Murphy’s lips spread in a smarmy smirk. “She’s not your wife anymore, Falcon. I don’t owe you any answers.”
Nash’s temper broke. He grabbed Murphy and pulled him from the opposite bench, slammed him into the wall, and pinned him there with one hand. “You will give me answers. I’m not leaving until you do. I’ve got nothing to lose, Murphy. Remember that.”
Henry Linn and Frankie Antignani came running over and pulled Nash off the big Irish man. “Whoa, ease up, Falcon,” Frankie said. “First visit back to the gym and you’re damaging the prize fighter? I’d say it’s good to see you, but under the circumstances…”
“Give me ten minutes with him,” Nash snapped. “I’ll keep my hands off. Murphy and I have some things to discuss.”
Frankie and Henry looked from Nash to Murphy. Murphy gave them a nod, indicating it was okay, and they slowly trailed away from the pair of giants.
“I found Fiona working at a place my brother owns,” Nash continued when the other two men were out of earshot. “I want to know why a top Strength Inc. promoter isn’t where she should be.”
The smarmy smirk returned to Murphy’s face. “Fiona made some terrible mistakes.” He wiped sweat from his brow before he continued. “She got greedy. Forced me and her other clients to take steroids. It was my duty to inform Daniel. He had to let her go, and she’s been black balled by all other fighter rep firms.”
Daniel Milligan was the owner of Strength Inc., a fighter representation firm that had employed Fiona. She’d represented Nash when he’d been fighting, and he had heard she’d started repping Murphy and some other fighters just after they divorced. But he knew Fiona would never pressure her clients into taking steroids to gain an unfair advantage. The risks to her clients and her career were just too great. Fiona was too smart for that.
“You sonofabitch,” he said through gritted teeth as he glowered at Murphy. “You set her up, didn’t you? Something happened, and you made Fiona take the fall.”
Peter shrugged. “You’d have to prove that, Falcon.”
Then he got up from the bench and walked away while Frankie and Henry still cast a wary glance in Nash’s direction.
Nash would indeed prove it. He knew things weren’t adding up. Now his suspicions were confirmed. He’d go back to his brother and Fiona armed with this information from Murphy and demand to know more.
***
“Come stay with me tonight,” Eli said as he wrapped his arms around Fiona. “It’s been a while since you slept at my place.”
She let herself relax against his broad chest as she closed her eyes. It was 2 am, and the club was winding down. She had no more clients scheduled tonight, the place would be closed in two hours, and Eli was free now too. She considered his offer as she let her thoughts drift in this peaceful silence.
“Okay.” She turned in his embrace and smiled up at him, caressed his stubbled cheek. “I don’t really want to be alone tonight. I miss waking up in your arms.”
He grinned back and she went to grab her coat while he waited. It had been an exhausting week, what with the showdowns with Nash and the turmoil his presence stirred in her. Not to mention the client whose wife held her at gunpoint. She just wanted to slip beneath Eli’s silk sheets, cuddle up close against him, and sleep off all the stress. Although making love would certainly be on the agenda too, she had no doubt. This would also be great therapy for her troubled mind. She wanted to reinforce her growing bond with him, wanted to reassure Eli that Nash posed no threat to their budding relationship.
He held the door open for her while she slid into the passenger seat of his Chrysler 300. Eli was a gentleman with a gruff side. He knew how to be tender just when she needed it, and she appreciated this.
The ride was short, and she drifted once more as they made their way to Eli’s apartment. He broke her musings when he pulled into his spot in the parkade next to the building and stopped the vehicle.
“Why don’t you move in with me? At least until we settle things with Peter.”
Her throat knotted up and words wouldn’t form. Why should the prospect scare her so much? Eli was a great guy, gorgeous, and he’d been there for her throughout this fiasco with Peter Murphy. He stared at her, frowning in concern when she remained silent as they walked toward the entrance to the apartment.
Fiona stopped him at the base of the stairs. “Eli, I’m just not ready. I care so much for you—”
“But you don’t love me.” His voice was ragged with hurt.
