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Zeke’s got a tell. He thinks he’s slick cause he’s a southpaw - moves different, tries to surprise him with left hooks that have his full weight behind ‘em - but every time he gears up to swing, his elbow pops out. Just a jerk backwards, but it’s enough. Like a li’l signal of when and where he’s gonna hit.
Rio’s always been good at that. Bein’ a step ahead. Reading his opponent. Knowing their moves, what they’re thinking, sometimes before they even do. It came in useful in all kinds of ways, that edge, that instinct, but in the ring? It meant knowin’ when to defend, when to back off, when to draw them in – before he’d flip his game and pounce.
Zeke swings with his left but Rio’s ready, keeps his gloves close to his jaw before ducking out of the way, countering with two fast jabs to the body that send him stumbling back.
“Damn, kid. You quicker than usual.” Zeke pants, sluggish as he recovers his form.
“Nah, you just gettin’ slower.”
He laughs, that bass chuckle Rio’s known half his life. But he nods like he’s got a point.
Zeke’s strong as an ox, but he’s pushin’ 60. Still, he was the only sparring partner who made Rio think and be better. Who didn’t take it easy on him. Only one at the gym who could give Rio a good fight.
Even with the elbow thing.
But maybe he was a little faster today. More keyed up. But it was cause he was all jittery and shit, not skill.
He’d been out of town all week. Hadn’t meant to be, but his deals in Grand Rapids needed to be face to face. He’d been wanting to invest in some business further afield, spread out the kingdom, the places they can wash cash through now that the amount Elizabeth was printing had more than doubled, the extra presses and equipment and a bunch of his guys lending their manpower makin’ the whole thing just fly.
He’d tried to get back Thursday night, but then the I-96 had been a fuckin’ nightmare after an accident, and then his car kept stallin’, something grinding under the hood when he put the keys in the ignition, and he was forced to make an unplanned stop at David’s until the roads cleared.
Then this morning D had hid his car keys until he could fix whatever was goin’ on with the G-Wagon, so he didn’t get back on the road ‘til late.
It’s been 5 days since he’s seen Elizabeth. Looked in to her eyes. Held her.
It’s been 5 days since he’s been inside her and he’s goin’ out of his fuckin’ mind. Wants to touch her and taste her and sink in to her so bad he’s twitchy with it.
Yeah, they’d spoken. Called each other every night. Got her to describe in detail what she was picturing and how it felt when she was touchin’ herself alone in her bed, wishing he was there to see it. Built her up with his voice, knows how crazy she gets for it over the phone.
It was when he asserted that he couldn’t get to sleep without hearing her come that she started whinin’ all high-pitched. His favorite sound, tinny and echoing out from the speaker.
Then last night he’d been restless, tossing and turning on the lumpy bed in D’s spare room, and when he’d called her he just wanted to know if she’d gotten further with her weird book. The one she’s been obsessed with, always reading it when he climbs in to her bed.
He hadn’t much thought about it before, it was just the thing he had to grab out of her hands when he crawled on top of her, silencing her half-hearted grumbles about losing her place with his tongue.
But not being able to see her turning the pages next to him – he’d missed it. The paper flicking, her soft breaths, the way she would randomly tell him what was happening on the page like she wanted him to be involved…….the sounds made the back of his head tingle and buzz.
So he’d left his phone on speaker on the bed while she talked about it, pictured her licking the tip of her index finger before turning a page, her voice the only thing that could make him peaceful.
He doesn’t know when he drifted off, just knows the last thing he heard was her. All sweet and sleepy.
And in his dreams he felt her warmth. Laid her out on the kitchen floor, fucked her slow, tore her apart and made her body sing.
Yeah, it’s been 5 days and he’s wired. Can’t think straight knowing she’s gonna be here soon.
And – 5 days? It feels fuckin’ stupid. She makes him stupid.
She should be here any second he thinks as he blocks another heavy cross from Zeke and forces him back in to the corner. Messy, fast jabs to the body before Zeke clinches him and they push back to reset.
He’d gotten back in to town an hour or two ago, but Elizabeth was tied up at her girls dance recital with the ex. He was gonna be takin’ the kids for the night and she said she’d swing by when he was finished at the gym since it was on the way home.
