by Ciz, Alley
Not once had they ceased in their teasing of Griff.
“Where are we going anyway?” he asked, not like he would know the place, but curious all the same.
“This club in New Brunswick called The Lounge. Simone spins there on the reg,” Griff answered.
“Simone?”
“Griff’s love of his life…at least for the moment,” Becky said with a chuckle.
“What can I say? Deep down, I’m a hopeless romantic.” Griff placed a hand over his heart.
The whole car burst out laughing and spent more time razzing on Griff.
The whole thing reminded him of how he and Wyatt were with each other. If he could keep that in mind, focusing on the individuals instead of the group as a whole, he just might be able to navigate his way around their dynamics.
“It’s a nice place. Not a complete college scene. More like fifty-fifty,” Vince said, shifting to face him.
“It’s not our typical scene, but we do like to branch out,” Becky added.
“And what would be a typical night out for you guys?” He was curious about them. And not just because of his attraction to Rocky. Between home and work, it didn't seem like he was going to be spending much time away from these people.
“Well, if we want something laid back, with some good food and maybe a round of pool, we’ll go to The Ring, where we first met you.” And where had likely changed the trajectory of his life forever. “But if we wanna go out out, we go to Rookies. It’s a sports bar our friends’ aunt owns.”
“There’s a separate bar area there, so it’s easy enough for us to chill,” Vince said.
“Plus, it’s got a little of everything—whatever sports event is currently going on playing on the TVs, alcohol, and a dance floor for when I feel like getting down with my bad self.” Becky threw her arms in the air, dancing in her seat.
“I can’t take you anywhere, Beck,” Rocky said with a laugh.
“Fact. It’s a huge risk taking her out without the rest of The Coven, that’s for sure,” Vince quipped.
“You guys talk about 'The Coven'”—he put air quotes around the name—“all the time. When do I get to meet the rest of them?”
“Bro. No,” Vince warned with a smile. “You want to avoid a gathering for as long as humanly possible. Enjoy your freedom while it lasts, because the six of them are going to rule your life.”
“Don’t be melodramatic, Vin,” Rocky scolded.
“You trying to tell me Jordan doesn’t run a tight ship?”
“No. But you act like we control everything in your life. It's only professionally you have to listen to us.”
“Yet you guys are like puppet masters, pulling the strings behind the scene.”
Rocky shrugged, neither confirming nor denying the accusation.
“Besides, Vin,” Becky cut in. “Has she not helped you make an insane amount of money in endorsements before you even have a belt?”
“No, you’re right. I bow down to the master.” Vince mock-bowed in his seat. “Maybe having Gage joining the gym will help tip the scales in our favor.”
Hearing how easily they accepted him into the fold both thrilled and terrified him.
Chapter Ten
A few minutes later, their Uber driver was pulling up to a curb, letting them out to meet up with the guys from the other car. The line outside the nondescript black building was half a block deep waiting to get in. They bypassed the line and within moments a hostess greeted them and quickly showed them to a private table section in the back.
Keeping the two girls between them, they made their way through the already crowded dance floor without much issue.
Everyone settled into the couches in the seating area of their roped off section and gave their drink orders to their server for the night. Gage watched Griff smile when Rocky pointed out that they were right next to Simone’s DJ booth, waving when he caught her eye.
This club wasn't bad, even if he normally preferred a low-key bar like they talked about earlier.
The Lounge had a simple setup—a bar on either side of the large dance floor, with private seating areas like theirs scattered along the edges. The place was packed and the dance floor bumping. Griff’s DJ knew how to get the crowd going. He was sure his ears would be ringing when they left, but at least he wasn’t stuck listening to bad house music. He considered it a win.
Like in the car and at the gym, conversation and jokes flowed easily amongst the group. He attempted to weave in occasionally but was content on the outskirts.
Shortly after the server brought their next round of drinks, he noticed a couple big guys pointing at them then heading in their direction.
“Yo, Rock,” one of them called.
She looked over when she heard her name called and smiled. “Dude!” she called out and much to his chagrin, she walked down to where the two men stood and hugged them.
Becky joined them by the ropes and after a brief conversation, the girls stepped down from their roped off section, the guys looped their arms around their shoulders, and all of them walked over to where they were pointing earlier.
Wasn't that interesting?
He ground a layer off his molars watching some stranger put his hands on Rocky. It didn’t matter how unreasonable the reaction was. He interrupted whatever conversation Vince and Deck were having next to him. “Boyfriends?” he asked with a nod toward the foursome walking across the dance floor.
“Them?” Vince asked.
“Nah,” Deck said. “They know the girls from when Rock worked with the hockey team before she graduated.”
“Yeah, Rock is like the mayor of the world. Anyone who gets to know her loves her. I think before her season with the team was over, more than half the guys were ready to propose,” Vince chuckled.
Gage did not feel like laughing. No, he wanted to hit something, preferable any male who made eyes at his girl.
