She blew him a kiss that was so exaggerated she came off her feet when she swung her arm wide. Then she turned instantly to the seat, snatched up her purse and coat and her eyes came to me.
She leaned into me and said low, “Right, Operation Tag Team commence. You got Bryant. I get home with my man and get laid. You text when Jake’s done, drop Eath and Bry at our place so you can get laid. Yeah?”
I nodded, enjoying the happy light in my friend’s eyes and trying to ignore the happier feeling between my legs considering what was to come for me.
“Yes,” I agreed.
She lifted her fist, knuckles facing me, something Conner had taught me about a week ago was a “fist bump.” He did this after he did the same to me and I stared at his hand nonplussed for half a minute before he showed me what to do.
Thus, I knew what to do, bumped my fist against hers, and she breathed, “I love fight night.”
I giggled as I encouraged, “Go.”
I needed to give her no further encouragement. She dashed to her son, grabbed either side of her face, gave him a loud kiss right on the mouth, which made him shout, “Euw, Mom!”
She then tousled his hair, looked to Ethan and said, “Later, buddy.”
“Later, Mrs. Harper,” Ethan replied.
Alyssa gave me a finger wave and took off down the aisle.
“Can we get popcorn?” Bryant asked and I looked to him.
“Think hard about your stomach, the fullness of it, the possibility if more was introduced that it may need to purge some to fit the rest and then tell me if you really want popcorn,” I stated.
“What’s purge mean?” he asked.
“Evacuate,” I answered and he grinned.
“What’s evacuate mean?” he asked.
At that, I grinned.
“Empty,” I answered.
“You talk so freakin’ cool,” he replied. “Weird. But cool.”
“Indeed. And you will find, young Bryant, as you grow older that things that are normal are just normal. Anyone can be normal. Thus it’s my experience that most things that are weird are cool.”
“So you sayin’ we should try to be weird, Josie?” Ethan asked, a teasing glint in his eye.
“I’m saying that you shouldn’t try to be anything. You should be you and however you are will be cool unless however that is, is you trying to be like everyone else, which is just normal, which is not cool,” I answered.
“Well, I’ve decided to be a con artist turned FBI consultant like that dude in White Collar. Is that weird and cool enough for you?” Ethan shared his latest plans for his future, that teasing glint still in his eye.
This was a program that Ethan had recently discovered on Netflix. I knew this because he not only told me but he also talked about it all the time. And watched it all the time. And as I was with him a fair amount of that time, I watched it too.
It was an excellent program.
However, a life goal to be a con artist, even a stylish and intelligent one who had a definite flair with wearing a fedora, such as “the dude on White Collar,” was not optimal.
“If you skip past the con artist part, and simply aim to be an FBI agent, yes,” I answered.
He shook his head but did it grinning.
I looked to Bryant and prompted, “Your popcorn assessment?”
“I’m thinkin’ I wanna keep those fifteen Kit Kats in my stomach, Ms. Malone,” Bryant replied.
“Good choice,” I murmured.
We settled in, me examining the crowd, the boys jabbering to each other. We then watched the next fight, Mickey’s, the boys encouraging him rather boisterously to win, and although I didn’t shout, I did clap when Mickey’s arm was lifted.
It was after that I started to get excited.
Because Mickey’s victory heralded the last fight of the night.
Jake’s fight.
As the delay between fights began to feel incessant, I started fidgeting. But when the announcer introduced the fighters, like everyone else, I came out of my seat, clapping, but doing it on legs that were trembling.
I felt my mouth go dry when I saw Jake coming down the aisle. I then felt my heart swell when he stopped at our row, put a gloved hand to Bryant’s head, then Ethan’s.
And I found it took everything to remain standing when his eyes came to me. They heated instantly before they swept me from top to toe. They came back to my face and they were even more heated which made it even more difficult to remain standing.
I had, of course, tricked myself out.
This being that I had my hair down but curled so there seemed more of it.
Much more.
And I had a midnight blue dress on, high collar and halter, which left my shoulders and back totally bare. The dress was almost blousy at the bust but clung rather alluringly everywhere else. It had a slit up the front and came to just below the knee. And last, the midnight blue had an almost elusive wave of burnished silver through it so I also had on my delicate, very strappy and very high-heeled silver sandals.
