by K. A Knight
“Okay, moving on,” he grunts out, his face turning even redder. This is a fun game, but I decide to take pity on him.
“Can you do it?” I ask.
It takes him the longest time to think about it and when he finally does, he shakes his head, sending disappointment coursing through me. Damn, back to square one.
“But I might know someone who can…”
Eagerly I lean forward, and he grimaces.
“He’s a scary motherfucker though, and will probably say no.”
“Let me handle that, who can say no to this cute face?” I stick out my tongue and blink innocently, and he looks like he is holding in a fart.
“Sure thing, let me just grab some clothes and I will take you to him.”
Fuck me sideways and hose me down, he is a beast. We aren’t talking the hairy kind, but the kind that makes your panties wet and your nipples hard. Dark brown hair, reaching below his ears and mussed, merges into a trimmed dark brown beard. His face is square and beautiful in a deadly way. He’s tall, way too fucking tall, and built like a brick shit house. He’s older than me, probably older than even Evan, and his arms are thicker than my entire torso. Anger seems to follow him, giving everyone a clear fuck off vibe.
I am pretty sure I’m drooling from my mouth and my sausage wallet, but damn!
“Earth to Piper.” Todd waves his hand in front of my eyes with a funny look on his face.
“Uh huh, man tits,” I blurt, before snapping my mouth shut and looking at Todd. He snorts before bursting into laughter. I can’t help but join in and that's how Mr. Wet Dreams finds me, leaning on Todd with tears streaming down my face as I snort like a pig. Hot.
He lifts the bottom of his shirt and wipes his sweaty face, giving me a good view of the eight pack and adonis belt carved into his skin. This man is pure lethal power, and it shows. But he also seems too rough, too...other to be a paradise guard. Everyone down here is so clean cut and good, but this man looks like he would show up covered in blood and not apologise. Grunting, he grips the shirt and rips it off. Scars, both faded and newer looking, criss-cross randomly on his chest like he has been in a lot of near-death situations. When he turns to throw the shirt on the floor, I notice his back is covered in long, thick brutal looking scars, but it only adds to the man before me. He’s savage, I knew that coming in, but seeing his survival and fight carved onto his body has me shifting uncomfortably, trying to ease the ache between my thighs. He is all power, dark and dangerous, and I want it all. I want that fury aimed at me.
“What the fuck do you want?” he asks, striding towards us and towering over me, looking down at both me and Todd with a blank expression. He makes Todd look like a child and as his muscles clench, I bet he could snap me in two without breaking a sweat. The word fuck coming from his mouth only makes me sweat harder, holy shit.
“Err- hi, Jago, Piper here wanted to meet you.” With that, Todd pushes me forward, sacrificing me to the angry giant and turns and walks quickly away. Pussy.
He looks down at me, his eyes so intense I gasp. They look like they are on fire. A deep brown closest to the pupil fades to an amber on the outside, and they are centered on me, staring into me. Have you ever looked into someone's eyes and just know they can see all your secrets? Well, this look sends shivers right down my spine. “What do you want?” he repeats, not in a rude way, but more like he is already thinking of other things he should be doing.
“I want you to train me,” I say bluntly, already recognizing him as someone who doesn’t do small talk and bullshit. It’s refreshing.
“No.” With that, he turns and walks back to the mats.
“Not even going to think about it?” I call, starting to get pissy.
“No,” he reiterates, as he starts boxing the bag and dancing around it. For someone so big, he sure is light on his feet. His brush off only adds to the anger burning in the pit of my stomach, one that started when I saw Evan kissing that woman.
“Just because you are hot doesn’t mean you can be a cummuffin!” I shout before making my way back into his line of sight. “Train me, I want to go on patrol and we both know they won’t accept a woman, not unless someone vouches for me. I have a month.” He continues moving around and I move with him. “I will do everything you say, I will work harder than any other recruit. Please, just give me a chance.” He stops and pants, still staring at the bag. I watch his jaw move before he turns and stalks along the mat.
