Surrender 01 - Surrender

around as Rafe stood silently by. When she finally opened the creaking door, she let out a breath of relief as she stepped inside.
    “I’ll see you soon, Ari.”
    “Don’t bother. I think we’ve come to the end of our brief journey together. I hope you’ll respect me and yourself enough to let this go,” she replied while looking down at her feet.
    Rafe backed her into the apartment, his meaning clear as they moved until she ran into the wall. He placed his fingers beneath her chin and tugged until she finally met his gaze.
    “If all I saw was indifference on your face, then I would go away, Ari. Unfortunately for both of us, you’re far more interested than you profess. There’s fire burning in your eyes, and whether you like it or not, your body responds to me like a fiddle to its bow. When you stop the fight, I’ll be there to release those inhibitions you hold on to so tightly and you’ll have to hang on for the ride — because believe me, it will be wild.”
    Ari’s breathing deepened and Rafe knew he could take her right where she stood. He knew she wouldn’t fight him — wouldn’t do anything but cry out his name as the crescendo of her pleasure reached its peak.
    “You have my number,” were his parting words as he walked out her door.
    Needing to burn off energy, Rafe drove straight to the gym and changed, then headed to the boxing ring. As he did his warm-up activities, adrenaline began pumping through him. He’d feel much better after a good battle.
    “Rafe, it’s been a while. You’re in luck — Sam’s here.”
    Rafe turned to find his favorite trainer, Mickey, leaning against the wall with a delighted smile on his face. Rafe just nodded his head. The man got a bit too excited at the prospect of blood spilling, and they both knew that was about to happen. Sam was a middleweight champion boxer, and Rafe’s favorite sparring buddy.
    They always got rough, and by the end, both of them would be hurting, but it was a good ache . Boxing was a perfect outlet for Rafe — it relieved his high levels of stress and calmed him. He was ready.
    A crowd started to gather as Rafe climbed into the ring. They all enjoyed watching a good sparring match. Then Sam strode in and their eyes locked.
    “I didn’t think I was going to be able to kick some ass today,” Sam said with a smile. “It’s been a while since you’ve been down here. Are you sure you want to go a few rounds with me, pansy?”
    “I think you’re just too damn chicken to fight me. Did you leave your ‘big boy’ pants at home?” Rafe shot back.
    “Nah, I left them at your mother’s house when I snuck out the window this morning.”
    Rafe laughed as Sam stepped into the ring and came over to give him a half-hug. They turned as Mickey joined them, holding out the headgear.
    “No.” Rafe pushed away the helmet. He wanted to feel a bit of pain — it would help ease his anger.
    “It’s your funeral,” Sam said with a wicked grin.
    “All right, boys. You know the rules. No groin shots or any of that sissy hugging. If I have to pull you apart, I’m going to get cranky. Keep it clean and knock the crap out of each other,” the trainer said as he patted them each on the shoulder.
    Rafe and Sam hit gloves, then went to their corners. The bell rang and they came out fighting…

    “Rafe! What happened to you?” his mother exclaimed when he walked in the house. His family members were all supposed to be gone already, but they’d delayed their departure. As much as he loved them, he was ready for their meddling visit to be over.
    “I’m fine, Mom. I was just sparring at the gym.”
    “You have a black eye and swollen lip,” she exclaimed.
    “Yeah, that tends to happen when I spar with Sam,” he said with a chuckle. “You should see what his face looks like. It’s never pretty, but it looks even worse now.”
    “That’s terrible. I didn’t know you were still into that awful boxing. I could just kill your father for introducing you to the sport.”
    “Yeah, you have to say that as my mother, but it looks a lot worse than it feels. As a matter of fact, I haven’t felt this good in a while,” he answered as he walked into his den and moved behind the bar.
    He grabbed a cold bottle of craft beer and took a long swallow. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was a lot more sore than he should be. It really had been a while since he’d sparred.
    “We were planning to leave tomorrow morning, but we can stay until