Page 7 of Falling for the Forbidden Fighter (She’s Worth the Trouble #3)

LOUIS

I’ve never been so tired.

Military training has nothing on Don Winters’s boxing bootcamp. A whole week of two-a-days, four hours each. My legs shake in the shower, hands against the wet tile wall just to keep me standing. With the fight only six weeks away, we don’t have a choice.

Catherine was right: there’s no way I could have worked a part-time job and fought for Don. It’s like he’s trying to make me quit. He talks to me like a father I never had, always encouraging, but it’s just so he can order another grueling round for me to suffer through.

I do it because I have to.

Winning my fight. Catherine. These are the only things my mind has space for.

I hit a bag, over and over again, bouncing between those two focuses.

See the opponent, hit hard.

See her face, hit even harder.

If I lose, it’s over for both things.

Don will drop me, move on to some other fighter with more grit.

Catherine won’t want anything to do with a loser who has no job, no fights, and no place to live. I’ll be out on my ass with a little extra cash in my pockets—that’s it. That’s why I push myself. That’s why I put up with being on the verge of puking every waking moment…

I can’t lose.

Tomorrow is my first day off from training. I should sleep all day. Eat, sleep, repeat. Really, though, all I want to do is spend some time getting to know Catherine. By the time she gets home from her last client, I’m so exhausted I can barely focus, forced to bed early by her father’s demands.

I always have some dinner waiting for her, though. It feels good to serve her in some small way. When I sleep, I feel her there in the other room. It brings me comfort I’ve never known.

Someone is training out in the gym.

I shuffle out from the locker room, sweater on and hood up, barely keeping my bag on my shoulder. Don and Ricky are gone, and I’m glad for it. I don’t need any of their bullshit right now. It’s almost midnight.

The one person I want to see is dancing around a bag, landing quick jabs.

I drop my duffel and smile. “So, The Blizzard’s daughter can throw a punch. Not surprising.”

“You may have kicked my brother’s ass, but don’t mess with the real fighter in this family.”

“Yeah? Catherine Winters is the real deal?” I laugh, stepping behind the bag to hold it for her. “I thought boxing was just killing brain cells?”

“Only if you get hit. Next time, spare Ricky the shot to the head—he hasn’t got too many left.”

I feel the impact of her shots through the bag. Her form is perfect, using the coil and snap of her leg to drive her hips through the punch. Everything about her is perfect.

She steps back, catching her breath.

“You know,” she says, “you’re the only person who calls me Catherine.”

“Really? It’s your name.”

“Everyone calls me Cat. My dad and my brother call me Catty —they know I hate it. My mom called me Catherine…”

I hug the bag, holding her gaze. “What happened to her?”

“She died,” Catherine grunts, slamming the bag.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You didn’t even get to have parents.”

“Yeah, but I think losing them after you loved them is probably worse.”

She stops, hands on her hips, smiling at me.

“Do you want me to call you Cat?” I ask.

“No,” she says casually. “I like that you call me Catherine.”

Her body winds up before delivering four quick strikes that make my blood boil. I can’t help but want to feel the warmth of her skin beneath my fingers.

“Not bad.” I smile. “A little slow, but not bad.”

She stops, wiping some hair from her eyes. “I’m not wearing gloves. Don’t wanna go full speed.”

“Sure. Sure.”

That little devil’s smirk shows up and makes my heart pound like a speed bag.

“Come on, then.” She bounces back into open space on the mats. “Show me how it’s done. Slaps only.”

“You slap box?”

She shadow-boxes in place, bouncing dramatically. “I grew up with an asshole brother. I slap box.”

“Not really fair, though. I just did six straight days of hell.”

“Aw, you tired?” She deepens her voice, mimicking the grating sound of her father’s words. “ If you quit now, you’ll definitely quit when you’re bleeding, numb, deaf, and blind! ”

I kick off my sandals and shrug. “You asked for it.”

Any excuse to get my hands on her…

We dance around each other, giving a few fakes, laughing, diving, and retreating. Our eyes stay locked. Finally, I close the distance.

She smacks me so fast that I yelp and stumble back.

“Damn,” I laugh, rubbing my cheek. “All right. All right. I can see that I’m dealing with a pro.”

