The Hurricane

“And you think he’s gonna be happy when he knows you’re in here cleaning the jacks?”

“Well, he wasn’t over the moon when I mentioned the idea of cleaning to him, but Danny, I can’t sit around and do nothing,” I moaned.

“This shit is for the kids to do. All my boys paid their dues with cleaning over the years, and their chores subsidise their fees. If you want to be useful, you can help me train Con.”

“How? I don’t know anything about boxing. Besides, wouldn’t I be a distraction?”

“You’re not a distraction sunshine, you’re motivation. Before you, he wasn’t interested in turning professional. Now, he’s giving it everything he’s got. To impress you, he’ll train longer and harder than for any of the other lads. You’re the fuel to his fire, so I reckon it’s time that we start putting that to good use.”

I was gobsmacked. How could I motivate him to go harder? It seemed like he was pushing his body to the absolute limit as it was.

“I don’t like it, but I’ll do whatever you think is best,” I told Danny. “But I’m finishing these toilets first. I hate seeing a job half done.”

Danny rolled his eyes and mumbled something about how strange I was. At first, helping to train O’Connell meant sitting by the side of the ring watching Danny bark orders. On one particularly strained afternoon, Danny challenged them all to see who could bench press me.

“No one else is touching my fucking wife,” O’Connell growled back at Danny. Instead, he lifted me up, and with a very girly yelp and squeal from me, he bench pressed me until I got a cramp. As the days wore on, I would learn how to massage and rub him down after training. Even when he was so tired that he could barely keep his eyes open, we didn’t dare do the rubdowns unsupervised. Danny had imposed the sex ban again, and the minute that my oily hands would touch his slick, hard body, we would both be on fire. The only thing that killed the feeling was having Danny standing over us and barking out everything that I was doing wrong. Day after day of seeing each other, and night after night without touching was taking its toll. We didn’t dare do more than kiss because once we opened Pandora’s Box, there would be no closing it. O’Connell thought the sex ban was a joke now that we were married, but he didn’t see what I saw. His testosterone levels were through the roof. I only had to walk past him now, and his nostrils flared like a bull in heat. If Calvari so much as looked at me before the fight, O’Connell would knock him out in the first round. As Danny suspected, O’Connell trained harder and longer around me, possibly because I spent most of my time and energy willing him on. After twenty-five one-handed press ups, I’d push him to change hands and do another set. After thirty minutes on the bag, I’d tell him that he had at least another ten minutes still left in him. I’d encourage and push him in any way that I could. By the time the rest day before the fight rolled around, I was as tired as he was restless. I woke up to a string of tiny kisses along my spine.

“Mmm... don’t stop,” I begged as he moved away and lowered my t-shirt back down. I’d taken to wearing his t-shirts to bed with sleep shorts because they were huge and much more comfortable than mine. He never let me sleep without holding on to some part of me, but it still wasn’t the same as sleeping with all of his body pressed against all of mine.

“I have to stop, sunshine, or I won’t stop at all.”

I was tempted to say that it was fine with me, but it wouldn’t be fair to test his resolve this close to the fight. I rolled over groggily, not fully awake yet. O’Connell sat next to me, looking insanely hot in just a pair of half-buttoned jeans. It didn’t escape my notice just how much his body had changed and hardened in the last two weeks. He didn’t look like he had an ounce of fat on him. Only once did I make the mistake of telling him that. What followed was a detailed explanation of his exact body fat index, and how it was affected by his training. I could totally appreciate his hotness without understanding the science behind it. He knew that I couldn’t walk past his half-naked body without running my fingertips down his washboard abs, so he made every effort to walk around that way as much as possible.

“I made you breakfast in bed,” he told me proudly.

“Why are you spoiling me?”

“Because I can, and technically we’re still on our honeymoon. Besides,” he said, kissing me soundly on the lips, “I can’t eat any of this stuff for another three weeks so I’m eating it through you.”

I made short work of breakfast, and as I watched him cleaning up after his efforts, I was struck by how monumentally lucky I was. To wake up warm, with a full belly, and a heart bursting with love was the way I wanted to wake up for the rest of my life.

“So, what are we going to do today?” I asked him.

“No idea,” he admitted. “My body clock had me up at five am, and we’ve got hours to kill that don’t involve sex. Tomorrow, though, I’ll need to get my head on straight so we’ll need to be apart for that.”

I didn’t take offense at his wanting some distance. Around me, he felt soft and loving, which was not the best frame of mind to fight.

“Okay, we’ll have an easy day today then tomorrow I’ve picked up an extra shift at Daisy’s so I’ll be there for most of the day anyway.”

“I sort of had a couple ideas about today. I thought we could do kid stuff.” I looked at him quizzically, having absolutely no idea what he meant.

“I brought the rest of my stuff round from Kier’s and while you were out for the count I set up my DVD player. How do you fancy a Star Wars marathon and a couple of board games? I’ve got Jenga and Monopoly,” he suggested hopefully.

“You really are bored, aren’t you?” I commented.

“Out of my fucking mind,” he groaned, running his hands through his messy spikes in frustration.

“I just want to get on with it. I can’t train, and I can’t touch you. I’ve been listening to music for hours, and we’ve got hours left to fill.”

“Okay, Star Wars it is.” I agreed.

He grinned big, slipped the film into the DVD player, and climbed into bed next to me. It was a wonderfully relaxing day, and after so many stolen moments over the last few weeks, it was great to have this time together. O’Connell was a little pissed when I kicked his arse at Monopoly, and I tried to be pissed when he realised he was beaten and used my weakness to kiss me into submission. I sold him Park Lane and Mayfair for a steal and didn’t give a shit that we abandoned the game to kiss some more.