In Your Corner

by Sarah Castille

“Maybe I’ll wait until after the fight.”

  “Oh fer…RENEGADE! ’MANDA’S HERE.” He shoves me and I stumble toward the cage. My heart thuds wildly in my chest and I force a smile, but Jake’s face remains an expressionless mask. When he turns away to talk to the referee, my stomach clenches.

  “I should go.”

  Rampage’s gaze flicks from me to Jake and back to me. “I don’t think you wanna do that.”

  “I don’t know what I want.”

  Rampage chuckles and throws an arm around my shoulder. “If you didn’t know what you wanted, you wouldn’t have come here.”

  The ref blows the whistle. Jake is quick to start, moving Axe Man back with a flurry of punches. He lands a solid jab and a leg kick that throws Axe Man against the cage, but Axe Man isn’t even winded. He comes raging back with a combination of powerful kicks and punches that have Jake staggering across the mat until the fence is at his back. With Jake trapped, Axe Man hooks Jake’s head and unloads with some devastating uppercuts. Jake reels back against the fence, but Axe Man continues his assault, firing away with some brutal lefts.

  “Oh God.” My hand flies to my mouth and Rampage frowns. Quickly swallowing my fear, I shout and cheer instead. My enthusiasm draws Jake’s attention. His eyes focus like laser beams on my shoulders and Rampage snatches his arm away with a muttered string of curses.

  Axe Man takes advantage of his distraction to deliver some more devastating lefts. Jake sags to a seated position and bile rises in my throat. For the first time ever, I understand Makayla’s intolerance for violence.

  The referee raises the whistle to his lips, but Jake jumps up and sweeps Axe Man’s feet from under him. Within moments, he has Axe Man on the mat in a vicious chokehold. He pummels Axe Man’s head and face until blood drips onto the mat. The referee stops the fight and announces Jake the winner by brute force.

  Jake descends triumphant from the cage, high-fiving the Redemption fighters clustered around the base of the stairs, but his gaze is firmly fixed on me. A sheen of sweat covers his broad chest and his hard abs ripple with movement as he stalks across the mats toward me. Confident. Sure. Predatory.

  So beautiful. Inside and out.

  Swallowing my anxiety, I smile when he finally reaches my corner. “Great fight.”

  “What are you doing here?” His abrupt tone and his level gaze make me tremble, but I hold my ground.

  “I came to see you fight and…maybe talk about the other night.”

  He shrugs. “Not much to talk about. You made it pretty clear backstage at the concert that you don’t need me in your life.”

  Frowning, I glance quickly around to ensure we’re alone. “I didn’t need to see you getting beat up by eight security guards in a tiny room, then getting arrested and destroying your fight career. That’s what I didn’t need.”

  “You didn’t trust me.” He grasps my chin and tilts my head back. “I had no plans to start a brawl. I just wanted to send a message.”

  With an annoyed grunt, I wrench my head away. “And you didn’t trust me to be able to deal with a guy like him on my own. You think I haven’t had my ass squeezed before? Or dealt with inflated egos and potty mouths? If you and Fuzzy hadn’t shown up, Shilla the Killa and I would have had them groaning on the floor.”

  He lifts an eyebrow and a smile ghosts his lips. “I can imagine.”

  My gaze drops, skimming over the contours of his pecs, and then follows the dusky trail of hair to the waistband of his orange fight shorts. Black dragons curl down the sides, breathing a fire as dark as my despair.

  “Look at me.”

  Without thinking, I snap my gaze back to his. Exhaustion lines his face but his eyes gleam fever bright and the raw hunger in their blue depths makes my nipples harden.

  “I get your issue with what happened backstage,” he says softly. “But you need to understand mine. You caught me at a moment when I was feeling particularly possessive about your ass, and when I saw that bastard’s hand on you, I snapped.”

  “I do understand. That’s why I came here tonight. To say I’m sorry. I care about you. I didn’t want to see you get hurt. But I should have let you do what you do best. I like that you’re protective. If things had gotten ugly, there’s no one else I would have wanted in my corner.”