Catherine smiles at me, chin down, a thick strand of hair over one eye. Without a doubt, she’s the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. There’s something primal in that look—a fire in her green eyes that burns only for me.

With the other guys in the gym, she’s just friendly. She acts like they’re all her big brothers.

Me? She teases and tests me. She snaps her fingers and moves me like a drill sergeant.

She smirks like we’re in on a big secret.

And I guess we are. There’s a tension building between us that’s tighter than any bullshit between her brother and me. This isn’t about pride or being a tough guy or proving myself to anyone.

This is about needing each other’s presence.

It’s about watching her take that first bite of my food, witnessing the smile spread over her face like the desert sunrise.

All my life, I’ve been alone. I’m better off on my own. No one to hold me down. No one to turn their back on me…

She makes me want to change that.

I throw a few tired slaps her way, which she easily dodges and counter-strikes.

“Somebody’s beat,” she says. “Give up?”

“I don’t quit.”

I throw my arms around her, grappling like it’s the twelfth round and I need to catch my breath. Catherine squeals but leans into me, peppering my body with playful slaps as we move around the mat. We run into the heavy bag, and I whirl her around and pin her against it.

“Crowds hate clinches,” she grunts, trying to break free. “It’s boring.”

My hands lock together, wrapped around her, sliding down.

“Yeah? You bored?”

“No…”

She leans back, bathing me in buzzing cinnamon.

The curve of her butt presses against me. Now, there’s no more hiding what I want.

I’ve dreamed a million ways for this to happen, but none of them are this good, this perfect. Now that I’ve got my arms around her, I can’t imagine living without her warmth molding against mine.

This is as close to heaven as I’ve ever been.

Both of her hands reach up, fingers exploring my hair. Her touch shocks me, makes me aware of the tiniest details—my feet on the mat, the sheen of moonlight in her hair, the way her fingers drag along my scalp.

“Why didn’t you ask your dad if he had a place for me to stay?” My lips graze her ear. “Or your brother?”

“Louis… you know why. Come on, you’ve known since the day I evaluated you. I wanted you there.”

“Still do? Even after I knocked your brother out?”

“After that? More. ”

We laugh quietly, as if some ghost in the gym will hear us and let the world know. Whatever happens after tonight, I don’t care. If Don finds out and drops me, I’ll deal with it. If her brother wants to kill me, I won’t take it easy on him again.

All week, I’ve been hoping that Catherine wants me, thinking about what I’d do if she did.

Now, I’m going to do it.

“I won’t let him give up on you,” she says as my lips round her cheek. “If he finds out, I won’t let him quit on you, Louis. I’ll raise hell for you.”

I know she means it, but Don isn’t a man who turns his back on his convictions. If he finds out, I’m fucked.

She’s worth it.

“I know, Catherine. I know.”

I pull her into the kiss I’ve been fighting all week for.

As tired as I am, I should be in a deep sleep, but her lips shock me back to life. Everything in my life is hard, but not her lips. I’ve never felt anything so soft… it makes me pull back for a heartbeat.

Catherine doesn’t let me go.

She turns, sliding her arms over my shoulders and pulling my hood down. I back her against the heavy bag, hands drifting down her waist.

“You’re being gentle,” she whispers, kissing down my neck. “Don’t be afraid. You won’t break me.”

“I’m not afraid…”

Catherine puts her hands on my chest, staring into my eyes.

“You haven’t been afraid all week. Not when you step in the gym to get the shit kicked out of you. Not when my brother picks fights.”

She smiles, touches my cheek, and fills me with her warmth.

“But you’re afraid now. Don’t be. I want you, Louis. Since the first time we spoke, I’ve wanted to know everything about you—“

She yelps as I lift her by her long legs. They wrap around me, and my cock bulges through my sweats, pressing against her tight shorts.

Catherine leans back against the bag, gazing down at me, chest heaving. “That’s more like it…”

I explore her body with my lips, kissing down her neck, over her collarbone, and teasing her nipples through her form-fitting top.

I feel her legs constrict, feel her hips grinding against me.

She reaches up and grabs the bag’s chain for support, lifting her hips so I can slide her shorts off.