Whoa. Hold on there, cowboy. Back up. Rocky is not your girl. Just because you’re open to the possibility doesn’t it make it true. So chill with the caveman urges until you have the right.
His inner monologue didn’t help quell his irrational urges though. He was supremely grateful for the beer in his hand at the moment. Taking a long pull from the bottle, he tuned back into what the guys were saying.
“—even with them dating she got hit on all the time.” Shit. He'd missed the first half of what Nick was saying.
“Yeah, but Cap kept everyone in line. He knew her instincts were too important to the team to let them be a bunch of puck heads and risk scaring her off,” Damon added.
“Nah, we all know Rock can handle herself.” Vince paused to take a drink of his club soda. Since he was in the middle of a training camp for a fight, he didn't mess around with alcohol or anything that might disrupt his nutrition goals. “Honestly, I’m just grateful she chose to work at the gym and didn’t accept the offer she had from the Blizzards.”
Gage frowned at that. It was a gut feeling, but the few times it had come up in conversation with Rocky, he had gotten the impression it wasn’t what she would have chosen for herself.
Try as he might, he couldn’t keep his attention from being drawn back to her. His free hand balled into a fist when he noticed she and Beck were now on the dance floor with some of the guys. He had no claim on her but he was determined to change that—as soon as possible.
He was trying to come up with a reason for joining the girls on the dance floor and interrupting their current partnerships without being too obvious, when Nick said, "Let's get out there."
Rocky and Becky greeted them with cheers. A few other girls had gravitated toward the group and he made his move behind Rocky.
His hand went to the dip of her waist and she turned around sharply when she felt his presence. Her face eased into another one of those breathtaking smiles when she realized it was him. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He took the chance to pull her closer to his body.
She responded by drapin
g her arms over his shoulders, never missing a step. “Wasn’t sure if you would dance.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Not all guys like to dance.” She shrugged. “Or really know how to move once out here, anyway.”
Her luscious body brushing against his made him envision them doing the same in a more private setting, without any of these pesky clothes in the way. He knew the instant she noticed the effect she was having on his body by the widening of her eyes. Instead of pulling away, the little brat invaded his space even more and continued dancing.
He gave her a wolfish smile then proceeded to demonstrate exactly how skillfully he did move.
* * *
Between the alcohol and Gage’s dance moves—and praise all things Channing Tatum, the guy could move—Rocky lost count of the number of songs she spent on the dance floor with him.
Her burning cheeks had nothing to do with exertion and everything to do with grinding herself against the apparent wreck bag he kept in his pants.
She wanted nothing more than to straddle one of his legs and grind herself on what she knew firsthand was a rock hard thigh, and she knew that was a terrible idea, so she spun away from him and let her ass do the grinding instead.
He held her with a hand on her stomach, his fingers so long they brushed the underwire band of her bra.
She loved that even with the short heel she had on, he still had more than half a foot on her. Sure, her last boyfriend was tall enough that she could wear heels around him, but it was nice to feel what most girls got to experience with guys.
Finally needing a break, everyone—along with some of the others the guys picked up dancing—headed back to their private seating area.
Her head spun a bit—thank you, tequila—as she dropped to the couch next to Gage with a less than graceful plop. It was a tight squeeze of people in their little sitting area now, so she draped her legs over one of his tree trunks in a move she would have never been bold enough to make without the aid of alcohol lowering her reservations. His hand landed on her bare thigh, hot, heavy and possessive.
“Any marriage proposals tonight, Rock?” Declan ribbed.
She let out a bark of laughter and stretched out to smack him on the arm. “Shut up. You do know none of them actually proposed, asshole.” She gave him a get serious look. “Besides, there is no way any of them would dare say anything like that to me with all you guys here.” She circled a finger, indicating their group.
“Why? Scared of these guns?” Ray said as he flexed one of his impressive arms, straining the seams of his shirt. The guys guffawed like he was the cleverest man in the universe.
“Idiots, I swear. All of you.” Her smile took all the heat out of her words.
“You guys act like you’re so tough,” Becky teased.
Gage was the only one not really joining in on the joking, but she couldn’t expend too much brain power on the thought, too busy luxuriating in the feel of his touch.
His large hand was still cupped around her leg, his thumb stroking the skin exposed between the hem of her dress and the top of her boots. She was thankful for the padded bra she had on—otherwise the whole club would be able to see the effect he had on her.
It didn’t matter how many times she reminded herself she didn’t date fighters. Anytime he turned those vibrant eyes in her direction, the breath hitched in her chest at the heat banked within those blue depths.
She was so screwed.
And that wasn’t even taking into account that he was technically forbidden. Gym rules.
* * *
Gage spent the night soaking up every bit of information he heard like a sponge. He even thought he did a decent job assimilating into the different discussions the group bounced between.
When they finally called it a night, Griff stayed behind to wait for Simone, Nick and Damon cabbed it home, and everyone who lived at The Hightower piled into an Uber together.