  Jake steps forward. Instinctively I step back. Although I know he would never hurt me, he is intimidating just the same, and with blood splatters on his chest, his body still vibrating from the adrenaline of the fight, I react as anyone would react when faced with a predator. Heart pounding, pulse racing, I retreat.

  When my back hits the wall, Jake leans one forearm beside my head and touches his forehead to mine. “Say it again.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  His lips quiver with a repressed smile. “That was a good part, but there was a part I liked better.”

  “I care about you.”

  “You care about me.” His lips brush over my ear, soft as butterfly wings, and he drops one hand to my hip, pulling me close. “You want me.”

  “More than anything.” Tentative at first, and then with firm pressure, I press my hands against his chest, drinking in the feeling of smooth skin over rock hard muscle. His scent of soap and sweat and the essence of male surrounds me, overwhelms me, and I bite back a moan.

  “Christ.” He draws in a deep breath and pulls away. “Go home, Amanda.”

  Chapter 13

  TIGER. TIGER. TIGER

  My breath catches and my blood chills. “You want me to go home?”

  “I want to fuck you.” His jaw tightens and he licks his lips. “I want to push you onto the mat, rip off your clothes, and bury myself so deep you can’t tell where I end and where you begin. I want to lick your pussy until you scream, flip you over, take you hard, and make you scream again. But that’s not going to happen. You’re going to go home and climb into your frilly little bed and dream your sweet little dreams. I’m going to step into the cage with Carnage and take out my frustration on him.”

  My lower half turns liquid, and I slide my hands around his neck, pulling him down to my lips. “What if I don’t go?”

  He nips my bottom lip, sending a blade of heat straight to my core. “You have to go, baby. I won’t be able to control myself. I’ve wanted you so bad for so long, and after I’ve been in the cage, I can’t think straight. Even now…” He gives a guttural groan and his fist clenches on my hip.

  Primitive. Primal. His need speaks to me. I tighten my grip on his neck and rock up to kiss him, gliding my tongue over the seam of his lips before he has a chance to protest. He allows me only that brief moment of control before he takes over. His kiss is hard and demanding. Cupping my jaw, he thrusts his tongue deep, leaving me in no doubt of his possession.

  “Mine.” His voice is raw, savage, and for the first time, I truly believe he may lose control.

  A whistle blast startles us back to reality. The fights are over and it’s time for clean up and take down. Jake wrenches himself away and without a backward glance, stalks over to the cage. I take a few deep breaths to calm my pounding heart and then I join Rampage putting away the chairs.

  “All sorted then,” he murmurs.

  “Shut up, Rampage. And by the way, gloating is not a good look on you.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, I manage to keep my distance from Jake by helping clean up the fight zone. Rampage ushers everyone out and then gives me a wink and a wave as he closes the door. Heart pounding, I head back to the cage where Jake is disinfecting the mat. At first I wonder if he’s seen me, but then he looks up and his eyes blaze like coals in the night.

  “Have you ever been in an MMA cage?” He returns to his work, scrubbing the mat with an unsettling vigor. But something in his voice catches me off guard. An edge that makes my senses tingle.

  “Um…no.”

  “Come a
nd check it out. You’ll have to make a decision sooner or later about whether you want to fight in the cage. Might as well get a taste for it when it’s not being used.”

  My pulse kicks up a notch when he glances up at me, and I catch a wild, almost feral gleam in his eyes. His lithe body burns with energy. His muscles twitch. Violence simmers beneath his skin. Danger whispers around him.

  “I’m good. I’ll just wait here.”

  He studies me for the longest moment and then his voice drops to a low rumble. “Come here, baby. I won’t bite.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles. The familiar gesture eases the tightness in my chest. Taking a deep breath, I walk up the steps to the cage.

  Bang. Bang. Bang. My heart thuds a warning against my ribs.

  As if he can sense my anxiety, Jake continues to wipe down the already clean mat, his back to me, tight ass perfectly outlined in orange and black satin.

