Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 95(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 95(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
But things were different with Sloan. He called me beautiful and made me believe it; maybe for the first time in my life. What he said was true; being near him made me feel complete. I instinctively trusted him, and it felt as if I’d known him forever…even though all I really knew about him was his name and occupation. I craved to learn more about him. I wanted to know everything.
My jaw dropped when Sloan stepped around the corner. He looked just as mouthwatering fully dressed as he did in only a pair of boxing shorts. His black V-neck t-shirt clung tightly to his torso, showing the ridges of muscles it concealed. Dark jeans hugged his thick thighs, and I craved a view of his backside.
“It will be a bit crazy out there,” Sloan warned, nodding towards the locker room door. “Fans and media always have trouble with boundaries. Just stay close to me.” He held out his arm and I quickly nuzzled into his side. Even if there wasn't a crazy crowd waiting for us, there was nowhere else I'd rather be.
Sloan pulled the door open and we were met with a barrage of camera snaps, microphones, and loud questions. Reporters shoved one another, trying to get closer to Sloan as they screamed questions at him. And just like he said, fans weren't much better; they were clambering over themselves trying to get close to him.
One woman screamed that she wanted to have his baby, and another asked him to “sign her tits” while she shoved a marker in his face. I normally shied away from confrontation. I wasn't a violent man. But I wanted to punch both of the women square in the nose. Or the tits. I snorted at the mental image of using the woman's ridiculously huge implants like a speed bag.
But Sloan took it all like the champ he was; he moved past the crowd with purpose, but without pushing anyone. He gave concise but respectful words to the media, and even politely but obviously declined the tit lady. He was born for the spotlight.
Once upon a time, I dreamed of a similar life. Not in the boxing world, obviously; physically, because I was squishy and weak, and mentally because I was a pushover. But I did have dreams of grandeur. However, I was told by someone close to me that I wasn’t cut out for it. Feeling the anxiety in my chest from the chaotic scene around me, I wondered if that person was right.
After we finally waded through the crowd in the long hallway, Sloan pushed open a back door and we slipped outside into the cool evening. The sudden change from thunderous noise to dead silence made my ears feel like they were stuffed with cotton.
“Thank you for holding them off,” Sloan told Christos, whom I didn’t realize followed us outside.
“It was my pleasure. You’re going to catch hell tomorrow for not sitting for a press conference, though.”
“Hopefully I won’t be here tomorrow,” he replied with a smile, which Christos copied. My heart dropped; was Sloan going on a trip? I’d just met the man, but the thought of being apart from him physically hurt.
Visions danced in my mind of jetting off with Sloan to a tropical vacation; relaxing by the ocean all day before making love all night. Then we’d come home to fill out our wedding registry. Ooh, I am definitely registering for those black satin sheets I saw online.
I shook my head hard, bringing myself back to reality. What the hell is wrong with me? First of all, I didn’t have many friends to buy anything from a registry. Second, and most importantly, I just met this man!
“I’ve got a good feeling about tonight,” Christos nodded. “Midnight as usual?” Wait, is Christos coming on the trip? That certainly put a hitch in my imaginary plans.
“See you then.” Sloan gave his friend a quick, manly, back-slapping hug before Christos disappeared into the building once more. Then he took me under his arm again and led me into a mostly-empty back parking lot, and a black SUV. It was a few years old, and though it appeared to be in good shape, was nothing fancy.
“This is yours?” I asked, and Sloan nodded. “Huh. I pictured a famous fighter driving a super snazzy sports car or something.” I flinched at how unintentionally rude my words sounded. “Not that this isn’t nice! It’s way nicer than anything I’ve ever driven.”
I stopped babbling when Sloan chuckled and kissed the top of my head. I was too wrapped up in my own warm and fuzzies to say anything. “Worldly treasures have never been my desire.” He dropped another kiss before adding, “But I will buy you anything you wish.”
This guy is too good to be true, ran through my head before a second, selfish thought of, maybe I’ll get those sheets after all. He opened the passenger door for me and I climbed inside. As he rounded the vehicle to the driver’s side, I realized I’d learned several important things about Sloan; he was strong, protective, respectful, and humble.