No Hesitations (The Fighter Series Book 5) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright © 2017 TC Matson

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  More from TC Matson

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Connect with TC Matson

  By TC Matson

  Copyright © 2017 TC Matson

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. Copyright property of the author. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permissions of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at [email protected].

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people, whether living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously. The author recognizes the trademarks and copyrights of all registered products and works mentioned within this work.

  Dedication

  Fight hard for what you want. Fight harder to achieve it.

  Love deeply. Love harder. Love yourself.

  Respect one another.

  Chapter 1

  I’m tapping my foot against the blue and white tile floor, my black strappy heel clicking as I do it. Shifting from side to side, I rap my fingers along the black fabric of my pencil skirt and mindlessly wipe my sweaty palms every so often. I feel hot, every fiber of my being buzzing with excitement and eagerness. I’ve waited for this day for so long, I’m delirious with happiness.

  I want to pace. I need to pace. I should pace.

  Glancing around, I notice several well-dressed men in their black suits with white dress shirts holding signs with names.

  I should’ve made a sign and decorated it with silly flair just for shits and giggles.

  Beside the chauffeurs are other people I’m assuming are family members. One older gray-haired lady with large-rimmed glasses is visibly restless while she waits.

  I check my watch—two thirty-four. Any minute now!

  Finally, a push of people start funneling up the escalators exiting the baggage claim area. My pulse drills into my temples as my excitement springs through the roof. I gasp when I see her once auburn hair now dirty blonde and in tight kinky curls bounce as she hops off the top step.

  She scans the group of people.

  “Candice,” I call out, jumping slightly on the balls of my feet.

  Her round eyes land on me and her grin takes over her face. She left with only two bags, and now five suitcases—two on wheels with one sitting atop each and a duffle bag over her shoulder—are rushing toward me. We slam against each other, squealing and not being discreet about it. Regardless of how professional, how grown we are, we’re still the little ten-year-old girls in fifth grade who have never spent this much time apart since meeting.

  “It’s about time,” I say in an exhale, leaning back.

  She laughs, wiping a tear from under her eye. “You’re telling me. I feel like I’ve been gone for years.”

  “Feels like it.” I grab one of her suitcases. “How was the flight?”

  “Not fast enough. I had a snorer in the seat behind me,” she groans. “I swear the moment we took off he was snoring to the roar of the engines.”

  We make our way out of the airport and to my car, tossing her luggage into the trunk before finally hitting the interstate home.

  “Do you feel like going to the gym and meeting Ryker or would you rather just go home?” I ask, gauging her expression.

  Her head snaps in my direction. “Are you kidding me? Of course I want to go meet the man who has managed to sweep your petite toes off the ground.”

  “Are you sure? I know you just got back in. It’s just a suggestion. We don’t have to,” I say.

  “Whitney…shut up.” She laughs. “I’m tired and ready to go home but only because I have a hot date with my bed. It’ll be waiting on me when I get there.”

  I nod. “When are your parents coming back?”

  She rests her head back. “Hell if I know. I overheard them talking about the possibility of moving there. Noooo, thank you. The weather is wish-washy as hell. You could be standing in a foot of snow and then ten feet the other direction be laying out in the sun.”

  “At least you get a choice in the matter,” I snicker.

  “I prefer a seasonal choice. Not an hourly one.”

  “Sooo, no moving with them if they do?” I tease.

  She doesn’t lift her head as she turns it to me. “Not a chance. I have a business and a life here. Plus, there are good-looking men here. If I moved there my va-jay-jay would dry up, lock up, and shrivel from neglect.”

  I burst into a giggle.

  “I’m serious. There wasn’t anything to look at in that town. I’d have to travel for a good lay.”

  I park my car in the back of the gym beside Ryker’s Tundra and we hop out. Immediately upon walking through the door, I’m greeted by Ryker’s gorgeous, half-naked body glistening from sweat as he grapples on the mat with Austin, his new favorite sparring partner.

  No matter how many times I see this, it’s a damn aphrodisiac. His arms flex causing his large muscles to protrude as he grips and maneuvers. His tattooed chest tightens and juts as he uses its strength. His legs tense and contract while he quickly moves and pushes with his feet.

  He’s devastatingly attractive.

  He springs to his feet, up and away from Austin, when his brilliant blue eyes shift to me. A smile erupts across his lips. Flutters—proud and happy—explode inside of me as he stops his training.

  Candice keeps her eyes on him. “Holy hell, Whitney. Pictures don’t give him the proper justice he deserves. Good-looking is an understatement. I want to hand him my panties.”

  I choke a laugh, ripping my gaze from the sexy man walking my way to my drooling best friend. “Keep your clothes on. That is all mine.”

  “Lucky bitch,” she mutters just as he approaches.

  He hooks my waist and tugs me against his sweaty, sticky chest, placing a quick kiss to my lips before settling his view on Candice.