Deck rode up front with the driver, Ray and Vince took the captain's chairs, and he squeezed in the back row with the girls. It was a tight fit but he wasn’t going to complain about having Rocky’s body pressed tight against his for the ride home.
He'd made a decision tonight. Before they reached their destination, he leaned over to nuzzle her ear. He couldn’t stop his grin when he felt her body shudder. He relished that visceral reaction from the simple brush of his lips on her skin. It settled something primal inside him.
Taking another deep inhalation of the blueberry scent he now associated with her, he whispered, “Just so you know…I have every intention of making you mine.”
Chapter Eleven
Rocky shut the door to her bedroom and leaned against it. Her knees were still weak from Gage’s declaration in the car. Part of her wanted to immediately reject the idea that he was serious, but instinctively she knew it was the truth.
Gage James, her celebrity crush, was one thing. She'd followed his career since he started fighting in the UFC as one of the undercard fighters.
Gage James, the man, was a whole other ball game—she didn’t stand a chance.
Making her way over to her bed, she sat down to pull off her boots and socks. Pushing her bare feet into the floor to stretch them out after being propped in the short heel all night, she let out a groan of relief at the simple pleasure. There was nothing better than taking off a pair of heels after dancing most of the night away.
Standing to peel her tight dress down her body, she felt another tremor run down her spine as she replayed his growled words for the millionth time. The memory of them whispered in that gravelly, sexy voice of his gave her delicious shivers.
Reaching behind her back, she unclasped her bra and let out a shuddering breath at the memory. His. He said he was going to make her his.
She was in trouble. Big, big, six feet seven inches of panty-ruining hotness trouble.
She climbed into bed in her underwear and lay on her stomach. Her body melted into the memory foam mattress beneath her as she pulled the plush comforter up around her shoulders.
She had a feeling she was about to break the only rule she set for herself—no fighters.
Snapshots of the last couple of weeks flashed through her mind.
Looking up and seeing Gage at The Ring.
The way his muscles flexed and shone while sparring at the gym.
The hungry look in his eyes when he saw her dressed up for the club.
How he moved against her dancing. God, it was hot.
There was an almost easy possession in the way he touched her. Holding her waist, his fingers skimming up her back as they swayed, his palm pressing flat against it to eliminate the last of the space between them.
And finally, there was the vibrant fire she saw blazing in the bright blue depths of his eyes when he made his declaration in the car.
Her body heated under the covers and it had nothing to do with the down filling and everything to do with Gage. Her nipples puckered and she pulsed between her legs. Pressing her thighs together to alleviate the ache was no help. There was no way she would get any sleep without relieving the pressure.
She was so worked up from their foreplay on the dance floor, the feel of his hands on her body, stroking the bare skin of her leg while they all talked at the club, she knew it wouldn’t take much to push her over the edge.
Pulling an arm from under the pillow, she worked it down her body and under the edge of her panties. She wasn’t surprised to find herself already wet and swollen.
Getting right to the point, she pressed her finger to her clit. The weight of her body trapped her hand and created extra pressure for her ministrations.
She imagined Gage pinning her to the mattress. His large frame always made her feel petite.
He would keep her body tight to his, the same way he did while they danced. His hips would move back and forth, riding the curve of her ass as he worked her with his fingers.
Her own fingers mimicked the relentless pace she had a feeling he
would set, her index and middle fingers pulsing one after the other in a quick rhythm.
Index-middle.
Index-middle.
Gage growling in her ear.
Index-middle.
She felt the first tremors of orgasm ripple in her belly. A few more strokes and off she went.
She continued to caress herself lightly as she came down from her high. After she was completely spent, she pulled her hand from between her thighs and wiped the moisture off on her underwear then relaxed back into the mattress.
Visions of cerulean blue eyes followed her into her dreams where the word mine echoed as she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Twelve
Normally after a late night out, Gage would take it easy the next day, but he had to do something to help release the tension coursing through his body.
What did he do?
He got up and ran ten miles.
Did it help?
No, not really.
No matter what he did, he couldn’t force the memories of Rocky from his mind. The way she looked in her body-hugging dress that was clearly designed to make men stupid. Or how well they moved together dancing. He could only imagine how it would feel horizontal. Hell, they didn’t have to be horizontal, he had absolutely nothing against taking her pressed against the wall or bent over a table. The possibilities were endless.
Pulling the hem of his t-shirt up to wipe the sweat from his brow, he stepped onto the elevator. When the doors were closing, he heard someone call out, “Hey, hold the elevator.” Instinctively, he reached out his hand.
“Thanks,” the woman said with a cursory look at him before giving him a double take. “Hi, Gage. I heard you moved in. I'm Gemma.”
He looked into the familiar gray eyes. Unlike her tall cousins, Gemma Steele was average height and had shoulder-length brown hair instead of the dark blue-black. She didn’t spend the same amount of time at the gym as Rocky or Becky, but he’d seen her around.