His ears prick to the sound of the external doors swinging open, the heavy metal frames banging against each other.
He’s on the side of the ring facing the inner doors, so he instantly sees when Elizabeth’s shadow appears down the hall, her heels clacking with every step, thinks he sees her falter when she sees him.
Zeke follows his eye line and stops to turn over his shoulder just as Elizabeth opens the door, walking in to the gym. Even turned away Rio can see how his face lights up, dumbstruck.
“Sorry, sweetheart, we’re closed –”
“S’cool, Zeke,” Rio interrupts. “She’s with me.”
Elizabeth walks closer to the ring, eyes glued to his body in an obvious way before remembering herself and throwing a polite smile to Zeke with a cute li’l wave.
Zeke nudges him in the shoulder, “Oh, this the girlfriend, huh?”
“This is her.” Rio rolls his eyes, but clocks how Elizabeth doesn’t balk or try and correct him. Zeke’s lookin’ at him funny. Like he’s a dumb kid who doesn’t shut up about his girl. Which - he’s only mentioned her a few times.
“Hi! Sorry I uh – I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m Beth by the way”
“Zeke. Good to meet you.”
Elizabeth smiles back and then wanders over to Rio’s corner.
“Hey, mama.”
“Hi,” she beams up at him, and when she steps under the lights he can she she’s got that dark green dress on. It’s real long, swishes around her calves, but damn he likes the way it takes ages to pull up. Likes how thin it is. How it slips over her skin like water.
“Are you still - ?” she gestures at the ring and makes a fist with both hands, unsure what boxing terminology to use as Rio hangs his arms over the ropes so he can look down at her.
It’s been 5 fuckin’ days and he thinks she’s gotten more beautiful. Somehow. It’s her big blue doe-eyes looking up at him, cheeks a little pink - he guesses she’s caught the sun gardening, not wearing the baseball cap he got her for that - pupils all big as her gaze flits from his face to his chest to his arms to his stomach and then lower before they travel back up again. The way she’s on her tip-toes to be closer to him, like she missed him as much as he missed her.
And he’d only really just gotten started with Zeke, but now that she’s here, he can’t be fucked with it.
“Nah, nah, gimme a sec, yeah, I’ll just –”
“Because if you’re not I don’t mind waiting.”
He can see her swallow, the way she licks her lips all devious. The li’l smile.
“Oh, yeah?” he hums, “What you gonna do while you wait, huh?”
“Watch you.”
He scans her face, the flush creepin’ down her neck. She’s already hot, wants him right here, he knows. He knows cause it’s how he feels too. His breathing gettin’ all heavy, panting a little, but not from the workout.
He wants her to watch - but he’s sick of waiting, he’s waited all week - and he wants to get her out of here and in to his lap.
“Elizabeth,”
“Please,” she asks, breathy, “I’ve never seen you box before.”
He sucks his bottom lip in to his mouth, peers back at Zeke as he paces in the corner, waiting to continue.
Well - since she asked so nicely.
“Aight,” he juts his chin toward the bench, “take a seat.”
She settles herself against the wall, just beyond the harsh gym lighting, but still clear enough for him to see.
When he gets back to sparring, he keeps her in his line of sight. Makes sure she has a good view.
But she’s fuckin’ with him.
Crosses her legs slowly, shifts her hips in her seat, squirming she’s so frustrated. When he lands a punch to Zeke’s face and dodges his counter to slip low and under his swing, making a few rapid upper hooks to the body, he can see how she crushes her thighs together, trying to get friction between her legs.
Can see her chest rising and falling heavily, the way her little hands are white-knuckled in the fabric of her dress as her eyes trip down each block bar tattoo on his biceps like she’s never seen ‘em before.
He knows she loves watching him work out. Whenever he’s sweatin’ in her back yard he feels her eyes on him. Knows how turned on she gets.
And damn it if he don’t like puttin’ on a show.
Likes how it makes her all frantic and flustered in her need for him after. She’s always harder, rougher, always digs her nails in that extra bit deeper. Like she wants to feel all the muscles she’s been watchin’ him work. Wants him to show her what he can do with them.
