She knew the man would have her in here at every angle and position imaginable so he could watch.

When Molly glanced up, she jumped at seeing Deacon in the doorway, watching her. “Oh, hey.”

“Food’s here.”

“Great. I’m starving.”

He stared at her, his eyes dark with an unmistakable gleam.

“What?”

“I’m gonna fuck you in the shower.”

“Now?”

He shook his head. “Soon.”

“Okay. Good to know.”

“At least twice.”

Her stomach pitched at the thought of their wet, slippery bodies sliding together, creating their own steam. “That means we’re gonna get really dirty more than once?”

“Count on it.”

•   •   •

DEACON wanted to watch a couple of fights after they ate, so Molly curled up next to him on the couch. He trailed his fingers up and down her arm, the touch both soothing and erotic in its repetitiveness.

After dating a couple of sports guys, she expected he’d yell at the TV, trash-talk the guys fighting, but he didn’t. He grunted a couple of times when the welterweight challenger landed hard kicks. Besides that, he watched in near silence.

“How many fight tapes do you study before a bout?”

“Every one I can get my hands on. But at my level it’s slim pickin’s.”

“Why?”

“Because of my professional amateur status,” he said dryly.

“But you are a professional.”

“My win-loss record will back that up. The number of fights I’ve been in over the years will also back that up. But the officially sanctioned fights by the big fight organizations? I’m still an infant. I’ve had to beat any guy in my weight division that’s up-and-coming or even washed-up. That’s why the Needham fight is important.”

“Does he watch fight tapes of you?”

“He should. But rumor is he thinks I’m a joke. He’s called me ‘a street thug with a questionable fight record.’”

Molly turned her head to look at him. “Who’d you hear that from?”

“Needham trains in a public gym. Shit gets said and passed around. And that’s a perfect example of why Maddox insists on a closed practice. No one can video our training drills with their phones.” His lips curled into a nasty grin. “That fucker Needham has no idea how helpful the bootleg videos of his practices have been to me.”

“Where do you find them?”

“YouTube.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. All my fights from smokers the last three years are on there. So when I beat Needham, any organization that’s interested in signing me will look there first to see my progression.” He kissed the top of her head. “Sorry for boring you.”

“Nothing about you bores me, Deacon.”

“What job did you have in Colorado Springs?”

“A couple of updated exterior shots of businesses. We probably would’ve turned it down if we hadn’t been right there.”

“Why?”

“The need for custom photography has dropped off significantly in the three years I’ve been at Hardwick. Presley and I had fun, though.” Until she got that stupid phone call on the way back to Denver.

Deacon tipped her face up. “What happened?”

Man. He’d picked up on that fast. “Jennifer and Brandi decided to include me on a phone conference.”

His gaze sharpened. “Does your lawyer know about this?”

“He does now. And it was stupid. I shouldn’t have answered.”

“I’d tell you to block their numbers from your phone . . . but I know you won’t do it.”

He was right—she hated that he was right. It made zero sense why she couldn’t just end all contact with them. She’d sworn she’d do it. But she hadn’t followed through.

“What is the worst thing that could happen to you if you block them?”

“Nothing. My life would be better, wouldn’t it?” She sighed. “Maybe I should hand my phone to you and have you do it.”

“Nothing wrong with cutting people out of your life who treat you like dog shit, babe.”

“Speaking from experience?” she asked.

He snorted. “You have no idea.”

“Who’d you drop-kick out of your life?”

Deacon didn’t answer for so long, she assumed he wouldn’t. Shocked the hell out of her when he said, “My mother.”

Major reveal about his family. “How long ago since you excised her from your life?”