Loving Kinnick (Rewritten)

I've Always Got You

I tapped away at my phone. John wanted to know where we were. We still have half an hour until we have to go, so I don't know what crawled up his ass. He wanted to talk about the fight in Vegas, and I was interested, but with Bo's humming floating through the apartment, I couldn't focus.

The sound of dishes clinking told me the food was done. I've walked into my kitchen plenty of times to know she's swinging her hips back and forth to whatever song she has played through the speakers. Although she can't keep a tune to save her life, I would rather listen to her voice than anyone else's.

"Bo!" I hollered.

The running water turned off. "Yes?"

Butterflies erupted in my stomach when I heard her feet padding against the floor. I almost choked at the beauty in front of me once she came around the counter. Her creamy legs shined, and I know she's short, but right now, they look infinite. 

My eyes trailed up her skin to see the black t-shirt I wear to my fights, the one with my last name on the back. If I didn't know any better, I'd assume she wasn't wearing anything underneath. The black material is hanging dangerously low on her hips. A red tint was painted across her lips, and I wanted nothing more than to kiss it away.

Her curls were gathered on her right shoulder, cascading down to her side. She cocked her head to the side, looking at me with question, clearly wondering why I asked her to come in here, but haven't been able to say a thing since she's arrived.

"Kinnick?" She furrowed her eyebrows. "Is everything okay?"

"Come here," I lean back on the couch.

Her polished toenails sparkled under the light. She sat in my bathroom for hours trying to perfect them last night but kept smearing it across her skin. I loved the small things about her, like how much she loves painting her nails, and no matter how many years she's spent doing it, she still manages to get more of the nail polish on her skin than her actual nail.

Her palms pressed against my chest, making my head fall back to soak her in. Her fingers ran up my collarbones before curling around my shoulders. Her thighs spread across my lap as she gently sat on my lap. I gripped her hips to hold her hostage. I didn't want her to be anywhere other than on me.

"Are you okay?" She rubbed over my chest. "Your heart is beating really fast?"

She continued rubbing soothing circles into my skin. "Kinnick?"

I sucked in a deep breath. "Sorry, you are just so fucking beautiful."

Her ears flush red. "Kinnick."

"I really like you in my shirt," I played with the hem.

"Well, I didn't want to wear my outfit while cooking," she looked down at my hands.

"Wear whatever you want," my eyes trail over her face. "What's mine is yours."

"I got it a little wet," she hid her face. " I'm sorry."

My jaw clenched as I placed my fingers under her chin and lifted her face to look at me. "And what about you? Are you wet?"

"I told you I was," she mumbled. "I was washing dishes."

"No, baby," I lowered my voice. "That is not what I meant."

She attempted to drop her gaze as embarrassment kissed the tops of her cheeks. My hand stayed on her chin to keep her eyes on me. I wanted to see the effect I had on her. She said my ability to remain confident turned her on. Not in those exact words, though. She is too shy to say anything like that.