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Page 70 of Invisible String (The Underground #1)

RAINEY

A nnette eyes me the second she walks in. Now that I know Max has never been with her, I don’t feel any sense of jealousy. She’s a beautiful woman. I do envy that body of muscle on her. Her legs are as thick as a tree trunk. Toned and perfect. I could have that if I worked out.

But, I don’t.

It wouldn’t be a bad idea to buy a treadmill, even a punching bag to hang in my backyard, because her stare, which could cut through glass, has me wishing I could throw a punch. I mean, I probably could throw a punch, but to her, it would feel like a mosquito caressing her cheek.

“Look who we have here. The little bitch.”

What the fuck?

I arch my brows at her. One thing I won’t do is cower to her. She might beat the shit out of me, but I won’t back down. She might be stronger than me, but there’s one thing I possess that she lacks: confidence.

“Excuse you. The only bitch I see is the one I’m looking at.”

Annette narrows her eyes, nostrils flaring. She takes large steps until she is right in front of me.

“Does it irk you, knowing he wants nothing to do with you?” I’m poking the bear, but hey, she started it.

“No, it doesn’t irk me one bit. You’re only a temp cover for him. You’ll always be the memory he wants to erase. Once he figures it out, I’ll be here waiting.”

My lips purse. If she thinks I’ll fall for her trying to knock me down, she’d better try harder. I roll my eyes at her.

“It’s a good thing you spent years apart. Did he tell you how we fooled around?”

I laugh, slapping my knee. “Max hasn’t been with you or anyone else.”

“Ahh, is that what he said? What a lie to keep you. One night at our family party, he was so drunk I felt him, stroked him. Damn, he was hard. He moaned my name. Not yours, mine.”

“Fuck you. If you had to have him drunk, what does it say about you? You take advantage of men when they’re drunk? You’re pretty pathetic.”

Annette has an inch on me. I have a feeling she’s lying to get a rise out of me. She’s so close I can smell her stench of breath. Fuck. I look her right in the eye.

“I’ve known him longer,” she throws out childishly. “A man like Max only fits well with me. You’re not his type. I’m more of his type; we have so much in common. I’m pretty certain I can pleasure him so much better.”

“You should be worried. It seems like you knocked your head too many times.”

“My head works just fine, including my tongue?—”

“Enough, Annette!” Max bellows, his face fuming with rage. “Get the fuck away from her.”

Annette jumps back, startled. Her face goes pale.

“If I ever hear you talk to my future wife like that, I’ll find someone to mess up those hands of yours.

Something could happen, and you never make it to fighting pro.

” His voice is low, dark, and dangerous.

“If I ever see you look her way, you won’t like the outcome.

” Max reaches for me, and I sneak my arm behind his bare back.

“Rainey is my type, the only type I need. There was never anyone before her, and there certainly will be no one after.” He points at me while Annette looks like she might shit her pants. Her face is full of shock.

“There will only be one woman warming my bed and only one woman holding my name, and you’re looking at the next Mrs. Cano,” he sneers at her. “Get the fuck out of my face…better yet, get out of the gym.” Max holds my hand as we walk past her.

I’m so tempted to turn and see the look on her face. But I don’t. I keep my head held high.

Every nerve in my body tingles with delight. Not that I needed Max defending me. I was doing a good job dealing with her. On the other hand, if it had gotten physical, I would have been thrown like a sack of potatoes.

“Max, I think I need you to train me to fight.”

He stops walking to face me. He tenderly grazes my chin with his index finger.

“ Tesoro, did she hit you?” He inspects my body once again. His bright green gaze rolls over my figure.

I shake my head. “No,” I say over the loud hits behind me. “I just…well, it would be good to know next time one of your admirers wants to get all in my face.” The only thing I know how to hit is my dough when I knead it, punching the air bubbles.

His head falls back in a sexy laugh. “ Eres tan preciosa para mi ,” he says in Spanish. I think it means. “You’re too precious to me.” My heart melts.

“I will teach you anything you want. Although you don’t need to use your fists to fight, baby. That’s why you have me. I’ll fight every fight for you. I’ll defend you over and over.”

I stand on my toes to kiss him, and he bends to accept it. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For always having my back.” His nose skims mine. “Mrs. Cano?” I raise a brow at him. “Is that your way of scaring her away?”

“It’s the truth. You’ll have my name soon. Rainey Cano suits you perfectly.”

My name rolling from his lips sounds more than perfect. Pristine.

