Got A Hold On You (Ringside Romance)

by Pat White

  This was more fun than she’d imagined. It had to be the power, she thought, as she slid her hands lower, edging her fingers beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Her hands met with bare flesh, and she suddenly wanted something she couldn’t name. She grasped his firm butt and gave it a squeeze, then trailed feather-light kisses across his abdomen. God, he tasted sinful.

  And delicious.

  “What’s your real name?” he rasped.

  “Shhh.” A few more minutes and she’d have him. She’d make her way down his body, past his muscular thighs and injured knee, down to bind his ankles.

  But first she’d squeeze him tight between her legs and press a gentle kiss to his lips. She leaned forward and felt him shift to press his manhood against her. Her heart leapt in her throat. He wanted her. This magnificent specimen of a male wanted Frankie McGee. Or was it Tatianna he wanted?

  With desperate fingers she squeezed his pectoral muscles and pushed against him with her hips. A moan rumbled against his throat and she responded by kissing him. A long, needy kiss that nearly made her forget why she’d come here in the first place.

  He pulled on his bindings as if wanting to free himself, then suddenly went still. She broke the kiss and glanced at him. His chest heaved as he struggled for breath. His mouth was still partially open. She leaned forward again.

  “No,” he said, as if he sensed her closing in for another kiss.

  “No, what?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Sure you can.” She ran her index finger across his lips and tried to ease it inside. Man, what was happening to her?

  “Please...stop.”

  His plea pierced her heart dead center. He didn’t want to do this. If he didn’t want to make love to the Tantalizing Tatianna he sure as hell wouldn’t want to make love to Frankie the Fussbudget.

  She wanted him to want Tatianna, or Frankie. Hell, she wanted him to want all of her.

  No, she didn’t. This was a game, a trick to knock him down a peg or two.

  “Tatianna?”

  She climbed off of him and collected her things, shoving her spare scarf into the bag. She slipped on her shoes, choking back humiliation and unfulfilled desire.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Why?” The word slipped out. She clutched the leather purse against her chest.

  “Don’t get me wrong—you’re a nice girl.”

  “Sure, all nice girls tie you up and jump you.”

  “Don’t take it personally. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “Great. So it’s another woman, then?”

  “No—Yes—I don’t know. I shouldn’t have asked you up here. It was a mistake.”

  “That makes me feel so much better.” She stumbled toward the door.

  The bedpost squeaked as he struggled to pull free of the restraints. “Listen, wait, it’s my fault, okay? I’m sorry. I’m messed up right now. You’re a nice kid. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  Kid. He called her a kid.

  “Tatianna?”

  Standing in the doorway, she studied his glorious body illuminated by a shaft of moonlight. Something hot and cold unfurled in her belly, a kind of wanting she’d only read about in books. A kind of wanting that drove a person crazy, out of her mind.

  A kind of wanting she didn’t welcome in her well-ordered life.

  “Tatianna?” He strained against the headboard as if trying to hear if she was still in the room.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m really sorry.”

  He didn’t ask her to untie him and she didn’t dare offer. She knew he’d chase her down and demand they talk this out. The man pitied her.

  How pathetic.

  “Come on, sweetheart, talk to me,” he whispered into the darkness.

  She spun on her heel and fled, snatching her raincoat off the living room floor. Escaping the condo, she paused at the landing, kicked off her shoes and raced down the stairs.

  Only when she was safely behind the wheel of the car heading for her temporary home at the Residence Inn did she let tonight’s disaster sink in.

  She’d been crazed with lust, offering her body to a man in the most visceral way. And he’d turned her down. Flat.

  Thank God. Her cheeks flushed at the memory of what she’d done and how far the game had spun out of control. She’d only meant to put him in his place. Instead she’d been driven by a sexual appetite she didn’t know she had, only to be humiliated. He rejected her, found her undesirable, which should make her ecstatic. Now she could get back to her normal life and focus on her future with Bradley.

  That is if she could wipe the image of a half-naked Black Jack Hudson from her mind and the taste of him from her lips.