She stood on tiptoe and brushed a quick kiss across his full lips. “I’m falling, but I don’t want to confuse rebound feelings with true ones.” She brushed a strand of hair from his aquamarine eyes. “Please understand?”
He nodded, but still looked disappointed. “I love you, Fiona. I mean that. I’ll wait, and I’m here for you, no matter what.”
She hugged him tight before they walked up the stairs. “Thank you. I’m grateful.”
Inside, she shed her coat and he poured her a sherry while she settled on the plush, oatmeal colored couch. He was just sitting beside her and handing her a drink when the doorbell rang.
Fiona’s stomach tightened up when a commotion filtered from the hall into the living room. She recognized the voice of the person arguing with Eli, who had gone to answer the door after she and he exchanged a curious glance.
“What the hell are you doing here, Nash?” The two men put some distance between them when she entered the hallway. She stood at the end, arms crossed just beneath her breasts, and scowled at her ex. He was getting in the way all too often lately.
“We need to talk.” He pointed a finger at her. “You lied to me.”
Eli pushed the big man back. “She doesn’t owe you anything. You signed divorce papers, remember?”
Nash shove him in return. “I still have a right to give a shit about her.”
“Whoa, guys.” Fiona moved closer, ready to get between them to prevent violence once again if she had to. “Let him in, Eli.” Then she turned to Nash. “You’ve got ten minutes to say what you need to, then I want you out of here. Got it?”
He frowned, but nodded before stalking into the living room.
“Did you follow us here?” Eli demanded from behind Fiona.
“Yeah, I did,” Nash snarled as he sat on the couch.
“Great, now you’re stalking me.” Fiona sighed and sat in a recliner opposite him.
“It’s not stalking,” he snapped. “It’s concern. Why didn’t you tell me Peter Murphy framed you?”
She swallowed hard, exchanged a look with Eli, who stood protectively by her chair. “How do you know about that?”
“Cause I paid a visit to the Strength Inc. gym.” Nash leaned forward and pinned her with his stare. “Had a little chat with Murphy.” Then he glanced at Eli. “Did you know about this? Murphy framing her with a steroid rap?”
Eli nodded. “Yeah, both Thomas and I know. We’ve been helping Fiona to bring the asshole down.”
Nash gave a disgusted scoff and shook his head. “So even you knew before me.” He hung his head and his hair fell in a black curtain around his face. “This is bullshit. Fiona, I want in on this. You have to let me help.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Nash.” She looked away when he pinned her with a glare filled with hurt.
“I want the whole story. How did Murphy set you up?”
Eli moved away from the chair and took a threatening stance. “She said you don’t owe her anything, and Fiona doesn’t owe you a damn thing either.”
Nash glowered at the big man and rose up from his seat. “This is between me and my ex.”
Before they could get nose to nose, Fiona stopped them. “No, it’s not, Nash. Look, I’ll tell you more, but not tonight. I’m exhausted. So is Eli. We’ll talk at work tomorrow.”
“I’m counting on it,” Nash said, then with a glare cast in Eli’s direction, he stomped out of the room and slammed the front door behind him as he left.
***
The next day at the club, Nash caught up with Thomas just before he opened.
“Hey, you’re here early,” Thomas said. “I thought you weren’t a morning person.”
Nash ignored the jibe and sat in the chair opposite his brother’s desk. “I know what you’re hiding for Fiona. I also know you’re helping her.”
Thomas ran a hand down his face then sat. “Fiona told you everything?”
“Not everything. That’s why I’m here. I know Murphy framed her. Convinced the Strength Inc. board that Fiona was talking her fighters into doing steroids. I also know you’re helping her nail the bastard. I want in. So fill in the gaps for me, brother.”
Thomas stared at him in silence a while before he spilled the information. “Murphy wanted Fiona to rig a match for him. A title bout between him and the Beast. He knew Fiona was tight with some of the judges, so he wanted to pay them off to bend the rules. Fiona told him no and he didn’t like it. He planted steroids on her, himself, and some of the other fighters she reps. Blamed it all on Fiona and Strength Inc. fired her, plus they blackballed her with other MMA agencies.”
