by Cora Reilly
“And?” he asked.
I blinked at him, tearing my eyes away from his chest. “And?” I repeated.
“Does it fit?”
How could anything not fit that body?
I realized he meant me. “Oh, the shorts, you mean? They are a bit loose but it should be fine.”
“You look sexy in them,” he said in a low voice.
My face blazed with heat.
“Don’t forget your knife. I want to see you use it.”
I bent over my backpack, glad for my hair hiding my blush, but he’d probably already seen it. I grabbed the knife and straightened. He opened the door and waited for me to go through. His warm scent wafted into my nose as I passed him. I had to get a grip on me. We headed back to the beautiful game room and I continued toward the boxing ring, glad to focus on something else than the dangerous, muscled man behind me.
“Not that way,” Fabiano said, a smirk in his voice. I turned and he pointed at the fighting cage to the right.
“In the cage?” I asked, horrified.
He jumped up on the elevated platform of the cage, grinning like a shark. “Of course. I want to see how you deal with stress.”
“Great,” I muttered. “As if fighting with you weren’t stressful enough.”
He held out a hand to me. I slipped my hand in his, and his fingers closed around me, warm and strong, and he pulled me up. I bumped against his chest and he held me there for a moment. I peered up into his face. The glow of the chandelier above our heads let his hair appear golden.
But a golden boy? No, that’s not what he was.
“I thought we were going to fight,” I whispered.
His lip curled. “Just seeing how much more uncomfortable I can make you,” he said.
I glared. “What makes you think this makes me uncomfortable?”
His smile widened. “So it doesn’t?”
I untangled myself from his hold and pointed at the cage door. “How does this thing open?”
He pressed down the handle, looking way too full of himself.
I stepped inside and goose bumps rose on my skin. I thought I could smell old blood beneath the prominent smell of disinfectant and steel. Fabiano closed the cage with a quiet click.
“I don’t get the appeal,” I said as I looked around the cage. “Why do people enjoy being locked into a cage like animals?”
“It’s the added thrill of not having an escape. The cage is unrelenting.”
I nodded, fumbling with the knife in my hand. The biggest chandelier dangling from the ceiling right above my head appeared more daunting than decorative.
“I want to see you handle it.”
I pressed the button that released the blade. It gleamed in the golden light.
I held the knife out.
Fabiano crooked his fingers invitingly. “Do what you would do to an attacker.”
I held the knife a bit higher, my palm closing tightly around the handle.
Fabiano was stifling a smile, I could tell. For him this was probably more than a little entertaining.
“Attack.”
I took a step forward but he bridged the remaining distance between us and feigned an attack. “Try not to lose your knife.”
I tightened my hold further, even though it seemed hardly possible. But before I knew it, Fabiano was there, in front of me, tall and imposing and muscled, and so at ease with what he was doing. There was a short painful pressure on my wrist, and the knife clattered to the ground. I reached for it but Fabiano was quicker. He twisted the knife in his hand, admiring the blade.
I glared. “It’s not fair. You are much stronger and more experienced.” I rubbed my wrist. I hadn’t even seen what Fabiano had done.
Fabiano shook his head. “Life isn’t fair, Leona. You should know. Your attacker won’t be a one hundred pound female with delicate feelings. He will be a two hundred pound fucker who likes to hurt females with delicate feelings.” And then he towered over me again, all muscle and strength and power, and I wanted to kiss him, not fight him.
“That knife,” he said in a low, threatening voice as he held out the blade between us. “It can be your salvation or your downfall.” He gripped my arm and whirled me around. My back collided with his chest as he pressed me against him. I was frozen with shock. He touched the tip of the blade to the skin between my breasts, then he slowly trailed it down to my stomach. The pressure wasn’t enough to leave a mark but my stomach turned at the thought of how it would feel if it were. “That knife can give your opponent another advantage over you. If you can’t handle the knife, you shouldn’t use it.” He let go of me and I staggered forward, out of his embrace. My heart pounded in my chest as I looked down at myself. I could still feel the touch of the blade on my skin. I closed my eyes, trying to stop my rising panic, and worse, arousal.
Fabiano was right. If my attacker got hold of my knife, he’d use it against me. The knife had given me a sense of security but now even that was gone. I turned around to Fabiano who was watching me intently. He held the knife out to me. I approached him slowly and took it.
“Cut me,” he said.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“Cut me. I want to see if you have what it takes to hurt someone. Cut me.”
I shook my head, taking a step back. “I won’t. This is stupid.”
Fabiano shook his head in obvious annoyance, then snatched the knife from my grip. His eyes held mine as he pressed the blade against his palm and slashed. I staggered back, not from the blood welling up, but from his actions. He dropped the knife to the ground. Blood dripped down on the grey flooring. He squeezed his bleeding hand into a fist, and more blood coated his knuckles.
“I can see that you are scared. Fear is never a good companion in a fight,” Fabiano said, looking completely at ease in the fighting cage. No sign of pain either.
