I focused only on the ring, on the two fighters… on my fighter.
Yeah, I deemed Oli as mine. He didn't know yet, but he would. God, he would tonight.
Watching them move around each other was like watching two lions about to attack, to fight to the death. But Oli was the bigger lion, the stronger one with the sharpest teeth and longest claws. There was no match. None at all.
The fighter started throwing punches, but Oli evaded them easily. He slammed his own fist into the other fighter’s face, his side, the kidneys, anywhere and everywhere. The moves were precise, full of perfection.
They were brutal and beautiful.
Back and forth, they danced, long moments of this almost intimate act, but there was violence, aggression, testosterone right at the surface. Punch. Hit. Kick. There were no rules here. Just fighting. Anything goes. I held my breath more than I breathed, my focus trained on the man I loved, the man I wanted to give myself to tonight.
The other fighter looked tired as hell, but he stayed on his feet and kept blocking Oli’s punches—or trying to, at least.
The flights Oli participated in were so raw, so unhinged, it was like he was another person, his sole focus and intent that of taking down the other guy. And he did it every single time with accuracy and precision.
The other fighter swung out, but his fist connected with the air. I actually gasped, for a moment thinking it would come in contact with Oli. I should have known better.
Oli swung out and hit the other man in the jaw. Blood erupted from the fighter’s mouth, spraying along the mat. Sweat covered Oli’s chest, and his skin was a little redder from the increased blood flow right beneath the surface.
A part of me felt bad for the other fighter. He didn’t stand a chance against Oli, and already he looked like he had his ass handed to him five times over.
Time felt like it slowed as I watched in awe at what was going on right in front of me. Oli was an animal, his movements coordinated, stealthy. Precise. I was wet, ready, needing him so badly I felt crazed from it.
And then Oli went for the final blow. He reared back his heavily muscled arm and brought his fist to the side of the fighter’s face. The other man’s head cocked to the side, his eyes rolled back, and he was down. He was out.
“And he’s fucking out, everyone!” The announcer roared it through the speakers, and I would have covered my ears for how loud it was, but I was too transfixed by the sight of Oli.
Heat flooded me. Wetness continued to soak my panties.
I want him. I need him.
I let out a breath, not realizing I’d been holding it in. And he slowly turned, his head moving back and forth through the crowd. He was searching, looking for someone.
He was looking for me. I knew that as soon as his eyes landed on mine, watched as a hooded expression covered his expression, and felt the pull toward him. It was chemistry, magnetism. It was everything.
I was wet, so wet my panties were soaked. My nipples stabbed obscenely through my dress, the peaks so sensitive I could barely stand to have anything touching them.
Except for Oli. His mouth, his tongue, his big palms moving over them.
God, I was going to burn alive from my thoughts.
But tonight was different. He was different.
I didn’t know what it was, but there was this charged electricity around him that had nothing to do with the fight. It was just all him.
I was suddenly pushed forward forcefully, so hard I instinctively reached out to the person in front of me to steady myself. The guy turned around, his eyebrows low. He was then shoved from the front, which had me being pushed back again.
I lost my footing and went down hard, my palms landing on the dirty concrete floor. There was broken glass everywhere, and when I tried to rise, my hand slipped out from under me. I hissed as something sharp sliced into my palm. I brought my hand up and saw the gash on my hand, blood welling up before sliding down to my wrist. The crash of bodies all around me, the constant movement, made it nearly impossible to right myself.
But then something shifted, the air changed, becoming colder, harder. People all around me started moving backward frantically. I felt my eyes widen as I saw a flash of movement in front of me, then another one, and another. Then the guy who I’d bumped into was flung aside as if he weighed nothing, as if he were a gnat in the way of the man currently standing over me.
The look on his face was cold and murderous, but as he looked into what I felt were my wide, fear-laced eyes, something softened in his expression. He picked me up off the floor right away, cradled me to his body, and started pushing through people.