So whatever - maybe he told her he’d be done by 8 when he knew he’d still be sparring. Maybe he knew she’d come in to find him and get that fuckin’ look in her eye.
But shit, he’s not sure which one of ‘em is getting more worked up by the other right now. Just knows he’s getting real distracted. Looking straight at her, forgetting his hands and the ring and his footwork, not payin’ attention to anything that isn’t Elizabeth tugging her silky dress up over her knees and biting down on her pink bottom lip - when Zeke lands a clean hit to his eye out of nowhere.
There’s a sharp sting, a numb thudding pulse, and then he can feel a trickle of blood run down his eye socket.
“Ughh, Jesus man, what happened to pullin’ punches?” Rio laughs, wipes the blood away messily with the back of his glove.
“I am pullin’ punches. But you’re getting caught cold. I ain’t gonna go easy just cause you not paying attention, kid.”
“Are you okay?!” He turns to see Elizabeth suddenly at the side of the ring.
“Yeah, yeah,” he smiles, waving off her concern. “S’nothing, just a scratch. Zeke can do worse.”
He can tell it’s nothin’, just a li’l bruise above his brow bone with a cut, but it won’t stop bleeding.
“Alright come on, let’s call it a day, champ.” Zeke chuckles, “But take care of that eye, yeah? Kit’s on the side if you want it.”
Zeke smiles big and warm over at Elizabeth, who has now hauled herself to sitting on the apron of the ring.
She’s about to swing her feet up so she can climb on to the canvas, when he stops her, “Nuh uh. Heels. Lose ‘em.”
Zeke’s got his gloves off by his locker, throwing his sports bag over his shoulder, heading for the door to leave before he turns to wave back at Rio as Elizabeth unbuckles the straps of her heels, letting them fall off ringside.
“Later, Z.”
“You got the keys yeah?”
“Yeah, man. S’all good.”
“Cool, later. Was nice to meet you, Beth!”
“You too!” she calls out from her perch on the edge of the ring, but as soon as Zeke is out of sight, she’s scrambling through the bottom two ropes to get to him, catches her bare foot on one of ‘em and stumbles a little - he tries not to laugh. He really does.
She huffs and ignores him, stands up straight, stomping towards him to cradle his face and inspect his eye.
“Why’s it bleeding so much?” she asks, concerned fingers swiping at his temple.
“Hi, baby,” he ignores her, leaning forward to kiss her.
It’s been 5 days. He doesn’t care about his eye.
She instantly stops fussing. Wraps her arms around his neck and relaxes against him. Sighs in to his mouth when his tongue slides against hers.
When she pulls back, he chases in a daze.
“We need to do something about this,” she breathes against him, and when he opens his eyes she’s looking at the cut again, cradling his face. “It’s kind of swollen, too.”
“Chill, chill, chill, look it’s fine, c’mere,” he tries to grab her closer but his boxing gloves make it tricky.
“Okay Rocky,” she huffs, pushes against his shoulders until he starts walking backwards, “sit and let me help you, okay?”
The backs of his knees hit the stool tucked in to the corner of the ring and she shoves him down so he’s sitting in it, his back pressing in to the padded corner board for support. He watches as she bends, slips his gloves off and chucks them down by his side. Focuses on the curve of her ass as she stoops to pull over the basic medical kit for scrapes and shit kept just outside the ropes.
“So you wanna be my cutman now, darlin’?”
“Your what?”
She’s on her knees between his legs, rifling through the med kit, finding some wipes to clean off the blood smeared on her fingertips before pulling out the little pot of Vaseline.
“My cutman. You gonna fix me up. Make me all better…….grab the endswell, too.”
She sighs, irritated as she looks up at him. “Stop making up words.”
His smile peels across his face, flexing his wrapped hand before reaching out to push her hair back behind her ear. Catches how she watches his abs push out as he chuckles, “End - space - swell. Stops swelling, yeah?”
She squints like she’s not convinced, “It’s that li’l metal scraper thing, with the hook, see -” he points in to the bag, where it sits on top of an ice-pack. “You can use that if you wanna.”
She looks down and picks it up by the handle, turns the cool silver steel over in her hand and frowns. “So it’s like a tiny iron for your face.”