  ***

  “Take it easy, man. You’re gonna kill yourself,” warned Jack’s trainer, Mick Edwards.

  “Twenty more,” Jack demanded from his prone position on the bench press.

  “You’re overdoing it.”

  Jack glared at him. Mick shook his head and slid a twenty-pound weight onto each side of the barbell.

  Jack wrapped his gloved hands two feet apart on the metal and gritted his teeth. One. Two. Three.

  By rep ten he was groaning like a branded cow. He was into serious pain today and couldn’t trust himself around the guys. They didn’t deserve the punishment. He did.

  For being stupid. For being insensitive. For being a complete jerk.

  What the hell is the matter with you? The girl knew why she’d been summoned and was more than willing to fulfill her part of the bargain.

  But somewhere between the limousine warfare with the Franken Niece and the midnight rendezvous with Cat Woman, Jack had grown an overwhelming conscience.

  Sure, he’d worked hard to develop a reputation for being a hard-ass, a womanizer, a loner. A reputation he used to shield himself from women like his ex-wife. He wouldn’t let a seductive and manipulative woman worm her way into his life again. The best way to protect himself was to make it known that if any female came too close he’d unleash a burning passion that would leave her smoldering. There was no place in his life for a permanent relationship, not as long as he was with WHAK. Once he cut his ties with the traveling circus he’d reconsider, maybe even find the perfect mate, one who liked to go with the flow, explore new things and embrace the uncertainties of life. Yet he knew most women liked money and needed plenty of attention. Carving out his new life wouldn’t afford him much time for either. Besides, it’s not like he had time for romantic entanglements.

  Romantic entanglement? What the hell was he thinking? He’d sworn off those for good, or at least until he was well into his new life. Fleeting trysts were more his style these days.

  If that were true, why hadn’t he enjoyed himself last night? Let the cat lady have her way with him so he could brag about her sharp fangs and pleasuring tongue?

  His arms shook as he groaned and pushed the barbell up one last time.

  “Free weights,” he demanded, setting the barbell in place.

  Mick brought him the equipment without protest.

  A trickle of sweat beaded down Jack’s chest, reminding him of Tiger Lady’s tantalizing lips. Damn, he hadn’t felt that kind of need since…

  Since earlier that afternoon in the limo with the Franken Niece.

  “Come on, Mick,” he snapped at his trainer.

  No, it couldn’t be. Jack couldn’t be even remotely interested in Sully’s repressed little niece who loved snapping him around like a dog on choke collar.

  He gripped a dumbbell in each hand and started the first set of reps. He struggled to focus on his task. Five. Six. Seven.

  Women. They were master manipulators. He’d been around enough fawning females to learn that lesson, and Sandra had been the final exam. An exam he’d failed miserably.

  Ten. Eleven. Twelve. He gritted his teeth. Okay, so he wasn’t a rocket scientist but he had enough street smarts not to make the same mistake twice. Street smarts that
spelled Frankie McGee’s name I-N-S-A-N-I-T-Y.

  “Uh-oh. Trouble’s coming,” Mick muttered.

  Jack figured Tatianna had arrived, dressed in feathers and fluff, probably wanting to deck him for rejecting her last night. Instead, Sully’s beady eyes stared down at him.

  “What?” Sitting up, Jack placed the dumbbells on the floor.

  “Wanted to check on my best man.” He slapped Jack on the shoulder.

  “Cut the act. What do you want?” He grabbed a towel and wiped sweat from the back of his neck.

  “Oh, nothing, nothing. Needed to fill you in on a couple of things. Minor, very minor.”

  “Which usually means trouble.”

  Sully giggled and tugged on the knot of his tie. “You’ll be happy to know the marriage isn’t valid since you never got a license or blood tests, all that technical stuff. Though you have to admit it’s a great angle.” Sully grinned.

  Jack clenched his jaw and waited, glaring at the promoter.