  Tiger. Tiger. Tiger. Instinct joins my heart in warning. My skin prickles and I am almost overcome with the urge to flee.

  But I am the master of myself. Always in control.

  Stiffening my spine, I open the cage door. Jake’s head whips around. A shudder runs through his body. He drops the cloth and sits back on his haunches, watching, assessing.

  Tiger. Tiger. Tiger. I freeze midstep and my breath catches in my throat.

  “Come.” His voice is soft, coaxing. “It’s just a fight cage.”

  Instinct and my rational mind war over what to do. My muscles lock. I force myself to step into the cage. Sweat beads my brow. I wipe it off. Blood pounds through my veins. I release the door and it clangs behind me. Adrenaline surges through my body. My mouth goes dry.

  Jake stands and prowls to the opposite side of the cage. His feet pad softly across the mat as he hunts for traces of blood. My breath comes in short pants as he stalks closer and closer to my safe little space beside the cage door.

  Tiger. Tiger. Tiger. I reach blindly behind me for the latch.

  “What’s wrong?” Jake’s hand slides over mine and he tugs my fingers off the latch. “You afraid of the cage?”

  “You.” I swallow hard and force the words through the pounding in my chest. “In the cage, you weren’t in control.”

  “I’m always in control.” His hands slide through my hair, cupping my head, pulling me toward him, and the adrenaline rush of fear becomes tinged by lust.

  “You…you…aren’t in control now.”

  He brushes his lips over my ear and whispers, “If I wasn’t in control, you would be naked, on all fours, in the middle of the cage, and I’d be fucking you so hard you wouldn’t remember your name.”

  My heart slams into overdrive and a heat flush sweeps through my body, searing my skin. I grasp for a way out, knowing even as I say the words that I’ve made a poor choice. “It’s a good thing then that we’re just friends.”

  Jake growls low in his chest. With two steps, he backs me up to the edge of the mat and then slams his hand against the fence beside my head, sending a chill through my veins. “I told you before, I don’t want to be your friend.”

  “Okay.” Definitely not in control.

  Drawing in a ragged breath, I try to slide away, but his hand curls around my neck and tightens, holding me still. “I want to be your everything.” His breath is soft on my cheek. “I want all of you, baby. When I make you mine, really mine, there will be no part of you my lips, my hands, and my cock won’t touch, no desire you have that I will not fill. And when I fuck you, there will be no fear, no hesitation, and no regrets. My cock will be so deep inside you that you will know nothing but me. You will be mine; I will be yours and it will be so right we’ll feel it in here.” He thumps his chest over his heart and something inside me snaps.

  So much longing. So much wanting. Fear. Confusion. Frustration. And anger. “Then do it.” I shove at his chest with two hands. “I’ve made it clear that I want you. I’ve given you all I can give. But still you just tease me and run away. Close but not too close—is that the game?”

  Far from making him back down, my anger is fuel to his fire. He grabs my wrists and slams them against the fence over my head. The impact jolts my body, but I feel no pain, only an overwhelming physical and emotional need to slake my lust.

  “Do you think it’s been easy?” He presses his body against me. “Do you think I didn’t want you every minute of every day since I saw you again? But I am NOT fucking this up like I fucked up everything else in my life. I want this to be the one thing that goes right. We were good in bed together, baby, but you never let me close. This time I want to know you inside and out, and I want you to know me, so when we are finally together, it is something more than just a good time. It’s something we both know will last. So yes, when I feel like I’m going to lose control, I back away.”

  “I do know you.” I shiver in his grasp. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day we broke up. You’re generous and thoughtful. Not many people would sacrifice the way you have to help your family. You’re an amazing teacher. You can get people to do things they never thought they could do. You’re a skilled carpenter and a gifted fighter. I love those things about you. What more do you want?” I struggle against his grip, writhing between the fence and the hard press of his body.

  “I want you to want me until you ache.” He groans, but still doesn’t release me. “I want you to need me with every breath in your body. I want to turn around and know I will always see you in my corner. I want you to want me the way I want you. Body, heart, and soul.”