  “Did you have a good flight?” He keeps me tucked into his side.

  “I did.” She shifts on her feet. “So, you’re the infamous Ryker I’ve heard so much about?” She smiles teasingly.

  He looks above our heads, scanning the gym, and then bends slightly to whisper. “No. He’s up front. If he catches me wi—umph.”

  I slap his chest.

  He chuckles, his eyes twinkling at me, and then shifts his view back to Candice. “It’s good to finally meet you. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the airport.”

  She wobbles her head dismissively. “I understand.”


  Her gaze travels the length of his body, unashamed. I knew she couldn’t refrain too much longer and honestly, I’m surprised she lasted this long. If this look came from a different woman, I’d feel threatened. But not from Candice. It’s harmless, appreciative, and pleased. It makes my chest fill with pride.

  “Does your brother look as good as you?” she asks, settling her sights back to his eyes.

  I stifle a giggle. “Oh my god. You make me want to hide under a rock. Way to be inconspicuous there.”

  She laughs. “What?”

  Ryker puffs a chuckle through his nose. “No one looks as good as me.” He winks and then kisses my forehead. “I need to get back. Flynn can’t hold his patience for too long. I’ll be home soon.” He kisses me before shifting his attention away. “Welcome back,” he tells Candice.

  As we watch him stride back to the ring, I shove my arm in the crook of hers and turn my stupefied friend the opposite direction, back out the door. “Quit ogling my boyfriend.”

  “He looks at you like you’re the North Star guiding him to safety.” She sighs. “You’ve struck gold, Whitney,” she says over the roof of my car.

  We slide in and I back out of the spot, taking her home. About two minutes in, her silence breaks.

  “How is he in bed?” she asks dead serious.

  I suck in a breath. “Do what?”

  “I know you’re not the kiss and tell type, but give me something here,” she laughs.

  “And give you ammo to daydream about him while you do god knows what? Not a chance,” I say giggling.

  She grins widely. “I love how in love you are with him.” She twists in her seat and rests the side of her head on the headrest. “Seriously, I’m happy as hell to see you smiling this way.”

  “It’s because you’re finally home,” I jest.

  “Because I’m way more important than the man of your dreams,” she deadpans.

  We haul her luggage up the dreaded three flights of stairs and enter into a stale smelling, unlived apartment. She groans, abandoning her set of suitcases and opens the front windows before moving to the sliding glass door in the kitchen. I take her bags to her bedroom.

  As I pad back down the hall, I witness her belly flop onto the couch, face first and moan overdramatically with pleasure.

  “Home, sweet home.” Her voice is muffled by the cushions.

  “Have you thought any more about my proposition?” I ask, taking a seat in her recliner.

  Over a week ago, I offered for her to move into my house but she quickly dismissed it and changed the subject.

  She rolls her head to look at me.

  “I’ve talked to Ryker plenty about it. I don’t want to sell my house to just anyone. But it’s just sitting there, offering a pretty view without an owner. Please put some serious thought into it.”

  She pushes up, her expression a bit peeved. Before she can protest I hold my hand up interrupting her. “I know you hate handouts, but this isn’t one. I discussed everything. You’ll do us both a favor—you out of this apartment and into a house. And I’ll have peace of mind knowing my house, my first home, is well taken care of.”

  “Are you done tossing a pitch at me?” She sounds irked.

  I nod.

  “I have thought about it and I have a few things that need to be reconsidered if you want me to do it. I won’t accept you just giving me your house. Not for one second. We decide on a final offer and I make monthly payments until I reach our agreement. I will not accept a freebee. It’s absolutely nonnegotiable.”

  I’m chewing my lip. “Are you going to be mad if it’s a super low price?”

  “Don’t be mad if I feel it’s unfair and decline.” Her full lips set into a straight line for a moment. “We’ll sit down with Mr. Rickter and draw up a contract.”

  I tilt my head. “You know we don’t need lawyers. We can write something up ourselves. I trust you.”

  “This isn’t about trust. This is business. Separate it.”

  I smile. “I missed you.”

  When she stands, so do I. “My date is calling me. I bet it’s ready to feel my naked body on it.”

  I give a small laugh. “Are you not hungry? I can order a pizza if you’d like.”

  She waves her hand dismissively. “All I want to do is take a hot shower and then climb under my sheets. I filled up on those fancy little bags of nuts on the plane. They’ll hold me over until tomorrow.” She hugs me. “Thank you for handling all my events and clients while I was gone. I hope it wasn’t too much on you.”

  “Everything went well. I was happy to help.”

  “I think I’m going to take the rest of the week off and come back strong on Monday,” she informs me.

  “Nothing big is happening. Lily is handling a corporate luncheon on Saturday, but that’s all.”

  She smiles warmly and pulls me into another hug. “I’ve missed you.”