  Sully cleared his throat. “Yes, well, a car will take you to Sterling Falls today for a signing at the mall. It’s a big week-end there, the annual corn festival. We’ve got a show set up for next week at the Marshall Arena some thirty miles away. Your visit should help sell out the house, only…” Sully chewed at his lower lip.

  Jack stood, towering over Sully by a good six inches “Out with it.”

  “You’re going alone.”

  “Without my wife?”

  “Um, well...”

  “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know.” He went for the knot of his tie again, a sure sign he was lying to Jack’s face.

  “We were supposed to go together,” Jack said, wanting to patch it up with the tigress. Hell, if they were going to pull off this pretend man-and-wife thing for the next six months they needed to have an understanding between them. Besides, she wasn’t so bad, and he felt like a jerk about last night.

  He wanted to make amends.

  “You’re on your own,” Sully said. “I don’t know what happened to Tatianna. She’s sick, yes, that’s it. She called in sick. A virus, bacterial thing, the flu, I mean chicken pox. Very contagious. Couldn’t have her coming to work.”

  “My fans expect me to show up with my wife.”

  “Your wife, right, well—”

  “Cut the crap. Where is she?”

  “At her place I suppose, nursing her head cold, I mean the flu, chicken pox. Anyway, you’re going alone. The car will be waiting for you outside at noon. The signing’s at three.” Sully backed away.

  “Freeze,” Jack ordered. “What’s really going on?”

  He shot Jack an ear-to-ear smile. “Nothing, everything’s fine. It will be a great signing.”

  “Ya’ know, Sully, I’ve got so much on you, I could burn this organization with one phone call.”

  Sully chewed on a thumbnail.

  “What’s the deal with Tatianna?” Jack backed him against the lateral press machine. “See, I’ve got this soft spot for the girl. She stopped by my place last night. We…talked.”

  “Last night? But Frankie said—”

  “Frankie? What the hell does she have to do with this?”

  “Nothing. Nothing at all.” His eyes darted frantically around the gym.

  “Forget it. I’ll find out for myself.”

  Jack stormed to the exit, suddenly needing to go one-on-one with the pushy, drill sergeant niece. She was probably up in Sully’s office right now, perched in his leather chair like royalty. The thought set off an explosion in his gut. The woman hated the business, loathed it with a kind of arrogance that made his blood boil. She wasn’t out there getting the crap kicked out of her or jumping from catwalks.

  What the hell did she say to Tiger Lady, anyway? It must have been quite a number to make the kid back away from her job responsibilities. Then again, maybe it was the number Jack did on Tatianna that was keeping her away. But he’d said he was sorry, words he rarely uttered.

  He took the stairs two at a time, having no patience for the elevator. That tingling sensation pricked the back of his neck: he was being manipulated. Like one of those puppets with strings attached. First pull this one and watch Jack raise his right hand. Then pull those strings and watch him do the jig. Swing the middle ones and watch him spin around like an idiot.

  His chest burning with frustration, he marched down the hallway toward Sully’s office where he spied a partially open door. The sound of a woman’s voice stopped him cold. He hesitated in the hallway.

  “I’m a little surprised, Nipper. I still can’t believe you’re coming to Chicago. … Where? I’ve never heard of it, but that doesn’t mean anything. It’s not like I’ve been getting out much. … No, I didn’t have a chance to check the Markham stock today. It’s been kind of crazy.”

  Jack peered through the door. Frankie sat on the edge of Sully’s desk cradling the phone against her shoulder. She fingered a strand of copper-streaked hair and swung her feet, tapping the desk with a soft, rhythmic thud. She looked like a little girl, sweet and innocent.

  “Longer than I expected, unfortunately,” she said. “That relative I told you about is sicker than I thought.”

  Sick? Sully? The only thing he suffered from was a total lack of morality.

  He flung open the door, banging it against the wall. She glanced up and hopped off the desk.

  “Gotta go, Nipper. Miss you. Bye.” She hung up and straightened her shoulders.