David “the Beast” Harker had lost the heavyweight championship to Jacques St. Pierre in a controversial and memorable match, where he also announced he and Jacques were lovers, and sleeping with their rep, Bella Rosen. Nash wouldn’t forget that match anytime soon, nor would any MMA personnel who witnessed it. He knew the Beast had been hungry to get that belt back, and he also knew the man was a tough competitor. But Murphy was tough as nails himself, had taken the belt from St. Pierre in a brutal match, so why wouldn’t he want to win the fight on his own merit? Why did he need to stack the odds in his favor?
“I don’t get it,” Nash said. “Murphy’s got the skills to win the championship on his own. Why rig the event?”
“Cause Murphy’s got gambling debts coming out his ears,” Thomas told him. “Fiona was hiding his little problem. He didn’t want the match rigged so he’d keep the title. He wanted a guarantee that the Beast would win. Since the odds were in Murphy’s favor, he wanted to bet against himself. Bigger payoff.”
“This shit just gets thicker.” Nash rubbed his stubbled chin. “I know you’re helping her bring him down. I want in.”
Thomas sighed. “That’s up to Fiona, brother. I can’t make that call.”
“I’ll talk to her tomorrow night. One way or another, I will be a part of this.”
***
Eli threw his shirt in the hamper and then turned to Fiona as she climbed into bed. “You really going to let Nash help us with Murphy?”
“He’s still got contacts inside Strength Inc.” She touched his arm when he sat on the mattress. “That could be useful.”
Eli frowned. “He’s doing this to get back with you.”
Fiona stroked his hair from his shoulder. “I’m with you, Eli. Nash is my past.”
“For now.”
Sliding across the sheets, she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged. “Sounds like someone could use some reassuring.”
He chuckled. “I’ll never turn you down, darling.”
“Good.” She kissed behind his ear. “I get to be the top tonight.”
Fiona left the bed and went to the walk-in closet. Inside, they kept some of their BDSM toys on a few shelves. From one, she selected a coil of hemp rope. Red, because it was Eli’s favorite color.
Over their brief time together, he’d taught her so much, fulfilled many of her sexual fantasies. He’d been willing to do things with her she’d never felt comfortable discussing with Nash. It wasn’t that Nash was a bad lover. No, their sex life had been carnal and satisfying, but at times he could be selfish, wanting all the pleasure to be on his terms. Like with the threesome proposition they’d fought over. Nash was fine with two girls one guy, he was the one who brought it up, but wouldn’t entertain two guys one girl. That, his cheating, and the fact he often brushed her off when she tried to bring up her needs had killed their relationship.
She should love Eli. He’d given her so much. And Fiona decided in that moment that she was ready to love him. Rebound be damned, these were true feelings. Nash was indeed a part of her past.
Eli gave her his back and placed his wrists behind him, one on top of the other. Fiona kissed across his shoulders, caressed the tense muscles there and lower. She grazed the hemp rope across his skin as she did so. His breathing grew labored and he began to relax.
She looped the vibrant red rope around his thick wrists, creating an intricate pattern that she secured with figure eight knots. A strong link that would be hard for him to undo. He’d taught her how to tie many different kinds, from a bowline to a sheepshank, going over why one knot was better for this situation and that. With Eli, her sexual world, as well as spiritual, had opened up, for BDSM was also a culture close to the more esoteric side of her being.
Once his wrists were firmly secured, she told him to lie back on the pillows. He did as she bade, watching her the whole time. After another trip to the walk-in closet, she applied a fragrant warming oil to his well developed pecs, massaging it into the tight muscles. She stopped to flick her tongue over his nipples and bite the taut tips. He growled and thrashed in his bonds, and she knew not being able to touch her drove him mad. But it was this denial that would also accentuate his pleasure.
Her hands moved lower, rubbing the oil into the flat plane of his stomach. At his groin, she teased him, kneading the muscles along his inner thighs, flitting her fingers over his pubis bone, but avoiding his thick erection. When he snarled again, she licked pre-cum from his glans, blew on the head, but then pulled her mouth away when he bucked his hips up, begging entry. She laughed at his grumbling.