He smirks, “Sure, it’s a face iron. Now get up here,” he leans forward and takes a hold of her biceps. She squeaks as he hauls her in to his lap, balancing her ass on his left thigh.
She places the endswell in her lap as she uncaps the Vaseline, dipping a finger in to it to gently swipe some over the cut, stopping the bleeding, before dropping it back in to the bag by their feet when she’s satisfied.
She stops to take him in for a moment. The way the lights on the ceiling frame her face have her looking like a fuckin’ angel, makes the 3 diamonds of the necklace he got her sparkle, and she’s got that sticky gloss on her lips that takes his mind places. A Little smudged from where he’d kissed her.
“How was your week?” she purrs, scratching a finger down the scruff at his jaw.
He squeezes her hips, “Wanted you with me.”
“I know,” it hadn’t been option. What with the kids and Elizabeth bein’ so involved with the running of the dance show they were in.
“How was the ballet thing?” he asks.
“It went good. No disasters.”
“The girls have a good time?”
“Mhmm. They asked for you,” she whispers, soft. Almost hesitant. Eyes full of affection. “They wanted you there.”
It stuns him. He hadn’t even thought about that. He didn’t wanna crash their family ‘events’ or whatever. Didn’t realise he was bein’ factored in like that now. Has to clear his throat before he can speak, “M’sorry I missed it.”
Elizabeth smiles, and then her eyes fall to his right hand, reaching out to scratch a nail over the gauze of the hand wrap secured around his palm and knuckles, running her thumb over the purple hairband he purposefully kept on his wrist.
“Do you ever take this off?” she hums.
“It’s good luck.”
“Yeah you look really lucky,” she snorts, eyebrows quirking as she nods to his cut. She lifts the endswell to his bruise then, the cool metal soothing on his hot skin.
“Oh, I see, me gettin’ whooped cause you were distracting me is funny, huh?”
He lifts his thigh so she wobbles, falls closer to him.
“Stroke it across the bruise, ma. Away from my eye.” He taps her elbow and she does as instructed.
“Like that?”
“Harder,” he winces when she pushes down and slides the metal across the bruise, but it feels good, “there, you got it.”
“So how was I distracting?” she pushes.
“By bein’ you – it’s not that difficult.”
“I want details,” she purrs, gliding the endswell over his brow one last time, before dropping it back in to the bag. Then she’s leaning in close, softly kissing him on the temple at the edge of the bruise.
She’s echoing what he said to her on the phone the other night on purpose.
He lifts a hand to thumb her bottom lip, watches it bounce as he drags it down and releases it, “You were bitin’ your lip, lookin’ at me like you got big plans for that mouth of yours.”
“What else?” she breathes, gulping hard as she watches his lips just as intently.
He strokes his right hand down her throat, in to the dip of her dress, ghosting his fingers over the necklace and the soft skin of her tits. “Then you got all red right here, like I was makin’ you hot every time I threw a hit,” he drags his index finger lower, over the blush creeping down her chest right now, and her breathing stutters.
All she can do is hum, needy, her forehead falling towards his.
She’s sitting on the bare skin of his thigh and her dress is so thin that he can feel the heat of her pussy pulsing against his leg. The steady, throbbing rhythm he’s desperate to feel all round his cock. His gut tightens, already half-hard in his shorts.
He drops his hand down to the dress on her thighs and starts to pull it up, both of them watching the action as he slowly snakes a hand up and under, “Then you were squeezing your legs together, desperate for my cock inside you, gettin’ so wet just lookin’ at me that you couldn’t sit still, you –”
He pauses when he splays his hand over the side of her hip under her dress, feeling nothing but the smoothness of her skin in his palm.
“Where are your panties, Elizabeth?” he rasps against her open mouth.
“I took them off in the car.”
He growls, barely lets her finish her sentence as he drags her back in to a bruising kiss, slipping his hand over her thigh and between her legs, fingers finding her bare and slick with wetness. Both groaning at the sensation.
He moves his hands to her hips in an effort to pull her fully in to his lap, but she pushes back, quickly slipping off his thigh and falling to kneel in between his legs.
She leans forward, and just before she licks at the skin by his naval she whispers, “I need you in my mouth first.”