It would seem Jake appreciated my efforts.
Very much so.
And I appreciated his appreciation.
Very much so.
Finally, he released my eyes, which he was holding captive, and went to the ring.
I thankfully sank into my seat.
But the fidgeting had not stopped.
No, because shortly after, the fight started.
Jake did not knock his opponent out in the first round this time. It went all three. Which was sheer torture for I was very ready for it to be over when it was finally over since watching Jake fight meant I was ready for it to be over about one minute into round one.
But one could not say that watching him box, the brute force, the focus, his muscles moving, his body shifting, his utter command of not only the fight, not only the ring, but the entire arena, was a sight to behold.
Even so, I was beyond thrilled when his hand was lifted at the end. I again rose from my seat, shooting from it this time, clapping fast and hard, smiling wide.
Jake gave the boys a smile and me a wink as he walked back up the aisle and hurriedly I turned to Ethan and Bryant.
“All right, boys. Get your things. Check around to make sure you didn’t forget anything. Let’s go,” I urged.
They did as told. I slid on my coat and grabbed my bag. When we were ready, I herded them up the aisle and to the door to the locker rooms.
The same security man was there and he smiled at me when I approached with the boys.
“Same room, babe,” he told me.
I nodded and ushered the boys through the door. We hurried down the hall to Jake’s door but this time, I knocked.
“Yo!” we heard from the other side.
Ethan charged in, followed by Bryant, and I came up the rear.
I felt a rush of wet between my legs when I saw Jake in the same position as last time, sitting on the table in his trunks, his friend and trainer, Bert, standing in front of him.
“Dad! You killed it!” Ethan shouted, rushing up to his father to give him a hug.
Jake jumped off the table to get it and hugged him back. When they separated, he looked down to his son. “Like that?”
“Heck yeah!” Ethan yelled.
“You’re the master, Mr. Spear,” Bryant told him.
“Thanks, Bry,” Jake murmured on a grin to Bryant then he came to me.
He got close, slid an arm around my waist and put his mouth to my ear.
“Love my kid, babe, you know it. But get him and his bud in the car, dump them on Alyssa and meet me at your place. Fast.”
He had his gloves off but, as I mentioned, he was still only in his trunks. Thus, as he was speaking, I had a view of his shoulder, which, when he leaned back, became a view of his slick chest.
My eyes lifted to his, and suddenly incapable of speech, I nodded.
His eyes dropped to my dress then came back to my face.
“Fast,” he ordered, his voice low.
“Okay, darling,” I forced out.
He dropped his arm and moved away. I turned my eyes to Bert.
“Hello, Bert,” I greeted.
“Good to see you, Josie,” he replied.
I felt that did well enough for the niceties so I clapped my hands and said, “Right, boys. Let’s go. Time to hit the Cayenne.”
Ethan looked to me. “I dig the Cayenne, Josie, but we wanna ride with Dad.”
“Got stuff to do here, bud. It’s gettin’ late. Go with Josie,” Jake replied.
“But—” Ethan started.
“Bud. Josie,” Jake stated firmly.
Ethan held his eyes then looked to his feet and muttered, “All right.”
I put a hand to Ethan’s shoulder and started herding him and Bryant again, calling my farewell, “I’ll see you at the gym sometime, Bert.”
“Yeah, Josie,” Bert replied.
I looked to Jake. “Later, darling.”
He looked to me and firmly in a way that was not a farewell but a promise, he said, “Later.”
That got a thigh quiver that was very strong so I had to force myself to focus on getting the boys to my car.
I texted Alyssa after I started up the Cayenne and then I took the boys to her house.
Alyssa, in a robe with very mussed hair, answered the door and accepted delivery, but she did this with a sated smile and a lascivious wink.
I winked back (mine probably not lascivious), moved quickly back to my car and drove carefully, but swiftly, to Lavender House.
Jake’s truck was in the lane and I could see lights coming from the windows at either side of the front door.
I got out of the Cayenne and hurried to door.
It opened before I got there.
Seeing it open, in my excitement, I stumbled, but Jake’s arm shot out and caught me around the waist, pulling me forward so I collided with his body. He kept me pressed there as he dragged me into the house, slammed the door and locked it. He then shifted me to the side and pressed me against the wall.
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