Fighting Attraction

by Sarah Castille

  “Have you seen Pen?” I draw Cora to the side under Blade Saw’s watchful gaze. I’ve never seen two people dance around each other the way they’ve been doing for the past two weeks.

  “I saw her yesterday. She said she was too busy with work to come to the gym.” She narrows her eyes in what I assume is meant to be an admonishing way but just makes her look cute. I don’t know what the hell is holding Blade Saw back, but if he doesn’t make his move soon, he’s going to miss out. He’s not the only fighter at Redemption who’s noticed Cora.

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Cora gives an exasperated sigh. “She’s not really busy.”

  Puzzled, I frown. “I thought you just said she was.”

  “You’re not paying attention. There’s a big difference between what she says and how she is.”

  “How is she?”

  Her brow creases in a worried frown. “She has a hard time dealing with stress. She gets all strung out like she is now, and then she shuts me out. I worry about her when she gets like this. She won’t answer my calls; she doesn’t come to the gym; sometimes she doesn’t even make it to work. I can always see it coming, but she won’t talk to me about it, so I don’t know how to help.”

  “What happened?” My stomach clenches, and something niggles at the back of my mind, a conversation Penny and I had about her need for pain as an emotional release.

  “I don’t know,” Cora says. “I thought maybe you did. She’s had one bad relationship after another, one guy beating on her after another. I thought, finally, she’s met a guy who’s going to treat her right, who’s not going to hurt her… Maybe she’s found someone she can talk to, someone who can take away her pain.”

  “That’s not me, Cora.”

  “No,” she says softly. “I guess not.”

  * * *

  PENNY

  Cora calls me for the fifth time today as if she knows what I did last night and is determined to ensure it doesn’t happen again.

  “Cora, I’m working.”

  “Well, I’m not. I saw Rampage yesterday at the gym. And I’ve been thinking, since things seem to be a bit rocky with Rampage, you should get some no-strings, no-heartbreak loving, Doctor Death style.”

  “He was flirting with you, not me.”

  Cora makes a tsk-tsk sound into the phone. “You told me Doctor Death would sleep with anything that moves. And he was flirting with you, too. In fact, I don’t think he knows how to talk to a woman without flirting. It’s Friday, and you need to get out tonight. Blade Saw is up for it, and I’m hoping to get him drunk enough that he’ll come home with me and show me some MMA skills in bed.”

  Someone knocks on the door, and I put down the phone. Amanda doesn’t have a problem with me taking the odd personal call because I don’t do it very often.

  “I’m on my way to the Bar Association dinner with Jill and Dana,” Amanda says when I open the door. “I sent Mari home early, and Ray is out on surveillance. You can go whenever you want. Just be sure to lock up for me.”

  “No problem. Have fun tonight.”

  I pick up the phone and lean against my desk, waving to everyone as they leave. “I thought you said you hadn’t dated many guys, so I’m not sure where the dating advice is coming from.”

  Cora laughs. “I wasn’t a nun. But the guys I was with were overexcitable types. All I had to do was smile and they’d be whipping off their pants, ’cause when you’re spending most of your day sitting in front of a computer having virtual sex with aliens, you don’t waste time when you’re offered the real thing.”

  “I couldn’t sleep with Doctor Death, Cora. He’s a friend. He’s so outrageous he makes me laugh. I wouldn’t be able to take it seriously.”

  “Jack was a friend, too. You were getting serious with him.”

  My heart squeezes in my chest. Yeah, I was getting serious, but he shut it down pretty fast. And now that I’ve dealt with the stress and emotional pressure in the usual way, I’m resigned to move on. Story of my life.

  “Not anymore.” Although I have been keeping tabs on him at the gym through mutual friends, to make sure he’s not cutting out of training early to go to the club.

  “Well, he was asking about you,” Cora says. “And this is perfect. If he is on the fence, then seeing you with Doctor Death could tip the balance. And if not, at least you’ll have a good time.”

  “Are you meeting Blade Saw at the gym?”

  “Eight o’clock,” she says. “Right after Fuzzy’s Punch or Perish class that you forced me to join with you. I already asked Doctor Death if he wanted to come out with us, and he said yes. Actually, he thought at first I was inviting him for a threesome with me and Blade Saw, but he got over his disappointment when I told him you were our fourth.”

  I hear the front doorbell tinkle and I head into reception to check out the visitor. “Okay, I’ll…”

  “You’ll what?” Cora says.

  “I’ll call you back. Jack is here.”

  She sucks in a sharp breath. “I’ll see you at class tonight. I can hardly wait to hear all about it.”

