Boxer Novels & Stories

Calista grabs my wrist and Zac goes to stand with Cain. She starts off with some boxing type workouts, getting one person to try to hit the others hands, while the other evades them. It's hard but I love it. My body seems to be a natural, striking and blocking like I've been doing it my whole life. Even when she tries to take me by surprise and kicks her leg at my ankles to knock me down, I somehow anticipate it and jump at just the right moment. I'm buzzing with adrenaline and follow her lead, throwing kicks and jabs at her, blocking and evading until we're both gasping for breath and pouring with sweat.

My brother wasn’t usually the warm and fuzzy kind so it came as a big shock to me that he’d actually given me a small piece of advice. I didn’t say anything as he wheeled away to go announce the names. But he was right. Mr. Boxer was over three hundred pounds of muscle and thus, his moments were slower. All that muscle did slow him down but only by a fraction of a second. So all I needed to do was avoid getting hit at all costs and get in a few jabs where it would hurt the most. Right then, the crowd went wild as the names were announced and the boxer entered the ring. I smirked.

This is a man, with a slight smile on his face, assessing me silently, listening to my ridiculous baffling. He is not just a man though. He's an Alpha. The Alpha.

the lounge, trembling as she dialed Isabella Blackwood's number. Boxing truly was a great way to vent frustrations. After an hour of intense training, I was drenched in sweat, feeling as if every pore in my body had opened up and released all tension. As I and Lia Kelvin headed to the bathroom to freshen up, Lia couldn’t help but admire my perfectly sculpted butterfly bones and my flawless waist-to-hip ratio. "Vivian, your body is incredible! If you ever decided to enter the entertainment industry, you'd easily outshine all the supermodels and actresses! No wonder that dog Dominic Blackwood can’t get you out of his mind." I smirked dismissively, "Which one of your eyes saw him pining for me

He is in the boxing ring. He is leaning onto the ropes, fastening his gloves. Not the big abs padded ones we usually use, but the ones that are only meant to protect your hand's skin. His shirt is off, and that shows me the new scratches and bruises up and down this sculpted torso. I hate seeing that on him. I wish I could do something to help. I stare at his body for as long as I can before he sees me in the doorway. "Come on." He says.

But I would not back down. He turned to leave, but I pulled him back. There was a big contest happening in the school, open only to senior year students. It was a contest in which the winner got to face Draven Ardent, the youngest and best boxer in the city. If I could enter the contest, I believed I could win, and maybe even beat Draven. I weighed just fifty-two kilograms and stood at five foot six. But I was completely convinced I could beat the boys in the contest. I had been training secretly for the past three months. All I needed was for Coach Peterston to agree.

I walked around the ring. "No rules. We fight until death. " I smirked and tossed the microphone aside. I caught a glimpse of Luca. He looked like he was enjoying the show. "What do you say, fucker? " I taunted 'Boxer'. He let out a low growl, clearly irritated. Anger leads to mistakes. He nodded and brought his fists together. The leather arm bands he wore were cutting off blood flow to his hands, but he didn’t seem to care. I moistened my lips and stretched my arms out in front of me.

His cheek was practically up against mine, and I was afraid he’d move if I turned. “Yeah,” I whispered. I was blushing so hard, I was worried he’d feel the heat coming off of my cheeks. “That’s because he’s a jiu-jitsu guy. He wants to take the fight to the ground, because then he will have the advantage.” “And the other guy?” I asked. I was just trying to find questions at this point so that he would stay close to me. “He’s a boxer. You can tell because he’s trying to use his reach and speed to get hits while they’re standing.”

“I hope so.” “And how’s your head?” “No problem,” he said. “I’ve boxed for almost twenty years, twelve of them pro. I barely feel a little tap on my head anymore.” Sarah Gillis’ eyes lingered on his arms and chest for a few seconds. A boxer. Yum. This guy is incredible. I’m not sure how much I’d mind being trapped in a sleeping bag on a barn floor with him during a snow storm.

Jack whispered, a breathtaking, genuine smile stretching across his face. Marcus stood a half-step behind him, exactly where the Bastion was supposed to be. The boxer wore a sleek, sleeveless combat rig of dark grey kinetic fabric that highlighted the heavy, scarred muscle of his massive arms. His hands were bound in fresh, pristine athletic tape, but beneath the fabric, the Liquid Silver mana was already simmering, coiled and ready.