The crowd erupted, but there were as many boos as there were cheers.
“In the red corner, from Killarney, Ireland and weighing in at two hundred and twenty pounds, please welcome, Cormac “the Hurricane” O’Connell.”
The noise in the arena was deafening as the crowd stomped and chanted, “Hurricane, Hurricane, Hurricane,” in unison. The rows were scattered with slutty-dressed girls blowing kisses and shoving their breasts at my husband, but tonight I couldn’t bring myself to be worked up about it. As long as he walked out of that ring under his own steam, everything would be all right. The referee ushered both fighters to the centre for their pre-fight warning and glove tap. Calvari chose that moment to wink at me and blow a kiss my way. If he was hoping for a reaction from O’Connell, he was out of luck. In the ring, he was a machine.
The bell rang and my boy ducked and weaved as Calvari came out of his corner swinging. O’Connell looked relaxed as he moved around. He could almost be training. When he didn’t throw a punch for a little while, I figured he was trying to wear Calvari down and go the distance. It was the safest game plan for winning the fight, but it would take its toll. Calvari was a huge fighter, but he was fit and well trained to last the twelve rounds and then some.
It was clear ‘the Destroyer’ had come to win, and he wasn’t about to hand out an easy victory. Calvari threw a series of punches to the body that were easily blocked, but he kept going with combination after combination. For nearly three minutes, Calvari attacked relentlessly, with barely any retaliation from O’Connell. Even as he blocked the attacks, the power behind Calvari’s hits looked devastating. O’Connell threw the odd jab, but it was almost like he was baiting instead of fighting back. We were still only in the first round, but the crowd was already getting restless.
“Just fucking hit him, Hurricane,” a guy behind me screamed, and my pulse raced, waiting for the bell to ring. We were seconds away from the end of the first round. Calvari looked smug, like he already had the fight sewn up. O’Connell threw two left jabs that looked like a desperate attempt at scoring a couple of last-minute points, and they were easily blocked.
When the magic happened, it was so fast that I almost missed it. So did everyone else. The jabs to the face were to make Calvari raise his guard and expose his core. With all of his power, the Hurricane delivered a bone shattering right hook to the body. As Calvari dropped his guard in shock, O’Connell was already there with a second right hook that knocked the Destroyer out cold. His hands dropped weightlessly to his side and the bell rang out loud and clear as Calvari’s jaw slapped painfully against the canvas. The whole round had been a ploy to convince him to relax in the dying seconds. The strategy was perfect, and by the end of the first round of the biggest fight of O’Connell’s career, he was the winner by knockout.
Danny closed his eyes in silent prayer as the entire arena exploded. People were overrunning the ring to get to O’Connell. Grown men were hollering and backslapping each other in the aisles, and I breathed for the first time in three minutes. As was becoming tradition, Danny climbed down and made his way over to me as I collapsed back in my seat. He plonked himself down on the seat next to me that had emptied, and with tears in his eyes, reached over to grip my hand in his own.
“He did it, sunshine. He bloody did it.”
I’d never heard Danny so emotional, and I wished O’Connell could see how proud he was of him.
“He didn’t do it alone,” I reminded him.
“No, he didn’t.” He grinned and squeezed my hand.
Giving in to the emotion of the moment, I leaned across and hugged him. For the first time, without a hint of surliness or sarcasm, he hugged me back. Sniffing a bit as he pulled away, he kissed me on the cheek, got up, and left.
I was desperate to see O’Connell, but he was still caught up in the crowd. I hugged Nikki and all of the guys when I felt someone behind me.
“Got one of those for me, Mrs. O’Connell?”
Grinning his cocky grin, sweat dripping down that perfect inked up body, my husband stood before me in all his glory. Without thinking, I jumped on him and held the sides of his face as I kissed him like I hadn’t seen him in a month. Slipping his tongue into my mouth, he used one arm to hoist me up higher and wrapped my legs around his waist. He was so hungry he could devour me, and I knew that he still had eleven rounds left inside him. His thick fingers bound by the wraps speared themselves into my hair as he pressed me closer. We were both short of breath when the kiss ended, and he rested his forehead against mine.
“I wanna fuck you in the middle of the ring,” he murmured to me. I could feel his strong heart pulse inside his powerful chest.
“Do you think you can wait until we don’t have an audience? That might be a little more entertainment than these people paid for.”
“Well, at least I’d make it last more than one round.” He grinned.
“I certainly hope so.” I smiled, kissing him again.
The arena was full of people, but we were all alone as I poured everything into that kiss, showing him exactly how I felt about him. Without warning, two arms wrap themselves around us and wet lips landed on my cheek.
“Happy, Kier?” I asked him.
“Absolutely fucking ecstatic.” He grinned, and his euphoria was infectious.
There was magic in the air, and it was going to take everyone a long time to come down from this high. It wasn’t just that he’d won; it was the way he did it.
“This is it, my friend! It’s the big leagues now,” Kieran screamed, jumping up and down with us still in his arms.
The place was still packed, as though nobody could believe it was all over. Danny caught my eye and pointed like he wanted me to grab Kier’s attention. Following my gaze, Danny gave him some weird hand signals and Kieran nodded.
“He’s telling me he’s got more sponsors on the hook. Come on, fucker, time to show them what to do with their money,” he said, backslapping O’Connell.
He bent his head to whisper in my ear so that Kieran couldn’t hear us.
“Two weeks, baby girl. Two weeks of no sex. Wait for me in my changing room, ‘cause as soon as I get done with these sponsors I’m taking you long and hard in that shower, and I don’t give a fuck who hears us.”
“Yes, sir.”
I sighed, as though getting fucked by my husband was any hardship. I knew from experience that I’d be waiting a while. With how the fight went down, there were probably loads of sponsors waiting to talk with him. O’Connell bent his head and with shaking fingers, I refastened the chain around his neck.