  He wants me.

  He wants me.

  Fuzzed with lust, my brain barely takes in more than those three words. My body aches with need. If he would only step back so I couldn’t feel his hard chest against my breasts, inhale his scent of sex and sweat, or hear the deep tremor of his voice that betrays his arousal. Desire wouldn’t be curled around my lungs so tight I have to fight to breathe.

  “I want you,” I whisper. I will do anything, say anything, to get him inside me to have the one thing I understand, the intimacy that tells me his words are real.

  With a groan, I move against him, pressing and rubbing, grinding my hips against his. He may be holding my hands but I still have power, and if I’ve learned one thing over the years, it’s how to use it.

  “Stop, Amanda.” He groans. “Fuck, baby. Don’t… I want you so bad. I won’t be able to... Stop.”

  But I can’t stop. I am helpless to stop. I need him too much, and I let him know it with every twist of my body, every whimper from my lips. This is how I speak. This is how I communicate the torrent of emotion inside me.

  His hand tightens painfully around my wrists. He leans closer, so close I can feel every wire of the fence against my body. I can breathe every breath with him. My skin is his skin. My heart is his heart. My head falls back and I moan and grind against him.

  “Fuck.” And then he screams it, “Fuck.” Still holding my wrists with one hand, he tears open my shirt with one swift, brutal jerk. Buttons patter across the mat in a hailstorm of plastic tears.

  I have unleashed the tiger.

  With a low growl, he rips open the front closure of my bra. My breasts spill into his palm. There is no gentleness in his touch, no soft caresses. Rough, calloused fingers squeeze soft flesh, pinch and tweak taut nipples. Teeth nip, lips suck, skin bruises. But all his rough ministrations do is inflame me even more until my body is wound so tight, one touch in the right place will set me free.

  “Christ. I didn’t want it to be like this.” Muttering under his breath, he shoves my skirt up to my waist. “I wanted to wait. I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted past the walls you’ve built up around your heart. But you’re too fucking much to resist. Too damn hot. Too damn sexy. I’ve wanted you so bad for so long. And you pushed me too fucking hard.”

  A yank. Fabric rents. My panties flutter to the grou
nd like a discarded tissue.

  A low carnal snarl escapes his lips and he kicks my legs apart. “Open.”

  I suck in a sharp breath at his demand and I part my legs as all my dark fantasies come true.

  And then his hand is on his waist, untying his shorts. Silk whispers over his skin. He peels off his bike shorts and then his cup and releases one of my hands.

  “There’s something you need to know.”

  Before my frantic mind can conjure up all manner of terrible things a woman might need to know two seconds before having sex with the object of her deepest desires, he guides my hand down to his cock and wraps it around the base. Almost giddy with lust, I hold him tight, luxuriating in the feel of him, hot, heavy, and throbbing in my hand.

  “Keep going.”

  I stroke up. Silky smooth skin ripples over a core of steel, the sensation mouthwateringly erotic. But when I reach the tip I stop.

  Steel.

  For real.

  My hand jerks away so hard it flies back and hits the fence.

  Jake grasps my hand and forces it back down. He wraps my fingers around the tip of his erection and I run my fingers over a round knob at the top and another at the bottom. Finally, I look down so my mind can process what my fingers feel.

  “Oh God, Jake. You’re pierced right through.”

  “It’s an apadravya piercing and if you keep touching me like that I won’t be able to hold on. You got any condoms?”

  “My purse.” I point to my black leather handbag, discarded not so long ago beside the cage door.

  He pulls away, leaving me bereft, but only for a moment. Within a minute he returns, sheathed, his cock jutting toward me from its golden nest of curls. Then he slams me back against the cage.

  “This is not how I wanted you to find out.” His deep voice rumbles through me. “I wanted it slow. I wanted it easy. But fuck, baby, you’ve wound me up so tight, I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’re gonna forget where you start and where I end.”

  Hand shaking, I trace a finger along his throbbing shaft, hot despite the latex. “Does it hurt?” I whisper. “When you’re hard?”