He groans, letting his weight rest back fully in to the corner pad, fisting both his hands in her hair as she sucks at the skin just above his waistband, her hands running up his thighs.
But she doesn’t pull his shorts down. Instead she lifts up and grips both his hands, pulling them away from her scalp. Eyes locked to his as she guides his arms back, hooking them over the ropes either side of him, arms spread like he’s relaxin’.
“Oh, you want me on the ropes, huh?” he drawls.
“Keep them there until you come down my throat.”
“Fuck,” he husks, loves when she’s like this. He nods, hands twisting around the yellow rubber in anticipation.
He lifts up his hips to help her tug his shorts down, struggles to keep still when she wraps her little hand around the base of his cock. The way she keens before she leans in to lick a wet line up the shaft, tracing the vein underneath, her saliva dripping out her lips when she swirls her tongue around the head, then kisses it, teasing.
She keeps her blue eyes on his when she closes her mouth around him. Hollows out her cheeks and sucks, takes him right to the back of her throat and moans like it’s still not enough. The sound vibrating against his cock as she slowly bobs her head, coating him with her spit, her hand squeezing, increasing the pressure as she strokes him up and down in time with her mouth.
He can’t take his eyes off her. Keeps needing to screw ‘em shut but can’t miss a second as she starts moving faster. The way her full lips roll up and down, the hot drag of her mouth around him, the way she gags a li’l when he thrusts in to her mouth, eyes watering.
“God, your fuckin’ mouth, Elizabeth - ugh shhhit -”
He hisses, bares his teeth and she groans in response, pleased with herself as she watches him lose it. And it’s so hard not to touch her, not to yank on her hair, not to brush her bangs aside so he can see every flicker of lust in her eyes. His tight grip on the ropes the only thing keepin’ him sane as she starts to take him so deep and blow him so hard and fast he forgets how to speak or where the fuck he even is. Wanting him to come, wanting him to spill down her throat, her free hand pinching in to his hip like she needs it.
“Yes, baby,” he rasps, kinda slurred, voice strained. And it takes one more stroke of her hand, one last bob of her head and his gut spasms, cock jerking and spilling against her tongue as he grunts. Curses harshly to himself, words scratchy and wrecked as she draws it out. Watching as she swallows his come gratefully, still sucking at the tip of his cock like she wants more. Lapping him up just to watch him shudder.
When she slides her lips off of him and looks up, there’s a string of spit still connecting them and her face is a mess. Mascara smudged, come smeared down her chin that she lifts a finger to wipe at, licking it clean. She looks so fuckin’ good he can’t stand it.
“I missed the taste of you,” she purrs, sincere and satisfied.
His arms had gone lax against the ropes, but they spring up now, hands cradling her jaw, leaning forward and down to kiss her messily.
He slips off the stool he was sitting on and guides her back on to the canvas of the ring, doesn’t stop kissing her as he lays her down. Hooks an arm underneath her so he can drag her body up further in to the center, give them room to stretch out.
“Tell me,” he husks in between sloppy kisses, “was it the 5 days without me or the boxing that got you all bad like this?”
She smiles against his lips, “both.”
He buries his face in her neck and mouths at her pulse point slowly. Her skin smells like pink grapefruit, some new body wash stuff she’s been tryin’ that reminds him of showers together, soaping it all over her skin until the water runs cold. Makes his mouth water. The sweetness filling his nose and mingling with the salty sweat of his own body.
He moves down, pushes her dress up above her hips so he can see her pussy, glistening and pink and perfect
“You look so good all soaking wet,” he hums, dragging his lips down the inside of her thighs. “This all I been thinkin’ about, darlin’,” he croons, hovering just above her before he seals his mouth over her center, flattens his tongue and licks up. “All week,” he sucks on her swollen clit hard and she cries out, “every night,” Elizabeth’s hand scrapes down the ticklish spot behind his ear, rolling her hips against his face, “all I wanted was you.”