My fingers trail down her legs, gliding over muscles, leaving white streaks on her tan skin.

She’s left in a pair of spandex.

“Take them off,” she says.

I obey, holding her up by her legs as I slide the spandex away. My eyes never leave her body, drowning in her golden skin, her perfect thighs, and the soft hair on her mound.

Suddenly, I’m desperate for sunlight. Most of the gym’s lights are off, and hardly anything other than moonlight bleeds in through the windows. I want to see every inch of her clear as day. I want her naked under the desert sun.

Hopefully, there will be lots of time for that.

“Nice tat…” I gaze at the little cactus on her hip. It’s tiny, usually hidden.

“Don’t tell anyone,” she whispers. “It’s my little secret… ours, now.”

Catherine smiles at me, still holding the chain, working my sweatpants down with her feet.

“Off,” she says.

I smile, letting my cock jump out, sucking in a breath as it meets her toes.

“Mmm…” She pulls me back to her. “Has that been waiting for me all week?”

“You have no idea…”

I step into her, shaking as our bodies come together. Her hips tease me, hovering over the moment I’ve been dreaming of.

“I’ve caught you staring,” she whispers in my ear, kissing it softly. “So many times. You think I didn’t know?”

The scent of her neck makes me feel like a vampire I want to consume her.

“I can’t help it,” I moan.

“I don’t want you to.”

My hands take her by the butt, filled with her soft skin.

I’ve never been so fucking hard in my life, never been so obsessed and focused on a singular thing. Everything has led me here. Every fight and mistake and punch to the face.

And just as I’m about to press into my dream, my legs quake. One of them gives, sending us tumbling to the mat.

A week’s worth of brutal work has finally caught up with me.

Catherine squeals and laughs, throwing the hair from her eyes. I’m flat on my back, cock pointed at the ceiling.

“Fuck.” I drop my head back. “Sorry.”

“Stop. You’re exhausted, Louis.”

She places her hand on my chest, one leg hooked over me. Her thigh traps my cock, warm and delicate.

“Well, most of you is exhausted,” she says with a smile. “Lie back, baby. Let me take care of you.”

Baby? God, I could get used to this…

She shoves me back down as I try to crunch up, eyes stern.

“Louis, you’ve worked your ass off all week. It’s time to rest,” she hums, licking her lips. “And I’m going to nurture you, starting now.”

Catherine drags her lips down my body, hair pulled along as she dips lower and lower. When she reaches my cock, I buck my hips like an animal. I’ve got no control over what she’s doing to me.

I don’t deserve any of this.

Her family took me in, some Navy reject. They trained me, gave me purpose, and put their good name on the line to get me a fight.

And here I am, betraying their trust.

Well, not all of them…

Catherine lies down flat on the mat, feet pointed in the air as she strokes me. Those green eyes look up at me, glazed in a way I haven’t seen before. I’m the one being taken care of, but she looks like she’s about to cum.

She gives me one slow, lingering lick, and I know there’s no turning back. Catherine is the only thing that matters anymore… maybe the only thing that ever has.

I’m glad I got kicked out of the Navy.

I’m happy I was born with nothing or no one.

It all led me here, to her. Any amount of suffering would have been worth it.

And when her family finds out, I’ll take the beating that’s coming my way. I’ll suffer through anything.

Anything to stay with her.

There’s nothing on the mat for me to take hold of, no lifeline as Catherine bobs on my cock. She takes it slow, savoring every inch of me, toes pointed, little moans escaping her filled lips.

It’s like I’ve never felt pleasure before. How can something be this good? My whole life has been a fucking lie until this moment.

For once, I don’t have to fight.

I start to, but Catherine’s soft hands travel up my body, caressing me. Her fingers dig into my tired muscles as she takes me deeper. Without words, she tells me what she wants.

And I give it to her.

Every ounce of tension pours out of me and into her.

One last bout of excursion for the night, body trembling and flushed.

In the dark gym, I whisper everything I’ve been wanting to tell her. No, it only sounds like that. All I can manage is her name. It’s all that matters.

Her name drifts like a secret. Every time I say it, I feel like I’m trying to take it back, capture it, hide it.

This secret that can’t last.