With Me In Seattle: Fight With Me Part 6

"I guess she's going to kick my a.s.s, dad."

"Good luck with that." Rich winks at me and then wanders back to the ring to yell out orders to the fighters.

"You could have warned me that I'd be meeting your father," I murmur as Nate takes my bag and jacket and hangs them on a coat tree near the door along with his own.

"Yeah, but then you wouldn't have come." He turns to me, his hands on his hips, prepared for a fight. And I'm suddenly in the mood to give him one.

Maybe it's all the testosterone I'm surrounded by.

"I don't do well with half-truths, Nate."

"Look, I'm sorry. I wanted to be here with you today. It'll be fun. My dad owns the place, he was my trainer and my manager when I fought, so of course this is where I work out." He shrugs and looks around the gym.

I eye him for a moment, enjoying the view. "Where do you want to start?" I ask.

"You still want to work out?"

"Yes, we're here. Let's go."

"Okay, let's warm up with the jump ropes and see what you can do." He grins and leads me over to a matt, handing me a jump rope.

Should I mention to him that my brother Will used to make me train with him for football season?

No.

Nate sets his watch timer for two minutes and I jump easily, using the form my brother taught me. Nate watches me, also jumping with ease. I'm hardly panting when the two minutes are up, and inside I'm smug. I keep a bored, bland look on my face.

"Next?" I ask.

"You've done this before," he murmurs.

I shrug and drop the rope on the mat. "What's next, ace?"

"Can you do a pull-up?" he asks, his eyebrow raised.

"I can do one or two," I respond and smile. I have to call Will later and thank him profusely for being such a hard a.s.s on me. Thanks to him, exercise comes easily to me, and my body is in excellent shape. I love to sweat.

Nate guides me over to the metal bars.

"Do you need a boost?" he asks.

I look up at the bar. It's probably about seven feet off the ground. "I think I got it," I respond.

"Ladies first." He motions for me to go first. I rub my hands down my pants, then hop up, gripping the bar. I find the s.p.a.ce between my hands that I like and begin to pull myself up, using a style Will taught me that he uses in Crossfit. As I come down, I push in an arc away from the bar, then swing back up, pulling the bar under my chin.

G.o.d, this feels fantastic! I manage twenty pull-ups, then drop to the mat, shaking my arms and panting.

"Your turn," I plant my hands on my hips and look up at Nate, who is gazing at me with a huge smile plastered on his handsome face.

"What?" I ask, but I know I just shocked the s.h.i.+t out of him. I glance around to find all the men in the gym are watching me, their mouths dropped.

"Who trained you?" he asks.

"My brother." I shrug like it's no big deal. "Your turn, ace."

"Okay," he's still smiling as he leaps up and easily begins raising and lowering that s.e.xy body up and down on the bar. His arms a holy Moses, those arms a flex and bunch with each repet.i.tion. I wish he'd take his s.h.i.+rt off so I can watch his chest. He effortlessly executes forty pull-ups and then drops to the matt.

"Not bad," I smirk and jump back up, gripping the bar. I begin the push and pull again, loving the burn that's moving through my arms, shoulders and back. After twenty I drop back down to the matt.

Without speaking, Nate hops up and completes forty pull-ups.

"Warmed up?" he asks, panting and sweating and I just want to lick him.

"Yes."

"I want you in the ring."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "There's quite an audience here right now, Nate."

He laughs and grips my hand in his, pulling me toward the ring. "That too, but for now, I want to spar with you."

Rich meets us at ringside and hands me headgear, helping me fasten it in place as Nate takes care of his own.

"You've got some upper body strength going on there, girl." Rich grins down at me and I can see the unspoken questions running through his handsome head.

"My brother plays for the Seahawks. He used to make me train with him." I smile at him as he wraps my hands in white tape.

"Wait," Nate interrupts. "Your brother is Will Montgomery, the football player?"

"Yeah," I grin, so unbelievably proud of my big brother. "He's a good workout partner, but he's brutal."

"I didn't know that." Nate has stopped taping his hand and is gaping at me.

"You don't know everything, ace. Are you going to stand there with your mouth hanging open all day, or are you gonna man-up and take an a.s.s beating?"

The whole gym erupts in laughter, including Nate, and he grips my shoulders and pulls me in for a rough kiss, then pushes me away and finishes taping up.

"Good luck, son. Make me proud." Rich laughs and steps over to the side of the ring, leaning on the platform, ready to watch the show.

Thank you, brothers of mine, for making me take martial arts and self-defense cla.s.ses, and for kicking my a.s.s every time mom wasn't in the room. The training is about to pay off.

Nate and I circle each other, his eyes full of humor. He thinks he'll take me down easy. Of course, he's bigger, stronger, and well-trained, but I have a few tricks up my sleeve and I'll get a few good shots in there before he takes me down.

I let him advance first, knowing he's not really going to hit me. As he reaches for me, I grab his arm, pivot, and stomp on his foot, jab my elbow into his stomach and roll us both onto the ground, me landing on top, then quickly roll off of him and back onto my feet. The guys who have gathered around the ring cheer, and Nate rises gracefully off the ground, grinning.

"Good one."

"Thanks." I grin back at him.

The next few minutes are the same, me using all the tricks my brothers and teachers taught me to defend myself against him. We're not throwing punches, we're grappling, and it's so s.e.xy and fun! Finally after a few minutes, Nate lifts me and pushes me up against the corner of the ring. His gray eyes are s.h.i.+ning, staring into mine with l.u.s.t and excitement and, if I'm not mistaken, admiration.