“Can’t wait.”

“Yeah?” He smiles boyishly.

“Yeah. Rainey Cano fits well.”

“Soon.” His lips find mine for a small, brief kiss.

“Yuck,” a small voice groans behind us.

The small boy rocks back and forth on his heels. His cute dimples indent as he smiles at me from ear to ear.

“Hi.” I wave.

“I’m Ben.” He extends his hand. “Your hair is pretty.”

“Benito, are you flirting with my girl?” Max teases him.

Ben’s cheeks turn to red, blushing little balls. I smack Max’s chest.

“Stop,” I muse to Max, then I kneel to Ben’s height. “Are you a boxer?”

He seems to be around four or five years old. He’s holding his gloves in one hand and his wraps in the other.

He nods. “Yes. I want to be like Max when I grow up.”

My chest tightens. Max might not realize it, but he’s a great role model.

Ben peers up at Max with his big, beautiful eyes. “Can you help me again?”

“Aw,” I say when Max squats to help Ben. Max ignores me, gushing over it. He wraps Ben’s hand, then the other.

“Is it too tight? You don’t want it too tight.”

“No, it’s fine.” Ben stands still, observing every move Max makes. “Can you train me when I’m older?”

“Yeah, I can. Do you think you can handle me?” Max laughs when Ben nods. He’ll be a great father someday. I can’t wait for that.

“What?” Max asks when Ben walks toward the group of kids his age.

“Nothing.” I grin, running my fingers over the hard lines on his chest. “You are so handsome, and you’re great with kids.

Can’t wait for us to have our own someday.

” My voice carries a hint of seduction, weaving through the air like a soft melody that dances on the edges of words, inviting and coaxing.

I’m so turned on at this point. From defending me in front of another woman clearly obsessed with him to walking shirtless, then speaking words of marriage to me, being cute with kids. My ovaries are about to burst.

His breath fans my nape, and my pulse leaps. “Speak to me with that tone when referring to us having kids, will only result in me locking us up in the back room. That tone, mixed with having kids, is like waving a green flag at me.”

A shiver runs down my spine.

“If that’s what you want, I’m happy to oblige. Just say the word, and I’ll take you home and pleasure you until there’s another version of us growing in you.”

Oh.

My heart is about to gallop into a bed of rose petals.

Heaven’s sake, it doesn’t help that he’s shirtless and his shorts hang loose.

“Umm…maybe we should wait until marriage,” I blurt.

I really don’t care what comes first. At this moment, I’ll make a rational decision and have him screw me in the car.

His husky laugh gives me goosebumps. “We live in Vegas, amor mío . We can easily go through the drive-thru marriage chapel and be married in ten minutes and have you pregnant in the next twenty minutes.”

I’m about to hyperventilate all in a good way. Why do we have to have this conversation surrounded by men punching things and people when all I want to do is slide his shorts down and have my way with him?

“How romantic,” I breathe out. My eyes probably have hearts in them.

“Max,” Carlos calls out.

“Fuck,” he mumbles. “I’ll be right there,” he shouts. “We’ll continue our baby-making conversation later. How about dinner tonight? I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. Think of the place,” he says, kissing my knuckles. “Do you want to stay?”

I had a strong urge to visit Hector’s house, but that’s something I can easily postpone until tomorrow. Right now, I’d much prefer to offer my support to Max by staying here with him. The way hope lights up his face is absolutely endearing, so cute, like a lighthouse.

“Yes, I’d love to watch you. It’s my favorite thing to do.”

His lips curve, and he flexes, earning a laugh from me. Just before he walks to the weights, he kisses my cheeks and smacks my ass.

Last night was mesmerizing. As Max stood in front of the mirrored wall, he gripped the steel barbell with determination.

His muscles coiled and flexed with each powerful lift, his veins tracing an intricate map across his forearms. The sweat glistened on his tatted skin under the gym lights, highlighting every defined contour.

It was impossible to look away as he exhaled deeply and pushed himself further, the intensity in his eyes making the air around him thrum with energy. Holy shit, can he lift!

As he ducked under the ropes and stepped into the ring with Carlos, his veins bulged, like it was filling him with a euphoric rush.

Every punch he unleashed was like a bolt of lightning, crackling with energy and precision.

His feet moved with a confident rhythm, pivoting and gliding across the canvas as if he were performing a well-rehearsed dance, each step a testament to the countless hours of training.

Every second, he’d wink at me, causing me to blush, my underwear growing wetter by the minute.

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