He groaned when she cupped his balls and began stroking them. His eyes fluttered closed and his lips parted as she played with his perineum, pinching and tugging it. Fingers explored his anus and he lifted up to give her better access.
“Please,” he moaned, and she knew what he wanted.
This time, she relented. Her mouth wrapped around the head of his hard, long cock and she laved her tongue beneath the ridge. He drove his penis deeper, bumping the back of her throat, and she swallowed then sucked him harder. He whimpered and began slowly fucking her face. All the while, she kept working his scrotum, alternating between sharp pinches and gentle caresses. Her fingers would explore his asshole too, making his grunt and groan from the assault of bliss.
Up and down, up and down her mouth went. She swirled her tongue over his steely shaft as she descended and ascended. His breathing grew more ragged and he thrashed against the ropes as he thrust between her lips.
“Untie me,” he commanded. “I need to touch you. I have to fuck you.”
She pulled her mouth from him and met his eyes. “I’m in charge. Remember?”
His brow wrinkled from frustration. “Please, mistress. Please let me touch you, be inside of you.”
She reached up and stroked his face. “That’s better. Sit up.”
He did as he was told and she worked fast to loosen his bonds. Her lover threw the rope to the floor and seized her arms, then he claimed her lips in a feral kiss as he pushed her to the bed and straddled her.
He nudged her legs apart and buried his cock deep inside her. His eyes fluttered closed and he let out a pleased sigh as he rocked his hips back and forth, back and forth. She splayed her palms over his taut ass and guided him, losing herself in the sublime pleasure he had to give. With one hand, he reached between them to stroke her clit as he pumped in and out of her pussy. Their eyes locked and they watched one another as they enjoyed each other’s bodies.
It wasn’t long before ecstasy exploded within her core and she gasped as the orgasm shuddered through her, gripping his ass even harder as her vagina clenched tight around his shaft and milked him until he, too, trembled and came hard.
***
“You promised we’d talk.” Nash held out a motorcycle helmet.
Fiona regretted answering the door
. “I have clients. I can’t leave now.”
“I just checked the appointment book. You’re free for the next three hours. Let’s go for a ride.”
He had her there. She didn’t have another client scheduled until after 4 pm. With a sigh, she took the helmet and followed him down the staircase. The club crowd emitted a dull murmur as they headed through the people. It wasn’t too packed yet. The place didn’t really fill up until after 9 pm.
Fiona looked around, hoping to spot Eli in the mix, but he was nowhere to be seen. And she had promised Nash they’d talk. So her only option was to go with him.
She followed him outside, zipped up her jacket against the chill, and then got on the bike behind him. It had been a long time since she’d gone riding with him. As he started the bike and they took off, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed into his broad back. It felt too good. The smell of leather. The solid, reassuring feeling of holding him. The wind on her face, tangling her hair, as they raced through the afternoon traffic. It played havoc with her senses, and once more her emotions were at war. When their marriage had been happy, she’d always loved riding with Nash.
As if to further torment her, he took them to Hastings Park, the place where they’d had their first date. Her heart ached and filled with nostalgic joy all at once. That afternoon, they’d fed the ducks and talked about what they wanted out of life. Everything had seemed possible in that moment. They had their whole lives ahead of them to explore together, get to know one another, and enjoy experiences shared.
She thought about the turmoil that followed. The many fights. The times she’d caught him in bed with other women. All the joy plummeted and soured in her stomach.
As if sensing her thoughts, he turned to her after they sat on a bench under a pine tree. “It wasn’t all bad, was it?”
She smiled sadly. “No, there were good times.” And she went over those good memories as she stared at his face. There were lines around his eyes now that weren’t there before, and wrinkles at the corner of his mouth, as if one too many grim frowns had taken their toll.
“I’ve never been the same since you left,” he whispered, looking away to glance at the lake that bordered the park. “If I could take it all back, all the shit I put you through, I would. Losing you taught me a lot.”
BDSM Mega Boxed Set Page 96