Follow My Heart (The Wrestler's Heart Book 1)

CHAPTER ONE

 (Hillary)

I spun in a slow circle. Taking in the lights, the idle cameras, and thousands of plush seats. The gigantic space appeared endless and I felt dizzy when I imagined it full of people. The same way he saw it, standing in the center of the coliseum on a squared platform, enclosed by springy ropes. I tried to imagine how the rumble of excitement felt beneath my heel and how the roaring cheers and jeers would tingle my ears. But thinking of an all-eyes-on-me circumstance transported me back in time. To my adolescence and the only moment that vaguely compared.

The debate course wasn't my idea. Who would want to stand in front of the entire class babbling and stuttering with a racing heart, sweaty palms, and a stomach ready to spew bland cafeteria lunch? While everyone snickered as if I stood in only a bra and panties?

How did he do it night after night? My eyes shifted to him, Ethan Hart, the famous bad boy, casually leaned against a turnbuckle in faded jeans and a plain white tank that exposed thick biceps. Just the sight of him turned me to dumbfounded stone. He flashed cute dimples, curled full lips into that well-known half-smirk, and untamed dirty blonde locks hid one eye.

The up-close view flabbergasted. Causing me to stand wide-eyed. Jaw unhinged. Just like the first time I had seen him, but he was much taller than he appeared on my thirty-two-inch screen. His shoulders, much broader. His arms, just the right amount of definition, which meant he wasn't freakishly muscular with veins pushed up against his skin. I hated that.

Ethan enjoyed an atypical career. He was a professional wrestler and he displayed his talent live on camera. His character, a hardcore, take what he wanted, even if it didn't belong to him, type of man, earned notoriety almost as much as his electric coal-black eyes. Which, at that moment, he focused on me with unwavering attention, causing my pulse to quicken as he crossed the distance between us.

My frame bobbed with each step he took on the soft mat. He brought a broad hand to cup my cheek. The slightly calloused, gentle touch said that his job was more than glitzy glamour. Woodsy cologne cast a mesmerizing spell, turning me to putty in his hands, and from the twinkle in his eye, I think he noticed.

Lightly, lips touched mine, rolling seductively over my bottom lip as he pulled them away. Then, his gaze met mine, and stared as if I were the only woman he had ever been so eager to kiss.

My thoughts begged. Pleaded. Desperately needing something vocal. Anything! One word from him could break the hypnotic effect and save me from slipping off the edge of rationality. But he said nothing! Gave me nothing! Except an impish smirk that made me wonder if he could see every hidden desire concealed behind my timid gawp.

Softly, he grazed my bare shoulder with his fingertips, then trailed them down my arm. All the while, his eyes locked. His gaze filled with... adoration? Desire? Lust? I wanted to think it mattered. It should matter, but I wasn't so sure.

He lowered his lips to my neck. It tilted in obedience. I struggled to resist and stiffened my body in obvious reject, but a rogue moan escaped without my consent.

He emitted a pleased, breathy chuckle then he repeated the offense. Opening his mouth and lightly sucking the skin causing my legs, weak as wet noodles, to wobble. My body gave in, following his every command. Ignoring inner chiding as if my brain could no longer control its actions. Our bodies slipped lower until I laid flat on the mat beneath his hovering frame, which was exactly where he wanted me.

He gazed with longing. "Can I?" he asked with an innocence that made me forget he held all the power.

I nodded.

His lips passionately took control and I parted mine. Allowing our tongues to enjoy their dance while the warmth of his palm on my stomach sent a slight shiver of nervousness as it traced a path.