“No, the outside isn’t any place for a little girl. Go work in hairdressing or beauty,” he dismisses me, and my eyes narrow. That motherfucking cuntholio. I don’t know what comes over me, apart from that I want to prove him wrong. I am betting he never expected a ‘little girl’ to attack him from behind, but when you are an orphan girl, you do learn some moves. Plus, I dated an armoury recruit, let’s just say the roughhousing turned me on.
Light on my feet I run at him, at the last second, I slide and kick his feet out from under him. It’s not smooth or refined like I am betting his fighting is, but it does the trick. He goes tumbling down, but I don’t even manage to move from my back on the mat before he flips and has me pinned with my hands above my head, his face inches from mine. Fuck he's fast, I twist experimentally, and he doesn't even budge. It should scare me, but my heart is racing and my chest is heaving for another reason.
“How do you get out of this position?” he demands, his fiery eyes pinning me to the spot just like his body. It takes an embarrassingly long time for his words to penetrate my mind but when they do, I think it through. He bangs my hands back down on the mat and growls, “Concentrate.”
Grunting, I slowly bring my legs up. I quickly wrap them around his neck and yank backwards. The move is unexpected because he falls back, which drags me up until I have him pinned. I see respect bloom in his eyes before he squashes it.
“Good, but this hold is easy to break out of,” he says, before bringing his arms up through the triangle my legs are making around his neck and pushing. My thighs shake with the effort, but I gasp and fall away, he is too strong.
He sits up slowly and we watch each other. “You’re weak, but you’re small and fast, there are moves you would be able to pull, it’s not all about brute strength.”
With that he stands, and grabs his shirt from the side and starts to walk away, leaving me confused on the mat. “Does that mean you will train me?” I shout and I hear him laugh, the deep rough sound sending shivers through my body.
“No,” he yells back, and then he is gone, and I fall back onto the mat with a groan, but I can’t help but smile. He doesn’t know what he just got himself into, I am not giving up. Stalker mode initiated.
The next morning, I am in the gym bright and early in my workout clothes. Some stretchy black skin-tight trousers and a black tank top. I bribed Todd to tell me Jago’s schedule. It turns out he is one of the lead patrols, but he only ever goes out alone. He’s a legend among the guards, he doesn't work well with others, and the Paradise guards stay well away. He wasn't even born down here, he came from outside. No one knows from where, he just showed up one day on patrols half dead and they took him in. That is a miracle in itself. Rumours and stories circle him, and I find myself wanting to know the truth. He is also very regimented, the dude obviously has a thing for schedules. He trains every day from six to eight, then breakfast after that before he trains other recruits. Then he works late evening to night patrol. He is like a machine, I wonder if he ever sleeps. He probably just reboots like a computer or some weird shit.
So yeah, here I am like a stalker waiting outside the gym for him. I smiled sweetly at the cafeteria guy, he's had a crush on me forever which I thoroughly exploit for that synthetic coffee shit. So, I have two in my hands waiting for beefcake to turn up, and like clockwork he does.
When he sees me, he grunts, but I see the corner of his lip quirk up before he masks it. He goes as if to walk past me and I slide in front of the door, thrusting the coffee at him. He eyes it like it�
�s an alien. “You shouldn’t drink that shit.”
I gasp dramatically and pull it to my chest, shielding it. I whisper down to it, “Don’t listen to Meany McMean pants, he didn’t mean it. You are the elixir of life and I will never give you up.”
He eyes me strangely before trying to walk past me once more. He sighs when I block his way again. “You aren’t going to give up, are you?”
“Nope, I am delightful like that. One of my teachers referred to me as stubborn as a tick on a tit,” I supply helpfully, and down one coffee even as it burns my mouth before bringing the other to my mouth. I blame the coffee, since I have my hands full and I can’t stop him when he grips my hips and picks me up, before depositing me next to the door. Then without speaking, he enters the gym and leaves me there gaping at him.
