My Boyfriend’s Boxer Daddy Read Online Lena Little

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
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"Come over here and stand in front of the bag."

I step up, placing my hands on either side. The bag is huge, and when I give it an experimental push, it's shockingly heavy.

"Okay." Porter steps up behind me and puts his hands on my hips.

The touch makes a flash of warmth come over my entire body, and I have to suppress a gasp. His fingers are strong, his palms hot, and I'm instantly aroused. There’s an ache between my legs begging to be sated.

"Don't move. Stay completely still."

I don't answer, too busy concentrating on keeping my breathing under control and my legs from rubbing together. I feel so empty inside.

Porter reaches down and takes one of my hands, gently pulling it from the bag and placing it into a fist. "Now, you're going to extend your arm out. Keep your thumb outside the fingers." He moves my hand around, and I'm surprised at how gentle he is. He's so big, I figured he would be a brute, but he's very tender.

"Okay," he says, taking a step closer to me. I can feel his breath on the back of my neck, and goosebumps rise. "Now, you're going to lean back and swing. You'll hit with your first two knuckles. Do it."

I swallow hard, trying not to think about how close he is or how his scent overpowers my senses. He smells like leather and spice, warm and comforting but a major turn-on all at the same time. I want to bury my face in his neck and inhale until the scent is imprinted on my brain.

Taking a deep breath, I swing forward and hit the bag with a thump.

"That's it!" Porter cries, giving me a squeeze. "Perfect, sweetheart. Do it again."

I obey, throwing another punch, this time a little harder.

"Great! You're a natural." He laughs, and it makes me feel warm.

He guides me through the motions, having me repeat the same movement over and over again. Once he's satisfied with my form, he has me throw a few punches towards him while he holds a blocker. I don't have a lot of strength, but I'm pleased with how much better it feels after having the correct instructions.

"Alright, I'm going to leave you to practice that while I grab some weights," he says, turning and walking towards a nearby shelf. I watch him go, admiring the way his shirt hugs his broad shoulders, his waist tapered down, the perfect curve of his⁠—

"Oh, and Bailey?" Porter calls, not turning around. "You can put your hands down now."

I whip my gaze away, and I can feel the redness creeping over my cheeks. I have no idea how he knew I was watching him, but I'm mortified.

Mortified, but for the first time in a while, feeling so much better about my ex issue. Even if Porter is just my trainer, something about him makes me safe. Safe and alive in ways I've never felt before.

Porter might be trouble, but I think he's the good kind of trouble.

"You look like you've been run over by a bus."

Renae has been my friend since I moved to Chicago, maybe my only real one in the entire city. I moved here just last year to attend the University of Illinois for sports medicine, and now that school's out for the summer, most of the other students in my dorm are going home.

For me, though, it isn't that easy.

I am the oldest of four. When I was eight, my father left my mother for another woman and we hadn’t seen him since. When I still lived at home, there was barely room for all of us. Now that I've moved out, my youngest sister, who had to share her room with Mom before, finally has her own space. It would break her heart if I moved back and she was forced out of her new room.

So when the guy I had been dating for two months suggested I just stay with him for the summer and go back to the dorms next semester, it seemed like the perfect plan. At first, Ian promised to be a gentleman—he even said he'd sleep on the couch so I could have the bed. But as the day of move-in grew closer, he got weirder and weirder. Pushy, wanting to touch me more than I was comfortable with, the whole nine yards. I was starting to panic about living with him, even for a brief time.

My savior came in the form of Renae, a classmate living in a rental house owned by her family for basically free and who had ample room for me. When I confessed to her that I was starting to really worry about Ian, she immediately offered me a place to stay. I've never felt more relief than at that moment.


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