Alexei barely ducked in time to avoid Spider’s fist flying toward him. It was Spider’s first time back in the ring since he’d been beaten badly enough to go to hospital, and he was clearly trying to prove himself with more than his usual viciousness.

But Alexei couldn’t entirely blame Spider for his near-miss. His head wasn’t in the fight. It was still back with Evie, in her apartment. Her bed. They’d barely left it for two days as they explored each other, and she slowly learned to trust him.

His chest puffed out in pride at the thought. He’d made her feel safe enough, protected enough, that she could let loose with him. Earlier this afternoon, she’d even let him be on top.

Spider kicked Alexei’s knee and he went down hard, cursing himself for his inattention. He forced his mind off Evie and onto the fight before him. It was clear McCready wasn’t done punishing him yet for taking Evie to the gym. Spider was giving it his all and clearly wanted to do some damage.

Alexei rolled out of the way as Spider tried to take advantage of his position, but he didn’t quite make it back onto his feet before Spider delivered a punishing kick to his ribs.

Alexei growled and lashed out with a punch that caught Spider in the nuts and the other man howled in pain and stumbled backwards. Alexei gained his feet as Spider panted on the other side of the cage, glaring at Alexei.

Alexei chanced a glance at McCready, standing at his usual spot at the back of the crowd. He was surrounded by people, including his personal fighters; Wyatt, who didn’t seem completely ensconced as a member of his private army; and a number of the champagne girls in gold hot pants.

But he was aloof, above it all, glaring at Alexei.

For the first time, Alexei acknowledged his time here might be numbered. If McCready was still holding a grudge after Alexei was sure they’d worked it out in the ring last time, then maybe this was a permanent state of being. And as confident as Alexei was in the cage, he knew he wouldn’t last long if he had McCready and his crew gunning for him.

Panic clutched at him. He had no idea what he’d do if he got kicked out of these fights, or had to leave. He had no other skills, nowhere to go. He couldn’t get another job, because he didn’t have a green card. The unique position of McCready’s fights—the fact that this was Alexei’s area of expertise and the man didn’t ask questions about residency—would be difficult, if not impossible, to find again.

Surely he wouldn’t have to go back to Russia? He had to find a way to stay here in America. He couldn’t go where his father might find him.

He turned back to Spider. He’d just have to prove himself, prove he was valuable to McCready.

The panic turned into fear, which combined with the adrenaline surging through his veins. The potent mix turned into something akin to rage. A blind, mindless urge to hurt and do violence, all directed at Spider.

He stormed forward as Spider straightened, trepidation on his face. Alexei slammed his fist into Spider’s solar plexus, knocking the man back. He head butted him for good measure, and Spider stared up at him with dazed eyes.

“Fight back,” he growled.

Spider weakly put up his hands, landing a punch not at his usual strength.

“Fight back,” Alexei hissed, shoving the other man into the cage. It rattled but didn’t tip, McCready having learned his lesson from when Diego and Spider had fought last.

Spider shook his head to clear it, then bared his teeth in a savage grin. Triumph raced through Alexei. Finally.

Spider charged, Alexei spun out of the way. When Spider whirled back around to face him, Alexei backhanded the guy across the cheek. Spider moved with the movement so it didn’t hit as hard, then aimed a kick at Alexei’s stomach.

Alexei barely felt it.

He strode forward and planted his hands on one side of Spider. Before the other man realised what he was doing, Alexei lifted him above his head in a dead weight. Spider was short, but he was broad and heavily muscled, and Alexei’s arms shook from the burden. When he couldn’t stand it a second longer, he dropped Spider straight onto the ground. The man hit with an audible thump, then groaned in pain.

The crowd beyond the cage were silent, eerie spectators. But Alexei could feel their eyes fixated on him, riveted, waiting to see what he’d do next.

Some of the anger that had driven him melted from his body as he looked down at Spider, hunched on the floor. He looked over at McCready again, but the man’s expression was inscrutable. Had Alexei proved his worth as a fighter, a spectacle? Or had he just angered him further by beating one of his favourite fighters?