“More words than most people have got sweetie, but why don’t you try a man who might be interested.” I turn and stare at the guard who is entering the gym. He winks and slips inside. Ugh, what a prick, like women only go after a man for one reason? Can’t a girl just want them to teach them how to become a badass? Honestly, it’s a little insulting.
Downing the rest of the coffee, I dispose of the reusable cups in the container in the corner before entering the gym. Damn, you can almost taste the testosterone in here. It’s basically a giant circle jerk.
Looking around, I only have one thought—penises, penises everywhere. Wrinkling my nose at the smell of sweat, I look around for my target. I notice a few men staring at me, but I ignore them and hone in on Jago. He is in the back corner and it looks like his reputation precedes him. Every other inch of the gym is crawling with training guards, but there is a whole circle of empty space around him, and the men nearest eye him warily. Me? I trot up to him, ignoring the incredulous looks being thrown my way and the guys checking me out. I nearly reach him but a buff looking dumbbell dude steps in in front of me, smiling at me in a way that is obviously supposed to be seductive.
“Hey sweetness, did you want to play? I’d be happy to oblige.” He lowers his voice as I look him up and down, he puffs out his chest and I have to hold in laugh. But why do guys always call you something along the lines of sweet? The only thing sweet about me is the fake sugar running through my veins from the coffee...
“No thanks, looks like you play with yourself enough,” I quip, before stepping around him and jumping up on the chair next to Jago. He is lifting weights, a mirror at his side, and I sit swinging my legs back and forth watching him. Eventually he must get sick of me because he puts the weight down and eyes me right back. “You look ridiculous,” he comments before turning back around.
“If by ridiculous you mean ridiculously hot, then yes, I do,” I supply and go back to watching him. He moves like a well-oiled machine, pure strength as he pushes his body. He doesn’t come here to show off like the others, he comes here to challenge himself, that much is obvious.
“What?” he grunts as he lifts the weight.
I tilt my head and stare at him. “I just realised you don’t care about showing off. For you, this is to push yourself, to make yourself the best you can be.”
He freezes, before dropping the weight and looking at me strangely. “What makes you say that?”
“Well for starters, you don’t go around showing off how much you can bench. You don’t care if the others are looking—hell, there could be a group surrounding you and you would feel more uncomfortable than by yourself. I see that fire in your eyes, you want to go harder, be better,” I finish, before whistling as I look around the gym. The silence stretches and I look back to see him looking shocked. “What?” I ask confused.
He stares at me for so long I start to fidget, twisting my mum’s ring on my finger. Finally, he grunts and stands up. “You best go home now, things are about to get dirty.”
I grin and jump up. “Yes, the best type of fun! Will there be jelly? Mud wrestling? Whose arse are we kicking? Will there be blood? I can’t wait!” I bounce up and down, the coffee kicking in. He looks down at me, arching one eyebrow before reaching out and putting a hand on my head, stilling my movements. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I nod and follow him as he marches to the mat, where the other fighters are slowly clearing away. When he stops, I run into his back and grunt, before falling back on my ass. Jumping up I hold my hands up when every eye turns my way. “I’m okay, dude’s back is like a wall is all.”
He groans before turning around, throwing me over his shoulder and striding away from the mats. When he deems it a safe distance, he plops me onto a chair and points in my face. “Stay.” I nod.
He turns and walks away, but glances back like he doesn’t trust me not to move. When he sees me, I wave and I watch his lips quirk again before he turns back around, then his face is wiped clean like I imagined it.
“Who’s first?” he grumbles, standing in the middle of the mat as at least thirty guards look between each other. I can almost taste the anticipation in the air.
I jump when a hand lands on my shoulder, and looking up, I smile at Todd. “What’s going on?” I ask curiously, glancing back to the mats to see three men join Jago.
“Every day the guards test their strength against him, it’s a running game. No one has managed to take him down yet,” he explains, crossing his arms and watching with everyone else.
“No one?” I question in shock, thinking back to yesterday when I got lucky.
“Nope, the guy’s patrol name is Beast, because he fights fast and dirty. He doesn't give a shit about holding back or rules. Doesn’t make you friends, but he doesn't care.”
