“All the broken bones…” His hands clench into fists. “He did that?”
“My leg shattered in the fall. There were two steep flights of concrete stairs. But yes, he did everything else.” I hesitate and then tell him the truth. It’s time he knows everything. “He said if he couldn’t have me, no one else would.”
“Aaaagh,” he roars. “I can’t…” He stands abruptly, pushing me off his lap. “Fuck. I saw him with you. I came to New York, and I saw you together. I thought you were happy. If I’d just crossed the street, this would never have happened.”
“I blamed you for everything.” I sit up, hug myself against the chill. “I blamed you for leaving me, for forcing me to make the wrong choices, for being overprotective and not letting me learn how to tell the good guys from the bad. I blamed you for leaving me emotionally vulnerable. I blamed you for not being there to rescue me. I blamed you for destroying my dreams of love and marriage and destiny bringing us together.”
A low groan erupts from his throat, and he drops his head to one hand. “If I’d known, I would have come. If you’d called me…”
“I couldn’t call you. I hated you. I didn’t understand why you left and especially why it had to be that night. Maybe I wasn’t good enough in bed. Maybe that night wasn’t what you’d expected. Maybe my brother was right and I was the ultimate challenge, and once you had what you wanted, you moved on. Maybe everything you’d said about love was a lie.”
“Fuck. FUCK. FUCK.” He slams his palm against a tree. “Did you not know me at all? Could you ever imagine me turning my back on my sisters if they needed me? Or that you meant any less? How could you think I wouldn’t be there for you?” His voice rises in anger. “You were the world to me.”
“I didn’t believe that anymore.”
“The way I felt about you never changed.”
Aside from the odd scamper in the underbrush and the whisper of wind through the leaves, there is no sound but the rasp of our breaths and the words that still hang in the air between us. I want to say the same thing to him, but I can’t, and he knows it.
“Did he go to jail for what he did?”
“No.” I wrap my arms around my legs and stare at my feet. “He was arrested and charged, but he got out on bail, hired an expensive lawyer, and plea-bargained his way out of jail. He’s got a criminal record now, and he paid a fine and had to do community service and attend anger management courses, and of course no ballet company would hire him after that. I suppose that’s justice. I lost my career, and so did he.”
“That’s not justice.” His face turns fierce and hard. “I swear to you, Shay, that bastard is going to pay for what he did.”
“I didn’t tell you the truth right now because I want you to go after him. I started MMA and trained in security so I could defend myself if he ever showed up at my door. I was scared he would try and find me, and I didn’t want to be a victim ever again. I’m not afraid of him now, but I don’t want him thinking of me. Ever.”
“He won’t be able to think, because he’ll be fucking dead.”
“You’re scaring me.” I push myself up and close the distance between us.
“I’m going to scare him more.”
“No, you’re not.” I press up against him and run my tongue over the seam of his lips. “I don’t want to lose you after I’ve only just found you again, and that’s what will happen if you go looking for him and lose control.”
He groans and opens for me. Lips press against lips. Tongues tangle. His hand slides down to cup my ass, and he grinds his erection against my hips. “I won’t lose control. I know exactly what I want to do to that bastard.”
I know what I want to do to Damian, too. Despite my insistence that I just want to move on, a part of me has always longed for justice. Real justice. I want Damian to suffer as I suffered. Because he didn’t just want to hurt me that night.
He wanted me dead.
“You want to go. Then go.” Damian shoves me through the open door.
I stagger back, my leg so badly bruised by the beating, I can barely stand. I can’t tell anymore if he’s drunk or high or just so angry, he’s lost control, but the things he’s saying make me fear for my life. Wary of the steep staircase behind me, I reach for the railing, but my hand won’t move.
“I’m going. Please just go back inside.”
“Yes, you’re going. But you won’t be going to anyone else. If I can’t have you, no one can.”
He shoves me again, and I am falling, falling, falling. Pain shoots through every part of my body.
And then everything goes black.
22
Zack
Guilt and longing warred in Zack’s chest as he deepened the kiss. Part of him wanted to leave right now and hunt down the man who had hurt her. But the other part understood she was giving him a gift by asking him to come back to her—trust. She trusted that he would respect her wishes and leave her abusive ex alive. And she trusted that he would have the self-control to make that happen.
Going after Damian wasn’t a choice; it was a foregone conclusion. But before he went hunting, he needed to know if he truly had lost control in the ring with Okami. The only way to do that was to go up against a man who could drive him to the edge.
Torment.
Slayer would have to return to the cage for the ultimate fight.
But first, he would have to run the gauntlet of fighters who stood between him and his goal. It wasn’t going to be easy. Although he’d kept up with his training over the years, he hadn’t stepped foot in a ring or cage until Shayla’s underground fight. He had a lot to relearn and not much time to do it. Once Shayla went pro—and he had no doubt she would—her face would be splashed all over the internet. He didn’t know if the bastard was looking for her, but Zack wanted to find him before that happened. Not just so Shayla had the justice he had promised her, but so she could sleep easy at night knowing Damian would never bother her again.