He works her over with his tongue, slips it in to her and pulses it as deep as he can. Then he moves his lips to her clit and pushes two fingers inside her, curls them and feels her clench hard. The gauze of his hand wrap gettin’ drenched in her wetness as she drips on to it, fucking herself on to his fingers. He gets her right to the edge and then pulls away again and again, slows down, listens to her whine. Her legs shake like crazy, thighs trying to snap together around his head and keep him there, stop him pulling back, but he firmly holds them open. Has to really pin her hips to the canvas at one point she bucks up so wildly, so overwhelmed, needing release.
After denying her one last time, he crawls up her body, braces himself on his forearms either side of her head. Her face contorted in agony. The good kind.
“I can’t,” she pants, “I can’t, Rio, oh my god –”
“You throwing in the towel, champ?”
He’s hard again, shifting his weight so his cock rubs against her cunt. Grinds his hips up and down, rubbing the length of him over her too sensitive clit. It makes her whimper, but he knows it’s not enough.
“I need you inside me,” she wails, nails digging in to his shoulder blades as he continues to move torturously against her.
He lowers his mouth to hover just over hers.
“Beg.”
“What?” she asks, bleary, trying to shimmy her body up just enough, trying to get him to slip inside.
“Beg me.” He commands, voice low and hoarse, black eyes pinning her to the spot.
“Rio, please….please fuck me – I need you, please I - I -”
He instantly shifts and pushes inside her smoothly in one long stroke that has them both gasping.
He’s still for a second, just feeling all the ways she convulses and clenches around him. How hot and wet she is, his vision going spotty.
“Fuck, how do you feel this good, baby?” he chokes as he starts to move, lifting her right thigh up high around his waist, higher until he has it hooked over his shoulder, fucking her in to the mat, hitting the deep spot in her that makes her cry out as he picks up his rhythm.
Elizabeth has a tell when she’s about to come.
It’s not just the way she pulses around him, or the way her jaw drops, or the way her spine bends or the way she sucks in air.
The corner of her mouth does this little thing. A quirk. A slight dimple appearing for just that moment. Always. All her muscles go rigid, she trembles – and the left side of her mouth tugs up.
And then she falls apart.
So when he sees it now, he knows she’s about to snap. Flattens his body as he moves so his pelvis can grind against hers, feels it swell low inside him before it breaks and rushes all over his skin, and he’s pushing them both over the edge together.
He groans loud and long in to her neck as she moans against his shoulder, collapsing against her as they both shudder and pant, waves of pleasure tearing through both of them, almost painful it’s so strong. He rests his full weight against her as they come down, unwinding and releasing. His body feelin’ like he’s gone 10 rounds he’s so wrecked.
When he lifts up to look her in the eye, she’s hazy. Eyelids fluttering, blissed out.
He wipes her bangs away from her face where it’s stickin’ to her sweaty forehead, strokes his fingers down her cheek as they breathe together.
“I missed you so much,” she whispers, thick with relief.
“Missed you too, mama.”
* * * * *
“Okay, man, so you’re gonna slip left, slip right,” Kenny bobs out of the way of Rio’s slow moving jabs as he goes through more of the combination.
“Good, then left jab, right cross,”
“Like this?”
“You got it,” Rio holds his palms up for Kenny to aim at, moving them to wherever the next hit needs to land. “Now left hook, right cross.”
Kenny’s tall, so he’s got good range on him, and he’s picking up the combos real fast. Enjoys learning a routine.
Saturday afternoon sun beats down on them in Elizabeth’s back yard, and he’s grateful for his thin white t-shirt, even though it’s still sticking to his skin in the spring heat.
When Rio mentioned needing to swing by the boxing gym real quick before lunch to drop the keys with Zeke, Kenny had lit up, thought he was so cool, asked him if he could teach him some stuff. And hell, the kid looked so pumped about it, so he agreed.
It’s when he’s showing him how to correct his form that he feels Elizabeth’s eyes on him. Doesn’t look up, but knows she’s somewhere in the kitchen. Feels her gaze on his face, on his arms, on his hands.
“You gotta keep your hands up, yeah? Dominant one close to your jaw. It doesn’t matter how hard you hit if you’re lying on the canvas after getting KO’d cause your hands were down. Drop ‘em and you an easy target.”
Kenny nods and lifts them up, “Okay, so here?”