  Chapter 2

  Flynn and Daniel, my hard-ass coaches, kicked my ass today. It was their going away present to themselves before flying back home for the weekend. My fight with Parsons is approaching fast and we’re all fucking ready to have this shit happen. He’s my last stop before hitting the pros and getting that contract. Parsons is going to have one hell of a fiercely determined motherfucker on his hands. I’m ready to vindicate my name.

  Whitney called earlier and told me we were going out to eat with Candice tonight. I didn’t have a say, but frankly, as long as I’m with her, I don’t give a damn what the hell I’m doing. She could drag me to a vile opera and I’d gladly wear a smile beside her.

  She’s my weakness.

  I’m powerless when it comes to her.

  She’s just getting out of the shower as I make my way into the bedroom. Her body is wrapped in one of her pink fluffy ass towels and her long, wet strands are brushed.

  Her golden-brown eyes brighten when she looks into the mirror and spots me. “Hey. You’re home early.”

  “Coaches had a plane to catch,” I say, stalking toward her.

  I level my greedy gaze on her, heavy with need and acutely aware everything I want is bare underneath the pink fabric. Dragging my finger along the top edge of the towel, I graze her skin here and there. She looks up from beneath her lashes and bites the side of her lip just as I find the end of the fabric and give it a slight tug. It unravels from her naked body and pools around her feet.

  I inhale, taking her in. She’s mesmerizing.

  I slowly drag the backs of my knuckles from her clavicle, down between her tits, and splay a heavy hand around her ribcage. Her breath hitches.

  Her body responds to my touch in the most supreme ways. It’s flattering and it drives my need to feel her, especially since there is no denying how badly she wants me. She’s always ready. Always wanting. Always mine.

  I step her backward against the wall, tugging out of my shirt and pressing my body against hers. The way she’s looking at me, like I’m all she ever sees—it’s my grace. I slant my mouth over hers, slowly devouring her taste. Our tongues tangle and she moans quietly, dragging her hands over my shoulders and fisting my hair.

  I flex my hips and her body limbers. I smirk when I pull back and then sink to my knees before my goddess. With a heavy tongue, I lap her clit and then suck on it gently. Her moan is louder as she drops her head back to the wall, her eyes closed, mouth parted, and steadying herself by my shoulders.

  She rocks against my mouth, panting more hurriedly. But I’m feeling gluttonous today. I need to feel her. Have my name fall from those sexy ass sultry lips of hers. I need to be inside her as she loses herself. When her legs begin to tighten and quake, it’s my cue to stop. I place heavy kisses up her thigh, over her stomach and pause on a hard nipple, tugging it between my teeth while I shove my gym shorts down.

  Impatiently, she sighs, gripping a handful of hair, and brings me back to her mouth. She nips my bottom lip, wrapping her leg around my waist. I sink into her, instantly overcome with the thrill, a
n adrenaline surge ready to siphon every morsel of her orgasm from her.

  I grip her ass and lift her, pushing her back into the wall as I thrust into her. She pants and moans, the sound so fucking erotic it threatens my restraint.

  Winding my arm around her waist to keep her steady, I snake my other hand between the wall and her back to grip the back of her neck. She bites her bottom lip as I heave into her, my drives becoming savage. Her thighs start constricting around me, and she’s frantic for my mouth.

  She’s on the edge of her sanity. By my hair, she brings me to her lips for a sloppy, chaotic kiss.

  “Lose yourself, baby.” I rip my mouth from hers and grind out. “I need to hear it.”

  I drive my hips forward, tightening my grip around her neck as leverage, and embed myself deeper into her.

  It’s her undoing. She rips her mouth away. “Ryker…” she gasps to the ceiling.

  A searing need torches my skin and erupts from deep within my gut as I’m met with my own release. I surge, burying my dick in short juts as I spill into her while begging my legs not to give out from under me.

  “Fuck,” I hiss as I cling to reality and the wall, bucking like a fucking virgin.

  We slow, and I softly kiss her neck, resting my head in the crook of her shoulder. Her pulse is rapid against my face.

  I’m hyperaware of my surroundings as we step into Midway’s Sports Bar. TVs line the walls and sit atop the bar located in the middle of the room. It’s fucking obvious why I tend to stray away from places like this.

  Candice waves like an idiot from a table in the back. My focus is on one thing—the phenomenal ass I’m following to the table. Out of the corner of my eye, I’m fully conscious of the group of guys eyeing us as we pass by. You’d think with a bombshell of a woman strutting in front of me, they’d pay attention to her, but all eyes are on me.

  The waitress makes her way to us as we sit at the round table, her green eyes eating me alive. Before Whitney, this used to play with my ego. Before Whitney, the woman eyeing me ever-so-dreamily might have caught my attention enough to explore what the night held. But since Whitney, no one holds a fucking candle to what I hold every night. There’s no comparison to Whit.