He would do anything for Shayla. She was his Vega, and he wanted to come home.
He didn’t remember moving. He had no idea how he found himself pressed up against her, pinning her to a tree as he covered her mouth and kissed her like it was the first time all over again.
“I want to take all your pain away, all the bad memories, the past you want to forget.” It wasn’t what he’d had in mind when he brought her here. He had intended only to share a moment under the stars after the emotional evening. But after hearing the truth, he wanted to replace her pain with pleasure, connect with her on a deeper level than they had until now.
“I need you, sweetheart.”
“You have me.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed her tongue into his mouth.
She tasted sweet and minty, like the candy Amber had given her before she left, but it wasn’t sweet he wanted tonight. Unsettled by what she’d shared with him, he needed the certainty of control, but he was reluctant to let go with her after she’d shared the violence she’d suffered at Damian’s hands.
“I need you a different way.” He unbuckled his belt and yanked it through the loops. They had played with bondage before, especially as she neared eighteen and Zack had found it almost impossible to hold back when she got her naughty hands on him.
“Why? Are you afraid I’m going to do this?” She slid her hand into his pants. Her fingers brushed the tip of his erection, and he bit back a groan.
“Yes.” But he couldn’t move when her cool hand closed around his cock and she began to stroke. Shayla still knew just how to touch him, how firm to grip, how fast to move, how to use one finger on his balls on the downstroke.
His hand smoothed over her ass and under her skirt. He’d insisted on the skirt when they’d finally rolled out of bed at her place. Mentally congratulating himself on his foresight, he slid her underwear down and off. When he had her back in posi
tion, he kicked her legs apart and slipped a finger into her entrance. She gasped and arched into him without breaking the rhythm of her stroke.
“You’re already wet for me.”
“And you’re ready for me.” She squeezed his shaft tight, and he rocked into her grip. “Maybe we should forget the belt.”
He added a second finger, thrusting and stretching as her wetness slid down his fingers. Her head fell back against the tree, and he took advantage of her bared throat to feather kisses up the column of her neck. He felt the vibration of her groan against his lips, and her stroke faltered.
Walking the line between pleasure and pain, he added a third finger and pulsed inside her. She was panting now, riding his hand, her grip stuttering over his cock. When he felt her tissues swell around his fingers, he angled the tips to press against her G-spot and rubbed his thumb gently over her clit.
“Oh God. Zack!” She came with a cry, her pussy pulsing around him. The scent of her arousal made him painfully hard, but it wasn’t her hand he wanted.
When she started to come down, he withdrew his fingers and swept her up in his arms. Placing her gently on the blanket, he straddled her hips. “Hands over your head.”
Without hesitation, she raised her hands, her back arching as he bound them above her with his belt.
“Close your eyes. Don’t open them until I say.”
A shiver ran through her body, but she did as he asked, and he took a moment to drink her in, from the light, filmy blouse that teased a man’s senses to the short, dark skirt that had ridden up her thighs, baring the swollen lips of her cunt.
He kissed lightly down her throat to the vee of her shirt. She thrust up her breasts, offering them for his nuzzling pleasure.
“Who’s in charge here?” he murmured.
“I’m not sure. Not much is happening.”
“A lot is happening.” He unbuttoned her shirt and shoved her bra up over her breasts. “This is happening.” He drew a rosy nipple between his teeth and licked and sucked until it peaked.
She drew in a sharp breath, and he turned his attention to her other nipple, one hand gently squeezing her soft breast. “And this.”
Her cheeks flushed with pleasure, and he pushed her skirt up to her waist. Although the windy trail below would give them fair warning if anyone came this way, he didn’t want to take the risk of leaving her exposed.
Moonlight glinted off the scars on her legs, and he fought back a wave of nausea at the thought of how she’d suffered, how hard she must have worked to get to where she was now.
“You are so fucking strong.” Without thinking, he leaned down and kissed one of the scars.
“Zack. No.”
He could hear the pain in her voice, but he couldn’t stop. He hadn’t been there for her when she needed him, but he would spend the rest of his life trying to take her pain away. Gently, he kissed his way along the length of the worst scar and then down along the next. Her legs trembled, and when he looked up, he saw tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.
“They’re hideous,” she said. “For the longest time, I wore leggings under my fight shorts. But then one day, I decided I wasn’t going to let him affect me that way. I’d passed all my security guard training. I was licensed to use a gun. I was feeling confident about my fight skills. Why should I be embarrassed about my scars? Most of the Redemption fighters knew my story about falling down the stairs. So one day, I took off the leggings and let them see.”
“That took courage.” But then his Shayla had always been brave.
“I was worried for nothing. The fighters at Redemption are like family. They knew it was the one thing I wasn’t ready to laugh about.”