For him this was familiar ground, a place he felt at home in. For me the high cage seemed to tower over me menacingly. Even its luxurious surroundings couldn’t change that. And it wasn’t really helping that I was supposed to fight Fabiano. With his rock-hard stomach, muscled arms and keen eyes he looked already a fighter. And I had seen him fight. There was nothing to compare it to. His speed. His strength. His determination.
I, however, felt out of place.
Fabiano opened his arms, palms outward. My eyes lingered on the gash in his palm he seemed oblivious to. “Hit me. That’s something you can do, right?”
I took a step toward him.
“Curl you hands into fists. Don’t even think about hitting me with your open palm. You’re not swatting at a fly.”
He was making fun of me. I clenched my fists as he’d ordered and took another step toward him. I wasn’t even sure where to hit him. He took a sudden step toward me, startling me, and I backed off.
“Hit me,” he ordered again.
I propelled my fist forward and rammed it into his stomach. A second before the impact I could see his sixpack become an eightpack as he tightened his muscles.
My knuckles collided with his hard stomach and I winced. I pulled back immediately.
“Was that your hardest hit?” he asked.
I frowned. “Yes. Why? Was it that bad?”
His expression gave me an unmistakable answer. “Now kick me as hard as you can and aim as high as possible.”
Hitting had already felt strange but kicking someone was completely out of my comfort zone.
I swung my leg and landed a kick against his ribs. He shook his head. I might as well have batted at him with a feather boa. “That’s no good. I’m not even moving and your aim and force are already bad.”
Had he anything nice to say? I was starting to get annoyed.
He got into a fighting stance and faced away from me. Then he did a high kick against the cage. The crash made me jump and the ground vibrated under my bare feet from the force of Fabiano’s kick. It was still hard to believe how high he could raise his leg and how hard he could kick with
it. My leg would have fallen off if I’d tried to move it that high up.
“Perhaps you don’t have the right incentive. Most women only ever dare to hit hard when they’re cornered. Let’s pretend I’m attacking you.”
The thought thrilled and terrified me at once. I nodded, trying to look like I was ready for this.
His blue eyes slid over my body unabashedly. “Do what you must to escape my grip. Hurt me.”
As if there was the slightest chance that I could. And without a warning he lunged forward, grabbed my shoulders and pressed me up against the cage. Caught up between the cold metal and his warm muscled chest, there was no way I could hit him. I twisted but his hold on me didn’t waver. “Fight, Leona. Imagine I was out to hurt you, out to rape you, out to kill you,” he said in a dark whisper that raised the hairs on my neck.
I tried to push away from the cage again, but there was no way Fabiano was budging. He was as unmovable as the cage.
“You need to do better than that,” he murmured against my ear, then licked a trickle of sweat from my throat. It sent a tingle down my spine. Without warning, he released me and I quickly faced him, hoping he couldn’t see what the gesture had done to my body.
He pushed his hair back, a self-satisfied smile on his face. “Brace yourself. I expect you to do better this time.”
I was on the verge of protesting when he jumped forward. Before I knew what was happening, he’d kicked my legs out under me. I gasped as I fell backward and braced myself for the impact. But it never came. Instead Fabiano’s arm snaked around my waist and he lowered me to the ground. Of course that wasn’t the end of it. He knelt over me and pressed my wrists into the ground over my head. His palm was slippery against my skin – blood. One of his knees wedged between my legs, forcing them apart.
My heart galloped in my chest as I stared up into his face. Was this still a game? He looked so focused and…eager. But then a slow smile spread on his face and breathing became easier. “I hope this wasn’t you really trying,” he said. “An attacker could have his way with you now. It wouldn’t be very difficult to rip your clothes off and force myself on you.”
“You would kill anyone who did,” I said. It was a horrible thing to say. And I didn’t know why I had said it. I didn’t know if Fabiano would go that far.
He lowered himself completely on top of me, and somehow his warm weight felt perfect. “You think?” he murmured. “Why would I do such a thing?”
His eyes immobilized me. I couldn’t say anything for a while.
Suddenly I felt foolishly daring. “Because you don’t like to share me.”
Possessiveness filled his face. He pressed his hips against my crotch, and my eyes shot open wide. He was hard. Heat flooded me. I should have pushed him away but I was too surprised and fascinated.
He bent down and licked my collarbone. “I want nothing more than to fuck you right here in the middle of this cage.”
My muscles tensed up. This was too fast. I still wasn’t sure if I should keep this thing up with Fabiano. And I definitely didn’t want to be fucked in a cage like an animal, even if a tiny part of my body disagreed.
I didn’t get the chance to push him away though because he shoved himself off the ground, and landed on his feet in one graceful move.
I crouched in front of her, taking in the sight of her shock-widened eyes and disheveled locks. She propped herself up on her elbows but made no move to stand up.
Her eyes went to my boxer before she quickly looked away. I knew she’d be blushing if her face weren’t already red from exertion. A thrill went through me, as it always did when her innocence shone through. I straightened and slowly she stumbled to her feet as well.
She was a horrible fighter. It wasn’t in her nature to hurt people. Perhaps I could have pushed her into hitting harder if I’d hurt her. Pain was a strong catalyst, but hurting her wasn’t something I had in mind. I wanted to make her scream but not from agony.
