The on-site medic finishes stitching the cut over Adam’s eye, and cleans away the blood with alcohol. His eye, which was healing, is fully black again. His forehead is swelling from the laceration, but given it was his first pro fight, it could have been a lot worse. Overall, he looks good, and happier than I’ve ever seen him.

Lou gives Adam a gentle smack on the back, and laughs heartily. “You did good out there, kid. You could have done better. You’re still dropping your right and you let him wear you down way too early. I think if you’d held your own a little more early on, you could have had him on the mat…”

“Lou, can you just let me enjoy this first victory, and then you can start tearing me apart again?”

Lou waves a dismissive hand at Adam. “Meh, don’t be ridiculous, kid. I don’t tear you down. It’s just constructive criticism. Anyway, I’m going to get out there and chat with some of the press, see if I can’t get you a little extra attention.”

I go to stop Lou, afraid of what he might say to reporters, but he’s gone before I can even take a step, leaving Adam and me alone in the locker room. For a moment, any of the awkwardness I was feeling is overwhelmed by my joy for Adam’s success, and the fact I get to keep my job.

“You were amazing, Adam. Seriously. I’m so proud of you,” I say, keeping some distance between us for good measure.

He shrugs. “It was no big deal. I just did what I do.” I stare at him with jaw dropped and my eyes wide.

“Are you kidding me? You just beat Bobby Morales in a title fight on your first time in the ring as a pro! That’s huge! You’re…”

I take a step toward him, and my heel gets caught in a crack of the tiled locker room floor. I tumble forward, and am an inch from hitting the ground when Adam reaches out and grabs me, spinning me into his arms. I look up at him and start to say thank you, but I can’t seem to form words. For a second, the entire room swirls away, leaving only us and nothing else in the world. I take a deep breath and hoist myself away from him, mumble a “thank you,” and try to regain what little sense of professional decorum I have left.

Adam is beaten and bruised, and yet I find myself drawn to him in a way I can’t describe… in a way that makes me feel a little bit wild. I slowly walk back over to him.

“Are you all right? You seem a little… down,” I ask, briefly touching his face where I can see the swelling start to really turn black and purple on his cheek. He’s going to be in a world of hurt tomorrow.

“I’m alive, aren’t I?” he replies, hanging his head slightly to wipe his face with his towel. “It’s funny, I don’t feel the pain at all. I also don’t feel any sort of joy, or sorrow, or anything after these fights. I love the sport, but I wish I felt… something. I’m just… numb.”

I’m taken aback by this. Someone who seemingly has so much passion for boxing should surely be amped up on adrenaline after every match. I can’t help but wonder if part of why he fights is to try to find himself, or his will to live, again after losing his wife. I want to help him in any way I can. Not just to become a pro boxer, because he’ll have no problem getting there. He’s talented. I want to help him feel alive again.

I tilt his head up to look at me, and stare deep into his eyes. Taking a deep breath, I ask, “Can I do anything for you?” fully expecting him to push me away. I have no business trying to get close to him when he’s in this state. But I can’t help it. The energy he exudes is electric, especially after a fight when he’s at his most vulnerable.

Adam envelops my wrist in his hand and pulls me down to sit on his lap again. I reach up, brushing his sweaty hair away. I can see the pain and loneliness in his eyes, and I want to wash it all away. I kiss his forehead, each cheek, and his chin, and make eye contact before going any further. Adam moans quietly in response.

“Is this okay?” I ask.

He reacts with an unexpected, almost aggressive fervor to my gesture. Taking my face in his hands, he kisses me hard, his tongue desperately thrusting into my mouth. My body has a mind of its own as my hands run down his still-bare, sweaty, glistening chest, stopping momentarily in his lap. I can feel his cock hardening under his boxing shorts. I pull my lips away from his for a moment, and move one leg over his lap so that I’m straddling him, my pencil skirt sliding up to the tops of my thighs. Wrapping my arms around his neck, his mouth meets mine again, more urgently than before. I can feel his burning need to have me, and I am powerless to fight it.

His hands quickly find the buttons of my blouse, but instead of bothering to undo them, he forcefully grabs the openings in the fabric and rips my shirt completely open. He works my bra little more carefully, reaching behind and expertly unhooking the clasp before throwing it carelessly in a corner. For a moment, he pulls back and just stares as I sit there, my heaving breasts on full display to him.

“Kylie… I just… wow,” he manages to stutter.

I blush lightly and smile at him. “I could say the same about you, even though your face is still swelling.”

Adam returns the smile as he grasps at my bare breasts. He begins licking and biting my nipples, sending shocks of pain and pleasure through every one of my limbs. I begin to gyrate my hips into him, my body reacting to every touch and kiss. Suddenly, I’m very aware of how hard he has become as I feel his constrained cock press into my stomach. I reach my hand into his shorts and begin stroking his length lightly, running my fingers just around the tip. Adam stops playing with me for a minute to experience the sensation.

“Kylie, it’s been so long… I’m not sure I’m going to last,” Adam mutters.

“That’s okay,” I whisper into his ear before lightly biting its lobe. “We don’t have much time anyway. It’s not like we have too much privacy here.”

Adam takes the cue and quickly stands me up. He begins to remove his shorts when I stop him. “Allow me, please.” I hook my thumbs into the elastic waistband, take the fabric into both of my fists, and pull them down over his waist, letting them drop to the floor. Adam’s massive dick, freed from its fabric constriction and the cup, springs to attention in front of me. I am frozen for a moment, staring at his sheer size and girth.

I sink to my knees in front of him and take the tip of his cock into my mouth. Adam nearly gasps at the sensation, crying out “Kylie!” as I begin carefully licking his shaft, teasing him, pushing him to the brink without letting him finish. Only mere seconds later, Adam is on his knees in front of me, pushing me carefully back onto a practice mat and sliding my skirt up around my waist, exposing my lace panties. He runs his tongue one the outside of the fabric, and I can feel the heat of his breath awakening my core.

One of Adam’s fingers slowly peels the panties aside, and I feel myself getting wet in anticipation. He pulls one of my legs over his shoulder and begins to press his cock gently into me. My fingernails dig deep into his back as I feel myself stretch to the brink to accept him. We pause for a moment, enjoying the sensations that both of us have been without for so long. Adam begins to move his hips back and forth, his long strokes teasing at every nerve within me, and I feel my climax begin to build.

“Faster,” I command, wanting desperately to be pushed over the edge by the raw energy that first drew me to him.

Adam is all too happy to acquiesce to my request, and his long strokes turn more forceful as he pumps himself into me. The friction ignites every fiber of my being, and I grasp his back hard as my release washes over me. Adam, sensing my ecstasy, empties himself into me in response. He collapses onto the mat next to me, and we both lie there in silence for what feels like an eternity as we absorb the gravity of what’s just happened.

“Thank you,” Adam finally breaks the silence. “I just… thank you.”

Suddenly, we hear a knock at the door. “Mr. Burnham?” we hear the doctor call out. “I forgot to give you your prescription for antibiotics! Don’t want that cut getting infected.”

“Oh God,” I say in a panic as I start scrambling to my feet, then make sure I am relatively pulled together. My shirt is destroyed, so I have to button my jacket over the top of it. Then I grab Adam’s shorts from the corner and toss them to him as I run to the door. I turn back and look at him one last time before I run out, scooting past the confused doctor as I go.

What have I done? Oh my God, what have I done?