Rio nods, but it could be better, “think about it like a phone and a microphone. You a righty, so your left hand should be like this,” he nudges his fist away from his face, “like you holding a mic. Then with your right, hold it over your ear, like you got your phone in it.”
Kenny moves and Rio beams, claps his hands together. “There you go, see, you’re a natural. S’like looking at Klitschko.”
“What’s a kitch-go?”
Rio chuckles and pats him on the shoulder, “Forget about it, man.”
He looks over Kenny’s shoulder then to see Elizabeth standing in the doorway of the kitchen, shoulder pressed in to the frame and hip jutted out.
She’s smiling so softly at him, can feel the affection across the yard. But her eyes are heavy, sparkling with something hot, and he can see her throat bob when she swallows hard.
They stare at each other for a long moment before Marcus is rushing past her, making a beeline for Rio.
He’s all hopped up on sugar cause he jumps right at him, making garbled giggling noises, running around Rio’s legs in circles making little stumbling soft punches against Rio’s thighs, like he wants to join in the boxing lesson but has opted for mayhem.
Rio plays it up for him, falling to the ground dramatically like he’s really being hurt, shielding his face as Marcus swats at his shoulders, all of them laughing.
“Woah woah, referee! Where’s the ref!?” Rio yells playfully from behind his arms, before he pulls them down suddenly, grabs Marcus quickly by the waist and hauls him up in to the air, throwing him over his shoulder. He’s still giggling on hiccups as he hangs upside down, trying to pull up Rio’s t-shirt to pinch him on the back.
“Marcus,” Elizabeth calls and Rio whips round to find her walking towards them on the grass, Marcus swinging wildly like a pendulum behind him, “I don’t think they allow pinching in boxing, sweetie.”
“I can pinch daddy, he said it’s okay.”
“Oh really? No red card?”
Rio steps towards her and bends to whisper in her ear, “That’s soccer, mami,” kissing her on the cheek quickly as he shifts Marcus down his arm and drops him back down to the grass, ruffling his hair. “No pinching, you li’l liar.”
Marcus nods and runs over to Kenny, makes him bend down so he can tell him somethin’ important in his ear and then they both peel off back towards the house.
“What’s that about?” Rio asks.
“Ice cream and cookies.”
“Of course.”
“So,” Elizabeth steps closer, sliding her hands all the way up his stomach and wrapping them around his neck, scraping her nails there and batting her eyelashes up at him, “can I pinch daddy?”
He hums, low and approving in the back of his throat as he drops his forehead to hers. Sucks on his bottom lip as he sways their bodies a little. “Say that again, ma.”
“Oh, god,” she laughs and pushes him back, shaking her head. Cheeks flushed, shy all of a sudden. “We don’t have time for this right now.”
“Make time,” he purrs, biting at her mouth.
Mommy, we’re ready for the show! Come on!
Sweet excited voices echo out from the house and Elizabeth smiles up at him, a question on her tongue.
“And what’s that about?”
She looks shy again, fiddling with his chain. “Well, actually, you are being summoned to watch a very special one-off encore of the girls ballet routine. They really wanted you to see it, so -”
Oh. It’s not shy. Nah , she’s – jittery. Like this means a lot to her.
“You don’t have to, I know it’s –”
“Let’s go.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. They asked for me right?”
She smiles up at him, nods.
“Then I’m there.”
Jane and Emma twirl and spin and hop their way around the den in a purple tulle blur while Marcus sits on Rio’s lap, laid back against his chest, wiggling to the music as he eats another cookie.
When they finish Rio claps and cheers and tells ‘em they were amazing, high-fives Emma and does the little complicated handshake he made up with Jane.
Elizabeth just watches him. Eyes pouring out with something she won’t say.
* * * * *
She’s got that book out when he climbs in to bed next to her that night.
He makes himself comfy on his back and then turns his face to peer up at her where she’s sitting up against her pillows. Her brows are knit together, engrossed in whatever’s happening on the page.
He takes a long, deep breath as he watches her quietly. Commits the image to memory before he closes his eyes.
“What’s goin’ down with Claire and the Scottish dude then?”
He knows she’s stopped reading to look at him, can just feel when she’s zeroed in, and after a silent second he slowly winks his left eye open to squint up at her.
