Page 38 of Green Flag (StormSprint #2)

Everly

Would my panties drop the second I saw Luca Mendes beat ‘black shorts’ to shit? Undeniably. Was I ready to throw myself across the ring to him and let him have at me there and then, televised for all to see? Most definitely.

My body recalled that morning when he found me in nothing but his top.

And when he’d held me, comforted me and talked me through my insecurities, one by one, my heart swelled.

Which was exactly why I shouldn’t make this more complicated by throwing myself across the ring and really meaning the kiss I’d thrust upon him.

Yet, in the filling arena, I was still looking for him before the fight. Just to be nice. Just to be friendly. Of course.

The grid girls and I were sat elsewhere, far from Dad’s judgmental gaze, but if anyone knew where Luca was, it would be him.

“Where’s Luca?” I asked him, looking down at my booted feet so he couldn’t smell my wine breath from dinner with the girls. He’d only scold me.

“Out the back, getting ready,” Dad said before giving me a kiss on the cheek and a light hug. “You look nice.”

My eyes widened, still looking down at my beautiful new boots. Until you see what I plan on wearing later in the ring.

“Er, thanks.”

“Are you not sitting here with us?” he asked, gesturing to an empty seat beside him.

Probably originally bought for his wife, Marina.

“I bought a seat by the girls,” I said, expecting him to complain, but instead, he smiled.

“I’m glad you have some new friends,” he said. “Arabella’s a good influence.”

She had literally hot-boxed the taxi on the way to the venue and had drank a whole bottle and a half at the Italian we’d gone to for dinner.

“Where is my boyfriend? What direction?” I didn’t want to end up in Luca’s enemy’s quarters. Though that would wind him up a good degree…

Dad smiled, watching me carefully. “He really loves you, doesn’t he?”

“Dad!” I cried, outraged.

He grinned, showing his teeth. “I’m really glad you moved back home, Ever.”

Before I could even consider that, he was waving a security guard over. “This is Luca’s girlfriend. Can you take her out to the back?”

I didn’t have the words to thank him, because I simply didn’t have any coherent thoughts.

The stadium was loud with chatter, but the noise dipped to individual laughter as I was escorted out through the dark tunnel past more guards and then into an open area.

The room was dark with brass accessories, from taps to tableware to the light fixture.

There was a bar to the right, sofas in the middle with large screens to show the fights and more rooms down a corridor.

There were plenty of people back there. Coaches, drinkers, VIP. But Luca was nowhere to be seen. I poked my head round the corner of another door to see a small gym of weights and machines, but still no Luca.

“He goes on a run,” Marco said, making me jump. “Sorry, Everly. He’s been distracted and… The cold gets him going, apparently.”

That made sense. He was masochistic like that.

“How long until he’ll be back?” I asked, following him to sit down on one of the leather seats.

He shrugged. “Probably after the first couple of fights.”

So I settled in for the hour, watching the fights on the screen and hearing the chants and screams of excitement from the stadium.

I should be out there in one of the two seats that had been bought for me, but not telling Luca good luck before his fight seemed like it would be a bad omen.

I wouldn’t forgive myself if he didn’t win.

Not that I meant anything to him.

The fight that had just started was particularly slow. Near the end of the second round, they’d only managed to secure a punch or two. They were in defensive mode.

It was boring.

“She’s here?” I heard over the quiet of people waiting for something to happen.

His voice.

I turned in my comfy chair. One of the fighters had made some flirty comments and pulled a blanket over me.

“Everly?” Luca asked and I saw him push through some of the guys to get to me.

He looked cold in his tight fighting shorts and hoodie.

He’d take it off soon, and then… everyone would see what he was packing.

And all the other women would drool over what I had licked and stroked and kissed. “How long have you been out here?”

I thought for a moment, trying to see past the imagination of my thoughts. “Before the fights started.”

“Shit,” he muttered but stood in front of me, blocking my view of the awful fight. Just staring at him was more entertaining. “You look cute,” he said with a smile. “And comfy.”

“I am comfy,” I told him. “One of your friends got me all cosy.”

His eyes hardened immediately. “Sorry?”

“One of the guys got me the blanket.”

“Did they tuck you in?”

I laughed. “Luca—”

“Did they?”

“No, of course not!”

He breathed in. “Good. Come with me.”

“We should get a photo,” I said before he tugged me out of the chair. If he asked, I’d been out here all this time waiting for something to post about him. “I can sit on your lap or something.”

