrist and hold it in place, squeezing and staring into those chocolate brown orbs that trust me way too damn much for her own good.
“You’re not the young man who had his heart broken seven years ago by someone who never deserved you. And I’m not the little girl who watched from afar, holding on to a childish crush while navigating my youth,” she says, her voice steady but soft.
“I’m a woman now, Clay, and I know you may never see me that way. But I came here tonight to show my support just like you’ve supported everyone else who you deem fit to receive it. Because people who are fighting to heal themselves are the ones who truly deserve it.”
Her gaze softens, and her voice drops to a whisper. “And believe me, though you like to remind me of my age, I’ve had my own share of pain in my short twenty years.”
My eyes scan her beautiful body taking in every inch of her figure and instantly I want to take away whatever pain she’s alluding to.
She steps closer, though my hand is still gripping her wrist. Her toes lift just enough for her lips to peck softly against my cheek. The tenderness in the gesture catches me off guard as she pulls away, body still pressed lightly against mine.
“I won’t tell anyone about your secret past time,” she whispers, her breath warm against my skin as her eyes cast downward. “And I hope that you aren’t mad about me showing up. But I just wanted to say I’m proud of you—for being brave enough to do something different and a little wild.”
She steps back, her smile faltering, and I realize I’m still gripping her wrist. She doesn’t pull away from me either.
“I know you’ll never see me as anything more, but maybe… we can be friends? I’d like to support you, if you’ll let me.”
I growl, feeling my cock tenting through my thin, fighting shorts and pressing into her thigh now.
The last thing I want from Maggie is friendship, but it’s probably the only thing I should take.
I don’t have anyone else supporting me besides Dallas, and the fact that she’s here—without judging me for what I’m doing, unlike Savannah—only makes her even more irresistible.
“Oh…” she says, her eyes glancing down at my shorts then back up at me.
“Yeah, oh.”
She shifts her hips slightly, the movement brushing against the most sensitive part of the tip of my cock.
A low growl rumbles from deep within my chest as I tighten my grip on her wrist. The adrenaline from the fight, the testosterone still coursing through my veins, and the fact that I haven’t touched a woman in well over six months has me throwing all caution aside.
Before I can over think it, my free hand wraps around her neck, pulling her forward as I crush my lips against hers.
Her mouth parts, our tongues touch and I seal myself there firmly, taking everything that she’ll give me.
It isn’t just a kiss—it’s raw, primal, and all-consuming.
A surge of heat and instinct overtakes every sense, leaving nothing but hunger and the wild need for more from her.
I can taste her scent, her pleasure, like cherries on my tongue, intoxicating and sweet.
My tongue glides into her mouth, claiming her as I twist her wrist behind her back, pulling her hips harder against me.
Now she can feel exactly how much I want her. I know that the rigid length of my cock is pressed against her like a steel pipe ready to burst.
Her words said she was over me, but the way she kisses me back tells a different story. And maybe it’s wrong for me to kiss her knowing that at one time she’d had a crush on me, but I’m too far gone now to care. At least I won’t let her touch me tonight—that I can control.
She moans against my lips and rocks her pelvis forward and down to get more friction. I pull back, looking between us as I watch her humping my leg, her dress bunched around her thighs. When she catches me staring her cheeks flush in embarrassment.
“Sor-sorry.”
I shake my head, “You can ride my leg all night if you’d like but I have something better in mind for you.”
I grip the back of her neck again and tilt her face upward so that I can suck up and down the column of her slender throat. A throat that I’d like to see if my cock could fit inside.
My hands shift forward, now wrapping tightly around her neck and feeling the wild pulse of her heartbeat race against my thumb. I watch it flutter under my fingertips as she pants, her eyes fixated on my chest, hand pressed over my heart.
When her gaze reaches mine again, I know now’s my time to stop this thing before we go too far. She’s young, has held a crush on me for years and I know better. I’m the one who needs to put an end to this.
But then she presses her throat forward into my grip like she enjoys being choked and my fingers instinctively clamp around the flesh, tightening.
Maybe she is actually past me. Maybe this is a bad idea, but at the moment, neither of those possibilities matter as I lean into the present.
Fuck me…
I lower my lips again, tongue sweeping around inside her mouth as I feel her fingers rake through my hair.
“Let’s celebrate your win. I want you,” she moans, sending the vibrations of her voice through my body and down into my pants.
I shake my head, “There’s no way I’m disrespecting you by fucking you inside this dirty gym where there are people outside the door that don’t deserve to see your goodness in the light nor the night.”
I glance around the grimy room and spot a worn-out bench in the corner. Draping the towel from my neck over the cracked leather, I guide her to sit down, making sure she’s settled before stepping back and dropping to my knees in front of her.
“I’m not going to fuck you tonight, but I still intend on you coming. Now spread those beautiful legs for me.”