His fist clenched involuntarily on the blanket, and his mouth watered in anticipation of the moment when he had her tormentor at his feet.
When he’d kissed every inch of every scar, he worked his way up the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, breathing in the scent of her arousal.
“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart. Show me your pretty pussy.”
“You’re dirty talking makes me hot,” she said, her voice thick with desire.
“Because you’re a dirty girl.” He pushed her legs apart and positioned himself between her thighs. “A very dirty, very naughty girl. I think we need to get you clean.” He settled himself between her thighs and licked up through her folds and right over her clit. She sucked in a sharp breath, and her legs tightened against his shoulders. Still sensitive from before. Just how he liked her.
Gently, he spread her labia, exposing her clit, and sucked it into his mouth. She cried out, her body jerking so hard, he had to put a firm hand over her stomach to hold her in place. He licked up one side of her clit and down the other, over and over until she was trembling all over, ready to come again. All it would take was just one lick.
He pushed back and studied her as he fought to get himself under control. She was all lean, hard muscle, and yet the softness was still there in her breasts, the curve of her hip, and the dip of her stomach. He wanted to lick his way along each of the muscles that had brought her back from the brink, trace every dip and swell with his tongue, taste the salt on her skin from a day of training and the nectar between her thighs after a night of loving.
Shayla gave a grunt of disapproval. “If you want to move along to the fucking part of the evening, I would be on board for that.”
“The fucking part of the evening, as you so delicately put it, is a long way off.” He leaned over and pinched a rosy nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger until it peaked. “You forget I hold the world record in restraint. You can’t imagine what it was like to be with you and not touch you when I had all those teenage hormones raging through my veins.”
“Um…yes, I can, and I’m not waiting anymore.” She wrapped her legs around him in a closed guard position, trapping him between her thighs as she ground her wet pussy against his erection. If he hadn’t been so close to the edge, he would have laughed. He hadn’t considered the down side to becoming intimate with an MMA fighter. Closed guard was used to control larger, more powerful opponents, and if he hadn’t restrained her hands, he might have been in trouble.
“Do you really think that was a good idea?” he warned, sitting up. If they’d been in the ring, she would have been vulnerable to a strike. But there was only one thing she wanted, and when she arched her back and thrust both her knees into his chest, opening her guard, he was powerless not to give it to her.
Ripping open his fly, he freed his cock and positioned himself at her slick entrance.
She licked her lips and grinned, her gaze locked on his shaft. “It appears that was.”
With a groan, Zack grabbed her hips and plunged into her, straight to the hilt. She cried out, and her arms came up as if to touch him, but he was too close. One touch and she would set him off. He lowered his voice to a warning growl. “Hands over your head.”
Her pussy clenched around him, and her reaction made him harden even more. She was so wet. So hot. So fucking tight. Holding her gaze, he started to thrust, burying himself deep inside her. He wanted to stay here forever, connected to her, balanced on the edge of pleasure and pain.
He had planned to love her face to face, with his body covering hers, but holding her like this felt right. She was a fighter and a lover, at once vulnerable and strong. She had opened herself to him, yielded her control, and yet the legs she had wrapped tight around his hips were more than capable of pushing him away.
He widened his knees, braced himself, and slammed into her until her thighs quivered and her pussy tightened around him. But he wanted to draw this out, drive her so high, she could think of nothing but the need to come.
Releasing her hips, he slowed his rhythm, breathing deep between strokes to control his own arousal. With one hand around her hips, holding her in place, he teased her swollen
clit, slicking her wetness up and around but never where she wanted him to go.
“Zack. Please.” She groaned, her body shaking with need.
“Everything I ever felt for you is still there,” he said. “No matter how long it takes for you to come back to me, I’ll be here. I want to ease your pain, Shay.” His voice cracked, broke on her name. He leaned down and kissed her softly as he stroked inside her as if his cock wasn’t painfully hard and he could last all night. “I’ll try to make good everything that bastard did to you. Starting with justice and ending only when you feel safe and whole again.”
“It’s not your responsibility. I forgive you, Zack. The choices I made after you left were my own.”
“It’s what I want.” He couldn’t stand it any longer. He pulled out and then thrust into her again. “You are what I want.”
“Don’t stop. Please.” Her legs dropped from his hips, and she opened for him completely.
Whether it was the permission or the plea, he finally broke. With one hand on each of her knees, he spread her wide and surged forward, pounding into her so hard, the blanket slid across the grass.
“Take me deep, sweetheart.” He had his rhythm now, a fierce hammering accompanied by the percussion of panting breaths that shattered the silence of the night. His brain fuzzed with the pleasure of her slick, wet sheath. He slid his fingers over her clit and rubbed a firm circle, then over the top.
“Come with me.”
Shayla groaned and her pussy clamped around him as she came. Zack followed her over the edge, pleasure shooting down his spine as his cock throbbed and pulsed inside her.
Strong Hold Page 22