He didn’t even consider it. He just sat in my seat and tugged my thighs to sit on top of his lap. He tucked my head under his chin and then wrapped the blanket around me before passing his phone to one of his friends. “Take a photo,” he said.

“Okay, smile!”

“Not like that,” Luca laughed. “Just of us being us. Take a few at different angles or she’ll only make you do it again.”

He knew me too well.

He pressed a kiss into my hairline, then dragged his nose from my temple to my ear as he rammed some more of the blanket into my sides. “Only I will tuck you in.”

“This isn’t really the sexy look I was going for,” I whispered.

“Are we not past sexy?” he asked with a frown, murmuring in my ear still. “Are we not just comfortable?”

I wriggled on top of him. “We’re never past sexy.”

His friend cleared his throat, his hand extended with the phone. “If she doesn’t like any of the hundred I just took, you need to hire a professional.”

“Good idea,” he said, eyes still on me as I shuffled to get up. He held me back. “Don’t.”

“Can you not get up?” I laughed. I thought something had been growing beneath me. “Shame.”

I fought against his hold, my elbows worked hard so I could stand and pull him to his feet and expose his constant arousal.

“He’s not fighting you!” Marco scowled and stormed over. “You’re meant to be on his side, not damaging him.”

“I am on his side,” I said and stood in front of him, hiding his rather large modesty.

“Come with me,” Luca said, holding my hand as he walked quickly away. I tried not to howl with laughter. “I just need a moment alone with you.”

“You mean before anyone else notices you’ve got a—”

He shoved a door open and ushered me in. It was much smaller than the other rooms I’d spied on; a two-seater sofa was there, some mirrors and a desk.

“Fuck sake, Everly,” he groaned, fist on the wall. “I can’t believe you’ve given me a boner when I’m meant to be out there next.”

“That cock of yours is going to get you in trouble,” I said, trying to stifle my grin. “It’s always hard.”

He gave me a dry look, nostrils flaring. “You’re the trouble here.”

My smile was proud.

“You really need to keep that thing in check; it must be a form of erectile dysfunction the way you can’t control it.”

“Normally, I can keep it—”

“Normally?” I parroted. “You’re not going to start some spiel about how it’s only because of me, are you?”

“Fuck,” he groaned as if in pain. “Ten minutes.”

“I think our current fight is going to go to points; none of them look good enough for a knockout,” I said, walking over to him. “What should I do? Is there anything for me to wear?”

He frowned and opened one agonised eye to look down at me. A second glimpse was enough because he screwed up his eyes again as if willing his cock to go back on the flop. His voice was strained. “What you’re wearing is fine.”

“No, for when you get in the ring.”

His eyes lit up like it really was Christmas, all pain gone.

“Did you want to be my ring girl?”

“I miss being your grid girl, so…”

“Fuck, this is not helping,” he groaned and waved a hand over his crotch. “Okay, you’ve got to go. You’ve got to get out of here. I can’t go out there hard like this.”

“What if I could help?”

“Nothing about your presence is helpful in moments like this and you know it,” he laughed tartly. “Just thinking about you twirling around out there for me… fuck, Everly, please go.”

But I stood against the door, checking it was closed as I put all my weight against it. And unbuttoned my shirt.

“No, no, no,” he cried, waving his hand as if to stop himself from seeing. Too bad his eyes were glued on my cleavage. “Everly Bacque, that is the opposite of helpful.”

“Don’t you want to see what I was prepared to wear to support my boyfriend?”

“Nope,” he said through gritted teeth. “Nope, I do not. I cannot.”

“You can,” I said and stopped his hand from moving and guided it to my black lace bra. “Look at the embroidery,” I demanded. “It’s green. Same colour as your shorts.”

Same colour as Ciclati.

“What a good groupie you are,” he teased, looking me over with hooded eyes and deep breaths.

“Groupie, huh?” I said, head snapping back at the insult as I pushed off the door. “You don’t get to touch the groupie. You don’t get help from the groupie.”

“You were hardly helping, Everly,” he said and glared down at his cock. I could see the outline of his size through his shorts. “You call making me harder helping?”

“I wasn’t helping yet.”

His eyes narrowed, then lifted to mine. “What did you have in mind?”

They narrowed further as I wetted my bottom lip.

“Everly.”

“I was going to use my mouth,” I confessed. “To get you to come.”

He leaned back against the wall, blinking as I’d stunned him. “Fuck, Everly. Don’t tease. I’m going to go out there with the hardest cock I’ve ever had. That’s not fair.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

“You were,” he said, but there were a few creases between his brows as he considered. “Weren’t you?” he asked, less sure.