"You are so hot," he whispers, panting harshly, so only I can hear.

"Come on, McKenna!" A muscular, bald black man yells from ringside. "Stop dry-humping her against the corner and let her kick your ugly a.s.s!"

I laugh and wrap my arms and legs around Nate. "Yeah, McKenna," I whisper.

He spins quickly, and suddenly we're wrestling around on the ground. I manage to squirm out from under him briefly, but then he pins me again, lifting my hips and legs off the ground, and I know I've lost.

"s.h.i.+t," I mutter as someone slaps the ring and calls the match. Nate rolls off me and helps me up, then pulls me into his arms and kisses me fiercely.

I climb out of the ring and Rich meets me once again to help me out of the head gear and to cut the tape off my hands. "Not bad, baby doll."

"I have four older brothers. I had to learn to defend myself against them. Mom couldn't always be there to referee." I grin at Rich. I like him already.

The crowd thins again, all the guys go back to their own workouts and Nate joins us. "Ready to go?"

"Sure."

"You come back anytime, girl." Rich hugs me a hugs me! a and smiles at Nate. "You can come too, if you must."

"Gee, thanks, dad."

The ride back to the apartment is no less exhilarating than the ride to the gym was. My body is still sensitive from our rigorous workout, and the humming of the bike between my thighs is doing delicious things to my core. I wrap myself around Nate, my nipples pucker against his back, and I squeeze his thighs with mine.

He inhales sharply and curses and I smile. "Thank G.o.d this is a short trip."

He pulls into the garage and into his parking s.p.a.ce. It's fairly dark down here, the only light coming from fluorescent over-head bulbs. It's deserted.

I climb off and we take our helmets off, then before he can lower the kick-stand, I climb back on, straddling his lap.

"Hey," his eyes widen and he grabs my a.s.s to steady me.

"Hey yourself." I lean in and kiss him, my hands on either side of his face and he pulls me more snuggly against him, rubbing me against his erection still hidden in his workout pants.

"I want you," I murmur against his lips.

"Here?" he asks.

"f.u.c.k, yes."

"Jesus, you never fail to surprise me, baby." He's supporting the heavy bike, and us, with his strong legs braced on either side. He reaches between us and rips my yoga pants at the seam of my crotch. Holy f.u.c.king s.h.i.+t! My panties are next, and before I know it, he's lowered the waist of his pants and is filling me.

"Oh, G.o.d, yes." I lean back and brace my hands on the handlebars of the s.e.xy motorcycle, wrap my legs around his waist, and he guides me up and down his beautiful c.o.c.k with his hands cupping my a.s.s.

"f.u.c.k, baby," his teeth are clenched. He pulls one hand around and presses on my c.l.i.t with his thumb, and I explode around him, pus.h.i.+ng down on him, and he finds his own release, shouting my name. I hear it echoing in the parking garage, and I smile smugly, looking up into his hot gray eyes.

"I've never had motorcycle s.e.x before." I lean up, wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. He's still inside me, but anyone watching would just a.s.sume we're making out on his bike.

"Me neither," he chuckles against my lips, lifts me off of him and pulls his pants up. I stand next to the motorcycle and wrap my jacket around my hips, knotting it at my waist. That should get me upstairs.

"I'm going to have to go shopping this week. You're tearing up all of my clothes." I laugh as we walk onto the elevator and Nate pulls me into his arms, hugging me close.

"I'll replace them." He kisses my forehead and I smirk.

"No need. I don't mind."

"Did you bring a dress?" he asks.

"Yes, why?"

"I'd like to take you out tonight." He runs his hand up and down my back and I feel like purring.

"Okay."

"Good, let's go shower."

Chapter Seven.

I study myself in the mirror and grin. I've pulled my blonde hair into a loose bun behind my left ear. My eye makeup is smoky and s.e.xy, setting off my blue eyes, and pink lip gloss is smoothed over my lips.

It will probably be kissed off before we leave the apartment.

My dress is light gray and strapless, with a sweetheart neckline. It's gathered between my b.r.e.a.s.t.s and has soft ruffles that fall down the length, just above my knees. I have pink diamonds in my ears, a birthday gift last year from Natalie, a pink bracelet on my right wrist and pink Louboutin heels.

Grabbing my gray clutch bag, I toss in my phone, lip gloss, money, debit card and driver's license.

Time to knock Nate's socks off.

Coldplay's The Scientist is playing. Nate is not in the great room or the kitchen, and I know he's not in his bedroom or master bathroom because that's where I just came from.

Huh. Where is he?

I wander back down the hall and see the light on in his office. Leaning against the door frame, I watch him work. I love his work face. His eyes are narrowed, watching the computer screen, and he's quickly tapping on the keys, most likely sending an email.

He looks absolutely mouth-watering in black jeans and a snug-fitting royal-blue b.u.t.ton down s.h.i.+rt with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows. I love seeing the tattoo on his right arm. His hair is loose, because I asked him to leave it down while we were scrubbing each other in the shower. A shower that took about four times longer than it should have because we couldn't keep our hands off each other.

It's like my birthday and Christmas all rolled into one when he's naked, and he seems to feel the same way about me.

"Am I keeping you from work this weekend?" I ask, smiling at him. His head jerks up and those gray eyes go wide as he looks me over from head to toe.