Free One-Two Punch by Katie Allen Page A

fight.”
    “You’ll still be my coach, right?” Beth asked, his teasing reminding her of her concern. She would never have guessed it but she liked boxing—the training part of it, at least. It wasn’t just a means to an end—or a means to a Harry—anymore.
    His arm tightened around her in a hug. “Of course. You can’t pay me though. I’ll feel like a boxing ho if you do.”
    “If I don’t pay you,” she argued as they walked out into the early morning sunshine, “doesn’t that make me the boxing ho?”
    “Ah, the old ‘boxing ho’ conundrum.” Harry nodded sagely. “Only one way to settle this.”
    “What’s that?” Beth asked.
    “In the ring.”
    She snorted. “Okay. I’ll win.”
    Raising his eyebrows, Harry said, “Think so, do you?”
    “Well, duh. You can’t hit a girl.” She grinned at him triumphantly.
    “Right.” Harry thought for a second. “Then there’s only one other way to settle this.”
    “Yeah, I know where this is—”
    “In bed.”
    “You’ll win there,” she told him.
    He looked pleased. “You think so?”
    “Of course.” Beth blushed but pressed on. “Even after one night, we both know you have the upper…hand.”
    Harry’s eyes blazed at that. With a twist of his body, he had her pressed against the brick wall of an old house and was kissing her. Arousal was instant, shocking her with its intensity. Beth wrapped her hands around the back of his skull and kissed him back—hard.
    With a groan, he raised his head, panting. “Fuck,” he gritted out. “Any more of that and we’ll be giving the kiddies walking to school an x-rated show.”
    Beth just stared at him, dazed by the desire that still ran hot beneath her skin. It was as if her body was a stranger’s, with powerful, unfamiliar emotions and needs.
    “You okay?” Harry asked, peering at her closely.
    She gave herself a shake. “Sure,” she said, pasting on a casual smile. “Come on, if I don’t get home to change I’ll never make my bus.”
    “I’ll drive you to work,” he offered but Beth shook her head.
    “I can still make it. As long as you don’t…distract me,” she told him with a teasing smile. “See?” She pointed. “There’s my building.”
    Harry followed Beth up the three flights of stairs to her apartment. Although he was preoccupied by the sway of her shapely ass as she climbed the steps in front of him, he still noticed details about her building, none of which made him happy.
    “Half of the light bulbs are out,” he grumbled, eyeing the dim corners of the hallway. He turned to see Beth struggling to turn her key in the lock. “Here,” he told her, shouldering her aside. “Let me do that.
    “The door to the building was wide open,” he complained, fiddling with the key until he heard the lock click. “Anyone can come in.”
    “Thanks,” she told him when he held the door open for her. “Yeah, the landlord isn’t very good about getting things fixed and it’s an older building, so everything is always breaking. The rent’s cheap though.” She stepped over a white envelope on the floor as she walked into the apartment. “Come on in.”
    Harry closed the door and turned the deadbolt. Her apartment was…interesting, he decided, glancing around. He was used to the exposed ductwork and open spaces of his loft. Her place had small rooms painted funky colors, battered wood floors and a general feeling of tattered corners and lopsidedness, as if everything had settled unevenly over time. It seemed cozy and comfortable enough but the security sucked.
    Bending over to pick the card off the floor, he glanced at the front of the envelope. It just said “BETH” in printed, block letters.
    “You have a letter,” he called out. She had disappeared while he was checking out her apartment.
    “It’s just a card from the mystery man. I get one every day,” she yelled back. Harry followed the sound of her voice to the bathroom, which was as small and ancient as the