by Rie Warren
Release Date: December 5, 2016
About In the Ring
The biggest fight of his life isn’t . . . In the Ring.
The bright lights. The roaring crowd. The chance at a championship belt. The not-so-little secret Liam Shaughnessy—the Bonny Bruiser—is fighting to keep tucked far away.
Liam got the pussy pounded out of him on the mean streets of Cin-city—the other Sin City. The oldest in a Catholic clan where his da never pulled any punches, he went from geek boy to the golden boy of the boxing world care of his fists. Liam’s on the fast track to having it all . . . all except the one man he wants.
Michael Fairweather makes pretending to be hetero goddamn difficult for Liam. The man is blond and beautiful and just so happens to be Liam’s trainer. With a penchant for doing shirtless yoga, giving midnight massages to loosen Liam’s muscles, and sometimes even taking it out in the ring with him. To say Liam has porn-style fantasies about Michael is an understatement.
Michael’s out and proud. Liam’s only proud of what he can do in the ring. He can’t risk his career, least of all for someone unavailable. Michael has a lover. Liam has the lies he lives every day. And when his money-grubbing manager gets involved as the title win approaches, Liam doesn’t know what hit him.
Fight to win. Fight with honor. It won’t be easy, but that’s okay. Nothing worth fighting for ever is.
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An Excerpt from In the Ring
“You boys ’bout done?” the ref called over.
I breathed long and deep, peering through damp hair at Michael.
He shook his head. “Nah.”
The total body torment went on and on. Neither of us cried mercy. If he was pissed off, so was I. I just wasn’t sure what I’d done to make him go all pow-pow-pow on me. I didn’t really much care. The scent of his clean perspiration was as much of an aphrodisiac as the visual of his sweating body.
I blocked a vicious jab to my face. “You’re being a dick.”
He spun away before my fist connected with his stomach. “Back atcha.”
If he wanted me, he sure had a funny way of showing it. Killing someone via sheer bodily torture didn’t usually lead to love scenes or make-out sessions. Anya was way the fuck off the mark there.
“What’s your beef, bro?” I gasped after a particularly stinging punch.
“I think you should be more discreet.” He whipped his head out of the way just as my left hook whistled past.
“With Anya. And the other women. Or all the women, if you really like Anya.”
He jogged in front of me on his feet. Left, right, left, right. “Nope.”
“This is about Anya?”
“Bull and shit.” I kicked his legs out from under him and followed him down to the mat.
I didn’t cock my fist to beat his face, but only because it was too pretty to injure.
I restrained his massive thighs with my knees. “You’re beginning to sound like Dev.”
“Call! That move is not allowed,” the ringside ref shouted.
“’S’okay. We’re not playing by the rules here, are we, Michael?”
“Nope.” His hips bucked up, and his crotch hit my growing hardness.
I aligned my torso with his. Lowering myself another inch over him, I imagined Mikey bare and begging beneath me, our cocks thrusting together.
“Dev’s a slick Mick.” His chest pumped up and he tried to push me off him.
“He’s not even a true Mick and PS. that’s an insult to my Irish upbringing, preppy motherfucker.” I pushed down on his shoulders.
“Get up, you big bastard.” With no warning at all Michael spanked my ass hard.
A resounding smack rang through the air.
His eyes widened.
Mine almost rolled back in my head.
That was so hot. I’d never imagined him slapping my ass before.
I pumped against him once then reared back in horror.
Finally the pinched-sphincter expression he’d worn all day relaxed. He licked his lips in a slow motion move I wanted to repeat with my tongue on his mouth.
“Come on, man. Let’s hit the showers.” He bucked against me one more time, and I swear to fuck there was an extra, slow-grinding motion to his hips.
“What?” I croaked.
“You stink, you fucker. Get off me so we can get showered up.”
Oh yay. Because both of us getting naked with water and suds is a great idea. You’ll drop the bar of soap between my legs and stoop down to scoop it up . . .
About Rie Warren
Rie is the badass, sassafras author of Sugar Daddy and the Don’t Tell series–a breakthrough trilogy that crosses traditional publishing boundaries beginning with In His Command. Her latest endeavors include the Carolina Bad Boys, a fun, hot, and southern-sexy series.
A Yankee transplant who has traveled the world, Rie started out a writer—causing her college professor to blush over her erotic poetry without one ounce of shame. Not much has changed. She swapped pen for paintbrushes and followed her other love during her twenties. From art school to marriage to children and many a wild and wonderful journey in between, Rie has come home to her calling. Her work has been called edgy, daring, and some of the sexiest smut around.
You can connect with Rie via the social media hangouts listed on her website. She is represented by Saritza Hernandez of the Corvisiero Literary Agency.