Hot-Bites, Volume Two by Jenika Snow
Chapter One
Cooper
“Great workout, Coop. You’re almost back to your old form,” Coach says. His name is Matthew, but I’ve known him all of my life and all I’ve ever heard him called is Coach.
I grab the towel he’s holding and rub the sweat off my face. He’s lying through his ass, but I’ll play along. I don’t have a damn thing better to do.
“Yeah, I’m getting there,” I grunt, trading him lie for lie.
I’m nowhere near where I used to be. I’m supposed to be training for what everyone has deemed my comeback match.
Cooper Gaines, kickboxing champion.
That’s who I was. It’s sure as fuck not who I am now. I spent my life surging to the top of my sport and overnight it was history. The next thing I know, I’m talking on my cellphone making a reservation at the Mojito and a drunk driver T-bones me. Everything from there is a blur, except the therapy it took to get my leg to bend after the metal they put in it. And then there’s my shoulder. It might not have gotten metal like my leg, but it sure as hell doesn’t cooperate like it used to.
I didn’t want to come back; I was done with everything. I let Coach talk me into it. He needed my name to make his business viable again. He needed the publicity. He was about to lose his club and he wouldn’t take money from me. He called it charity. I owe Coach everything.
So here I am.
“You’ve got three months left, Coop. You’ll get there,” he says and I don’t know who he’s trying to convince—me or him.
I don’t bother replying to that. Neither one of us wants to hear what I’ve got to say.
“I’ve got some paperwork for you to fill out,” Coach says as I down a bottle of water, letting the cold numb the pain.
“What kind of papers?”
“Just releases for the publicity. My lawyers are making me dot my I’s and cross my damn T’s. I just need your signature. Jo has the papers in the office. Just drop by on your way out, it won’t take a minute.”
“Okay,” I tell him. I wanted to pull out of this shit, but if getting my ass beat in the ring helps Coach, I’ll do it. A man ain’t shit if he doesn’t have loyalty. Coach saved my life, pulled me off the streets and gave me goals. I owe him. “See you tomorrow, old man.”
“Later, Coop.”
I make my way up the stairs that lead to Coach’s office, wanting nothing more than to get the hell out of here and drown myself in a bottle of Jack. I open the door and come to a dead stop.
Standing in front of me is a fucking wet dream. She can’t be more than five-foot-four, a small package for sure, but compared to me she’s tiny as fuck. Despite her petite frame, she’s packing curves a man could run his hands over for years and never get enough. She’s wearing a tight little white shirt and a skirt that fits her like a fucking second skin. Long blonde hair that she has bunched up on top of her head in a fucking bun, and black-rimmed glasses. She’s high class all the way.
She belongs in a fucking library or a preschool surrounded by kids, not in a dirty gym that smells like shit. Christ, those tits of hers are so damn big a man’s dick could live there. I feel my cock stretch against my gym shorts. Fucker’s been all but dead since the accident, but he’s definitely alive and willing right now.
“Can I help you?” she asks, and Christ Almighty… her voice is just as good as the rest of her.
“Looking for Jo,” I tell her, clearing my throat.
“I’m Jo,” she murmurs. Her gaze travels over the length of me, and she blushes a deep red and I know she’s taking in the way my cock is tenting my shorts. My lips spread into a deep grin.
“That’s the first good news I’ve had in years,” I tell her honestly. She backs away from me, stumbling against the desk. I’d lay odds that she’s innocent. I’ve never had that. I definitely want her. I’m going to enjoy the fuck out of dirtying her up. I’ll start with undoing that hair, and setting those tits free …. and eventually coming all over them.
