With each heavy, broken breath, the musky, appealing scent of sex filled his nostrils. On a groan, Harley Handleman rolled away from the woman lying facedown beneath him. Eyes burning and his heartbeat still thundering, he fell onto his back.Lord have mercy. She had drained him, used him up; he definitely felt sated.But still, curiously, he remained unfulfilled.Several minutes passed before his pulse slowed to a normal pace and cool air dried the dampness on his chest. The woman never stirred.He was glad of that. Any small talk after sex bored him. Anything more than small talk annoyed him.He was a prick and he knew it, but he told women up-front what he wanted, and what he didn’t. Gloria—he didn’t know her last name—had crawled into bed with him with her eyes wide open, her illusions dashed…and an anticipatory smile on her face.Staring at the ceiling, Harley put his right arm behind his head and, by male instinct alone, reached his left hand over to palpate a lush derriere. Silky skin encouraged the light caress, but it was an uninvolved gesture.Already his thoughts had gone from sex to other, more pertinent things.Life.Family.The upcoming fight.His brain ticked like a bomb.Because of his MMA fighting success in the SBC organization, and his easy carnal triumphs with women, most men would envy him.But they didn’t know everything.They didn’t live with his constant, gnawing need to not only succeed in mixed martial arts, but win an SBC title belt.Thinking about it demolished his relaxed state; every muscle went taut.So many times he’d come close to proving himself a champion, working his way through the ranks, annihilating every fighter in his path.