  She wore a gray suit with a pale green blouse, plain, simple, unappealing on any other woman. A complete turn-on for Jack.

  Damn, he wanted her out of his life.

  “A sick relative? My, aren’t you a good liar,” he said.

  “Excuse me, but that was a personal phone call. You had no business eavesdropping.” Stepping behind the desk, she shuffled a pile of papers.

  “Where’s my wife?” he demanded.

  “Honestly, Mr. Hudson, you sound like a caveman. Besides, she’s not really your wife.”

  He studied her as she scribbled something on an official-looking document. Cold and remote, she exemplified a hard ass businesswoman. Completely disinterested in his presence.

  Only…he’d caught a different glimpse of her yesterday in the limo. He’d seen the vulnerable, tender side of a girl who worried about her uncle’s welfare.

  “I have work to do, Mr. Hudson,” she said, dismissively.

  So much for her tender side.

  “So do I.” In three steps he was towering over the desk, close enough to see the rainbow colors of her eyes sparkle through her glasses. “I hate being jerked around.”

  “Don’t we all.” She glanced back at her paperwork.

  He slammed a closed fist on the desk and her shoulders jerked.

  “Knock it off, Brutus.” She glared. “I won’t tolerate physical intimidation.”

  “I was trying to get your attention.”

  “There are better ways.”

  “They don’t seem to work on you.”

  “Well, you’ve got it now. What do you want?”

  “Where’s Tatianna?”

  “It’s not working out with her. I’ve decided to replace her with a trained actress.”

  “I like the original Tatianna.”

  “That’s not what I heard.”

  Jack stilled. “What?”

  “I don’t know what you did to her last night, but she’s done with WHAK.”

  “What I did? More like what she did.”

  “Whatever,” she muttered.

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “I don’t care.” The tips of her ears reddened and she scribbled something on a legal pad.

  “I think you do. That’s the problem.”

  “Please leave,” she said, studying the paperwork in front of her as if it held the secrets to the universe.

  She wasn’t going to get rid of him that easily. He came up behind her and whispered against her ear. “You care very much, don’t you?” />
  He felt her stiffen.

  “You’re imagining things,” she said, a little breathless.

  “You mean you don’t want to hear all the juicy details? How she teased me, kissed me... wanted me.” His lips touched her ear. He felt her shudder against him.

  “I am not the least bit interested,” she said, her voice cracking.

  “I don’t believe you.” He gently turned her around and stared into her iridescent eyes. “You care very much because…you’re jealous. Jealous of the things Tiger Lady and I did together.”

  “And you have an overgrown sense of ego. I happen to have a finance—I mean a fiancé.”

  Something drove him forward, riding the wave of insanity right into the center of chaos.

  “Yeah? Well, does your fiancé kiss like this?”

  He gently gripped her shoulders and pressed his mouth to hers wanting to make a statement, mark some territory of his own. She was repressed as hell and probably hadn’t been kissed real good since the last time her investments yielded twelve percent. He also wanted to prove to himself that she wasn’t the reason he’d turned down a crazed night of phenomenal sex with Tiger Lady.

  What he didn’t expect was the wonderful way she fit against him, the softness of her lips, the slight but familiar taste of…

  Peppermint.

  He broke the kiss and stumbled backward. “Who the hell are you?”

  Chapter Nine

  The look of betrayal in Jack’s eyes shamed Frankie to the core.

  “Wait a minute I can explain.” She started toward him.

  “Don’t touch me.” He backed away. “I can’t believe this. I have to be the biggest chump walking the face of the earth.” Running an open palm across his jaw, he strode to the opposite end of the office.

  “You don’t understand,” she said.

  He whipped around and pinned her with a furious glare. “You and Sully must have had a lot of laughs over this one. The big, stupid wrestler gets suckered in by the Jeckyll and Hyde twins. One’s gentle and naive with a wild streak, while the other’s a frigid drill sergeant.”

  “Frigid?” Her heart sank.

  “But your eyes, your height, your scent. They’re different, even your voice seemed…”