I nod as Todd speaks, and in breathless admiration, I watch as within two minutes he dispatches the first three guards without even breaking a sweat. He crunched one's nose, knocked one out, and I am pretty sure the third has broken ribs. Todd is right, he fights dirty. Once you are in his sights he attacks, no waiting, and no hesitation. He goes in for the kill every time.
He waits for the next lot, and this time four step onto the mat. Big, mean looking bastards. He just blinks at them and waits. One moves to attack, and Jago is gone, like lightning he darts around and wraps his arm around the other guy’s neck, choking him out. One of the others goes in, circling behind him and trying for a cheap shot. Jago simply throws the man in his arms clear across the room and turns around with a ninja kick to the side, catching the man in the face. He goes down hard and doesn't stir. The two others yell and go at him. They exchange blows, him blocking them both and scoring hits on them, until they are panting. One’s arms falter and he upper-cuts him and turns his attention to the remaining man. They circle each other and Jago grins, before reaching down and jerking the mat, sending the man tumbling. He is on him in a second, pounding his head into the mat, again and again, until he lets go and the man doesn't move.
Standing he looks around, this time a trickle of sweat drips down his chest. When no one else steps forward, I see his shoulders relax. A stupid idea hits me, seriously stupid. Like, don’t do it, but if it pays off, I can use it to make him train me and if it doesn’t, I am no worse off, apart from having my ass handed to me but... shit I know it’s stupid.
Does that stop me from doing it? Hell no.
Leaping from the chair, I stride with confidence that I don’t feel onto the mat. He hears me coming, his head tilting. When he turns, I see the flash in his eyes before he narrows them on me.
“No,” he growls out.
I roll my shoulders and bounce on my feet. “You submitting to me?” I grin and whispers start amongst the other guards. He turns his glare on them before looking back at me.
“I am not beating up a girl,” he intonates slowly, like I am stupid.
“Good, then I will beat you up.” With that I fling myself at him, going for the element of surprise again. It’s all I have on him. He outweighs me, is faster, stronger, and a hell of a better fighter.
He dodges at the last minute and I spin and jump again. He holds his arm out mid jump, kno
cking into my chest and sending me flying as the breath is knocked out of me.
I get back up slower this time and he rolls his eyes. “Stay down,” he says and I shake my head.
“Make me,” I dare him, and I see that flash again, before he unleashes himself. I can still tell he’s holding himself back, but he doesn't wait for me to attack. He tries to put me down, hard and fast. He darts in and elbows my stomach, sending me reeling, and then he kicks out at my legs, dropping me to my arse. I grumble but get up slowly, ignoring the pain in my stomach. His eyebrow rises when I get to my feet, but he comes at me again. I manage to slip around some of the punches and I dart in and punch his stomach, which seems to hurt me more than him, but I see the surprise in his eyes, and he regards me more carefully as we stare at each other. One minute he is still, the next he is whirling towards me. I duck and weave the best I can, stumbling back to avoid his punches. I see him balance on one leg and jump as he kicks out, only to miss the punch aimed at my head. It connects with my chin and sends me sprawling, and I am pretty sure I see stars. Face down into the mat I push up and rest my forehead on it.
“Stay down,” he orders, and when I slowly turn my head, I spot him crouched next to me.
I ignore him and push to my feet, wobbling this time. My body hurts and my muscles are shaking. He sighs, but I see him grin before he stands again. This time he holds his hands out to the side and waits.
I dart in once or twice, testing him and when he doesn't react, I feign left before punching out at his neck. His eyes widen and he gasps when I connect, his hands coming up to protect his face as he struggles to breathe. I take his hesitation and knee his junk, not a nice move, but he does fight dirty and so will I. He falls to his knees with a wheeze, his hands going to his cock, covering it protectively.
I grin but when I see the look on his face, it fades into a squeal. “Run,” he growls.
Shit, shit, shit, fucking shit on a dick and spin.