“Since when do you care about my book?”
He shrugs, makes an I dunno noise.
Because it’s not the book really. But her talkin’ about it all happy? That he cares about. That makes him feel good.
Elizabeth closes the book and chucks it on to her side-table with a sigh, “I need a break from it anyway, it’s too sad.”
“Tell me.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah ma, seriously.” He turns on to his side more so he can give her his full attention. “Go on,”
She’s about to launch in to it, he can tell, when he reaches out to place a stalling hand on her stomach, “You don’t need to do your Scottish accent again though, yeah?”
She’d done one the night he called her. The worst fuckin’ thing he ever heard. Made him snort laughing, sure, but he can’t go through that again.
“I think it makes it better,” she says, all superior.
“I disagree.” He makes a sarcastic trust me face and she rolls her eyes, but he’s not entirely sure she’s gonna rein that shit in when she starts talkin’.
Her eyes get all big and shiny as she dives in to it, gets more and more animated and he knows he’s smiling as he watches her try and explain the crazy plot.
He thinks one of ‘em died – or they think the other one died? – or something. She’s losin’ him with the time travelling rock stuff and he’s listening, really he is, but everything goes kinda quiet and the lamp light has her hair shining more red than gold and she keeps makin’ these grumpy little cartoonish faces that he thinks are supposed to signify an old dude has entered the story and –
God damn it.
Gettin’ hard listening to Elizabeth talk about her book wasn’t what he expected, that’s for damn sure – but whatever.
He’s never been able to understand what she does to him.
The weirdest shit turns him on simply cause she’s the one doin’ it.
He -
Fuck, he really does -
He’s known for a long time, honestly. Just ain’t got a clue how to actually say it. Doesn’t want to freak her out when she’s only recently stopped getting flustered when other people call her his girl.
But he feels it so strong in this moment he thinks it’s gonna slip out whether he’s ready to say it or not. Feels like it’s written all over his face. So heavy in his chest his heart starts beatin’ weirdly.
His cock twitches in his boxers but he doesn’t want her to stop talking. Needs to do somethin’ though, needs to do somethin’ with this feeling.
Elizabeth’s still chattering as he slides down the bed, rolling over fully so he can climb between her legs.
She spreads them on instinct, lets her knees fall open, just watches as he pushes up her long t-shirt and pulls off her panties.
He settles on his stomach, her knees over his shoulders as he kisses down the inside of her creamy thigh, tickling his fingers over the outside of her legs.
She reaches out a hand to lightly stroke over his brow bone, gently tracing the faint purple bruise, the thin scab of the cut, and he can’t help nuzzling in to her palm.
She’s stopped talking, watching him dreamily as he drags his stubble against her thigh, knows she likes how it scratches. His bottom lip catching where it drags on her skin, just above her cunt.
“Don’t stop,” he whispers casually, lifts his eyebrows like keep going before sinking his face between her legs, kissing her clit, lazily circling his tongue around it.
She sighs and he peeks out the corner of his eye to see her sternum lift towards the ceiling, relaxed and melting in to the mattress. His mouth just slow enough against her to keep her in this sweet spot of pleasure.
And he’s not in any rush to get either of ‘em anywhere, just needed to have his mouth on her. Needed to be close.
He lifts his head when she stays quiet, “Honey,” he teases, licking his lips, “keep talking.”
“Now?”
“Mhmm,” he nods, lowering his lips back to her center when he speaks, his hot breath against her makin’ her shudder and drip, “I wanna hear it.”
He turns his attention back to her clit, listening to every breathy, stuttered sound Elizabeth makes.
Her moans braid themselves through her words as she speaks, and when she makes a half-assed, groaning attempt at an English accent he laughs against her, feels her shake too.
The talking fades out at some point, and his hands are gripping the sides of her hips when he suddenly feels her fingers on top of his own, lifting them away from her enough that she can lace her fingers with his, holding his hands tight, squeezing their palms together.
He squeezes back, his hands engulfing hers and when he looks up from between her legs he sees her watching him, eyes pouring out with it - with -
And it’s like he’s in the ring again, unable to see anything that ain’t Elizabeth.
It’s a knock out –
How much he loves her.