  I end the call and swallow past the lump in my throat. It’s only been three days, and yet it feels like I haven’t seen Jack in forever. He’s wearing a white T-shirt that clings to his taut, muscle-ridged abdomen, and worn jeans that ride low on his narrow hips.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He pins me with a direct stare, his eyes fierce and hard. I feel like he’s trying to see into my soul, but my heart is pounding so hard I’m not sure enough oxygen is getting to my brain to make any sense of what’s going on.

  “Jack?”

  His gaze rakes over my body, lingering on my thighs as if he can see beneath my skirt. He tenses, and his eyes narrow. If I didn’t know X-ray vision was impossible, I would swear he knows I broke my promise.

  “Are you alone?”

  “Yes.” My pulse kicks up a notch. “Everyone’s out for the rest of the afternoon and I was about to close up and go.”

  He takes a step toward me, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.

  “Lock the door.”

  A thrill of fear shoots through me, and sweat beads on my forehead. What if he knows? Or suspects? What will he do?

  “Now.” His deep, commanding Dom voice ripples through me, fanning the flames of my desire. Do I trust Jack enough to lock myself in the office with him, especially when I know what is coming? Do I trust myself?

  I brush past him and lock the front door.

  “Your office,” he snaps after I return. “Now.”

  I jump at his sharp tone and scramble out of his way as he brushes past me and through my office door, a lithe and powerful animal herding its prey.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Stand in front of the desk.” He gestures to the big oak desk Amanda and I refinished when we first moved into the building.

  Puzzled, I do as he asks, my breath catching in my throat when he closes and locks my office door behind him.

  “Jack?”

  He gives me his back as he draws the curtains at the side of my office. “Don’t move.”

  A sting of disappointment hits me in the chest. Has he come to reject me all over again? Does he want to make sure I understand there is nothing between us? It shouldn’t bother me because I got the message the other night. I’m nothing. Nothing special. Nothing extraordinary. Not worth his time, especially since he’s on the cusp of fame. I’m just his pal. Plain old quirky Pen. But he doesn’t have to be so cold.

  Worthless, no-good piece of shit.

  No. No. No. My fingers tighten on the lip of the desk. I haven’t even started to heal from last night.

  Jack leans against the door across from me, thick arms folded over his massive chest. “Lift your skirt.”

  Shock steals my breat
h away, and all I can do is stare. “What?”

  “You heard me. Lift your skirt. Now.”

  Bang. Bang. Bang. My heart thuds frantically against my ribs. Adrenaline pounds through my veins, and I feel a rush of heat between my legs. He knows. I can see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice…

  “Why?” I whisper, stalling. And why is this turning me on?

  “You know why,” he snaps. “You didn’t keep your promise.”

  I smooth my hands over my cream skirt, silky underneath with a cotton macramé overlay, pressing it tight against my thighs. “It doesn’t matter if I kept it or not. We’re not in the club. There’s nothing between us. You made that clear the other night.”

  “I fucked up the other night.” He shifts his stance. “I’m not good for you, Pen. You need to be with someone normal. A nice guy who’s going to treat you right and doesn’t want to hurt you.”

  My hand fists on my thigh. “I don’t like nice guys. They don’t understand me. They’re too gentle. My life is about pain. Emotional and physical pain. It’s what I know, what I understand, what I need.”

  “So you hurt yourself?”

  “I didn’t—”

  He cuts me off with a scowl. “Don’t lie to me.” He pauses, and his voice takes on a deeper, cutting edge. “Show me.”

  My mouth goes dry at his abrupt command, and I fiddle with the edge of my skirt, at once indignant that he would try to boss me around and aroused that he did.

  “What if I did?” I say defiantly. “There’s nothing you can do about it.”

  His corded throat tightens when he swallows, and he fixes me with a level stare. “I’ll give you what you need.”

  All the air leaves my lungs in a rush, and I feel a disconcerting wetness between my thighs. “You wouldn’t dare. I’m at work.”

  “Try me.”

  Electricity sparks in the air between us, and a curious mix of fear and arousal courses through my veins. Stiffening my spine, I curl my fingers under the edge of my skirt and draw it slowly, painfully slowly up my thighs. Jack stills. His eyes flick down and then back up again. He licks his lips, and his eyes darken.

  I have awakened the beast.

  * * *

  RAMPAGE

  She stares at me. Defiant. Beautiful. But beneath her challenge I can feel her need—a need for pain, a need the sadist in me cannot ignore.