Alexei didn’t know. And that frightened him more than anything else. If he lost his job—as brutal as it may be at times—what would happen to him? Worse, what would happen between him and Evie? He couldn’t continue to be with her. Not if he had no income, and lost his apartment. Not if he got deported back to Russia, or ended up living on the streets. It wouldn’t be fair to her.

He clenched his jaw, ready to take whatever McCready would dish out. For now, he stepped out of the ring and headed out of the filthy warehouse they always fought in.

He’d go home to Evie, lose himself in her, for as long as he could.

For as long as they might last.

 

 

The adrenaline from the fight still pumped through Alexei’s veins by the time he made it back to his apartment building. He almost let himself into his own apartment, not sure he should be trusted around Evie when he was in this mood.

But he found himself knocking on her door before he knew it. He ran his hand through his hair while he waited, trying to tame it. He knew he’d look like a mess, he always did after he fought.

Evie opened the door, wearing jeans, a tank top and a smile. Something deep in his chest kicked to life at the sight of her, looking so happy. He strode forward and snatched her up into his arms, kissing her with an intense passion.

She responded, throwing her arms around his neck and opening her mouth to his kiss.

He had just enough brain power to think Slava Bogu, Thank God, before he kicked the door shut and then pushed her against it. He hadn’t frightened her with his desperation. Instead, it was like she’d missed him, too, and had been waiting for him.

He picked up her legs and wrapped them around his waist, feeling like they belonged there. He ground his already-hard cock into her and she gasped in his ear, head thudding back against the door.

He placed hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses along her neck, down to her cleavage. She arched her spine to give him better access, and he took full advantage. He found her nipple and lightly closed his teeth over it through the thin fabric of her tank top. She groaned and flexed her hips so her clit rubbed against his cock through both their jeans.

It wasn’t enough. He needed to be inside her.

First, he stripped off her top since he didn’t have to let her down to do so, then his own. He unhooked her legs from around his waist and she let out a slight sound of disappointment. But he went straight for the buttons on her jeans, fingers clumsy in his desperation. She understood, knocking his hands aside to do it herself.

He undid his own belt and buttons, shucking his jeans in record time. He pulled out a condom before he let them drop and rolled it onto his hard cock while she shimmied out of her panties.

As soon as she was done he picked her up and pressed her against the door. She gasped, her cheeks flushed and her eyes dark as their gazes locked.

He had just enough presence of mind to test her readiness with his fingers, and sent up a prayer to a God he no longer believed in when he found her wet and ready. He thrust into her, not gently, and groaned as her tight heat wrapped around him. She bit his shoulder as he moved, and the sensation sent a bolt of heat straight to his groin.

He drew back and thrust again. The door rattled faintly behind her as he did so, and it reminded him of how they’d first met, how this had all began.

Even if their time was short, he’d be grateful he had her. But he couldn’t believe that this was it, that soon she’d be out of his life. She was his. He loved her, whatever good that did her. And he wouldn’t let her go.

He thrust into her again with a panicked desperation. He wanted to brand her, bind her to his side.

She let out small sounds of pleasure with every thrust and the sounds were so sweet. He could happily hear them forever.

“Harder,” she groaned.

Alexei almost swallowed his tongue at the sensual note in her voice. He complied, slamming into her until she cried out with each pump of his hips.

She came, but it wasn’t enough even as she clenched around him. He kept going until he was mindless with it, his senses overwhelmed with the sight and scent and taste of her.

She was boneless for a long moment, but he held her upright, arms straining as he thrust into her. Soon enough she was primed again, rolling her hips with his movements.

Sweat slicked between them, hot and sweet. Alexei palmed her breasts more roughly than he’d intended, but she was too lost in the pleasure to notice. He kissed her again, clumsily, as he pumped his hips.

She came again on a hard cry and this time Alexei, too, fell over the edge. He let out a hoarse yell, pushing into her as far as he could.

Evie slumped against him. Alexei carried her to the couch before collapsing onto it, still inside her. As he slowly softened, he contemplated her ceiling. Her skin was soft as he ran his hand over her back and considered the possibility that he might have to leave her.

No. No matter what happened, he’d fight for her. He’d fight McCready and all his men, he’d fight the American government.

As long as she wanted him, he was hers.