She balled her hands to fists. Her wrists were covered in bloody fingerprints but the gash in my palm was only a dim throb.
“Are we going to try again?”
I smirked. She was trying to escape the situation. I inclined my head, then feigned an attack. She raised her arms protectively and closed her eyes. “Don’t ever close your eyes in front of an enemy.”
She glared at me, and tried to land a hit against my stomach. I sidestepped her futile attempt, and grabbed her from behind. I locked her arms under mine and pressed my hips against her butt. I moved her forward until she was pressed up against the cage and my erection was pressed up against her firm butt. She made a sound of protest. “Fabiano,” she wheezed, anger seeping through. “Stop it.”
“Make me,” I challenged, then lightly bit the crook of her neck and suckled the skin into my mouth. She let out a moan, stilled and began squirming in earnest. When I released her soft skin, I’d left my mark. She tried a backwards kick but only lightly grazed my shin. “You can do better,” I said.
She tried to push back but again had no chance against me. Perhaps it was unfair. Even the best fighters didn’t last long in a fight against me. But what I was doing with Leona didn’t even come close to fighting. Playing was more like it.
Suddenly she became slack under my touch and pressed her butt against my erection. If she thought that would throw me off, she was sorely mistaken. Unlike her, I had more than enough experience and wasn’t unnerved by a butt against my cock. The only bothersome thing was the clothes separating her butt from my cock.
“Playing with fire?” I asked quietly.
“You started it,” she muttered, indignation flashing in her eyes. There was finally some fight in them.
“And I’m willing to play it to the end,” I said suggestively. “Are you?” I dug my erection against her butt once more.
She became still. “No. I’m not.” Her voice was no longer playful or angry. I peered down at the soft freckles of her nose and cheek. Her eyes met mine. She was uneasy and nervous, but not scared. She trusted me to respect her boundaries. Leona might be my undoing. I loosened my hold on her arms, allowing her to turn around. She tilted her head up, searching my face. I wondered when she’d stop looking for something that wasn’t there. I pressed my palms into the cage beside her head, letting my head fall forward until our lips were less than an inch apart. Her eyes darted down, and she surprised me when she rose on her tiptoes and closed the gap. Her kiss was soft and restrained. My body was screaming for something else. I deepened the kiss, then grabbed her butt and lifted her until her legs slung around my waist. Her back pressed up against the cage, I ravished her mouth. She clung to my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin and her heels into my butt. When she pulled back, she was breathless and dazed.
“You’re not good at setting boundaries,” I told her.
She leaned her head back against the cage. “I know,” she said guiltily.
“So that’s what you call fighting?” Nino drawled as he walked in, a sport bag swung over his shoulder. His attentive gaze stopped on Leona. Every muscle in me tensed.
I lowered Leona, then put my hand on her back.
Nino followed the gesture. His expression didn’t change. Unlike Remo, he wasn’t prone to emotional outbursts. It made him harder to read, definitely not less dangerous. Tall, lean, immaculate beard and dark hair pulled into a short ponytail, Nino looked like a runway model. Women fell hard for him until they realized that his emotionless expression wasn’t a mask. Nino didn’t have to hide his emotions. He had none.
“We’re done here,” I said. I nudged Leona toward the cage door, opened it, then climbed out first before I lifted Leona down. She stood close beside me. She was wary of Nino, as she should be. Her instincts couldn’t be completely off if she recognized him as a danger.
I greeted him with a short embrace and a clap on the shoulder. “Who are you training with?”
“Adamo, if he decides to show up.”
I rolled my eyes. “Good luc
k.” His eyes slid behind me to Leona again. And something protective and fierce swelled in my chest. He didn’t say anymore. I doubted he was really interested in her. He was curious because I showed interest in her.
I led Leona toward the changing room, but only grabbed our bags.
“Aren’t we going to change?” she asked.
I shook my head. I wanted to get her away from Nino. It was safer if Remo and his brothers wouldn’t see Leona too often. I led her outside and toward my car. Some of the tension fell off me as we brought some distance between us and Nino. Remo and his brothers were like family to me but I knew better than to trust them with Leona.
Leona gave me a sideways glance. “Who was he?”
“Nino. One of Remo’s brothers.”
“You didn’t like being around him,” she said.
If she’d picked up on it, Nino would have too. That wasn’t good. “I practically grew up with him. He’s like my brother, but I don’t like you around him. It’s better if you don’t get involved in that part of my life.”
“Okay,” she said simply.
When we arrived in front of her home, I turned toward her, wanting to fucking kiss her again. I’d played it cool since our first kiss but I was tired of holding back, especially after what happened in the cage.
“Are you celebrating Christmas with Remo and his brothers?” she asked.
I stiffened. I hadn’t expected that question. “I don’t really celebrate Christmas.” I hadn’t in several years. Not since my sisters left for New York. I didn’t care for the holidays, but now that she’d mentioned it, I realized that Christmas was only a week away.
“Me neither. I will probably work,” she said with a small shrug.
“Won’t you celebrate with your father or your mother?”