  A man doesn’t hurt a woman. Not where I come from. But when I found BDSM, I learned that there are many people who take pleasure in pain, whether it is to heighten their arousal or to fill an emotional need. Although I have accepted my kink, I still haven’t been able to free myself of the judgment that goes with it. I can’t forget the horror on Avery’s face or the disappointment of my family when I told them it was not something that could be “cured.” I am the antithesis of who I was raised to be, and yet Penny calls to the deepest, darkest side of me and I cannot resist.

  Hand trembling, she tugs her skirt up another inch, baring the soft, creamy skin of her thigh. With her lips pressed tight together, her eyes locked on mine, she is a reflection of the maelstrom of emotions storming through my body—fear and longing, anger and arousal, beauty and the beast.

  I drop my gaze, mouth watering in anticipation of the moment we both know is coming. When I saw the flicker of guilt, I knew she had broken her promise. And when I saw her need, I couldn’t walk away.

  Damn, she is tempting. I lick my lips, remembering her taste, her scent, her sweet arousal, the way she moaned when I touched her. Pink and pretty on the outside, tough and resilient on the inside. She is aroused now, her cheeks flushed, body trembling. Sex and pain. They may never have connected for her before, but they sure as hell have now.

  “Higher.” Awakened by her need, the Dominant in me demands obedience.

  Her cheeks flush and desire heats her eyes as she lifts her skirt. It pleases me. Not just because she accepts my dominance, but because it means I can give her what she needs and she won’t put up a fight.

  One more inch, and I see the edge of a bandage. I narrow my eyes, let her see my disapproval as I unbuckle my belt. My cock throbs painfully against my fly. I am hard. So fucking hard I can barely think straight. I grit my teeth. Force back my arousal. This is about her. My needs will have to wait.

  With one last tug, she bares her thigh, locks her challenging gaze on me. My stomach knots when I see the long white bandage. I did that. I pushed her over the edge. And now I have to fix my mistake. I yank my belt off and double it in my fist.

  “You broke your promise.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” Her trembling hands belie the defiance in her tone.

  “I’m going to hurt you, darlin’, so the next time you think about hurting yourself, you’ll remember to call me first.” I walk up to her, so close I can feel the heat of her body. “I want you facedown over the desk. Lift your skirt, and then reach up and hold on to the edge.”

  Her cheeks flush and she bites her lip, indecision clear on her face. I can almost hear the frantic beat of her heart, but I can sense her arousal, too. Part of me is almost tempted to take her in my arms and soothe her, feel her softness against me, but I closed myself off to those feelings long ago and shifted my focus to the darkness inside me. Her need aligns so perfectly with mine. I want to punish her. I need her pain.

  She stares up at me, an edge of uncertainty in her eyes, but courage too, passion, and desire.

  With a jagged breath, she turns and leans over the desk.

  Ah. Beautiful submission.

  She reaches back and flips up her skirt, baring her lovely ass for me. Her panties are white, lacy, three inches at the top and a string nestled between her plump cheeks. Pure. Innocent. Fitting for her punishment by my hand.

  A hand that shouldn’t be wearing the damn family ring. I slip it off and stuff it in my pocket, feeling at once unburdened and relieved.

  “Hold on.” I position myself behind her, wrap one hand around her neck to hold her still, and kick her legs apart. “Ten strikes with my belt for breaking your promise. Do you agree?”

  “Yes,” she whispers.

  “I want you to count them off. Do you remember your safe word?”

  “I can use a safe word?” She struggles to look back, and I hold her down.

  “You always have a safe word when you’re with me,” I assure her.

  I can feel the tension ease from her body as she lets out a breath. “Can I choose something else since we’re not at the club?”

  “Anything that means something to you, so it’s easy to remember.”

  Her trembling arouses me. Her fear, a balm for my soul.

  “Redemption,” she says. “It’s my…happy place. I know it’s stupid.”

  My stomach churns as guilt drips like acid inside me. She didn’t come to Redemption this week because of me. “It’s not stupid at all. It’s been a special place for me since the day I joined, when it was just the shell of a warehouse with a couple of mats and a few guys who had a dream.”

  A dream that came true for me. A dream that could easily die if anyone discovered my secret.

  I smooth my hand over Penny’s perfect ass and raise my arm to strike. “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  My belt cracks across her ass, and she gasps, her body going rigid beneath my hand. A red line wells up on her perfect, creamy skin, and adrenaline floods through my veins, rushing straight for my cock.

  “One,” she chokes out.

  I crack my belt against her soft skin again, and she whimpers and arches her back. “Two.”

  The next three blows I do hard and fast, careful never to hit the same spot twice. Her muscles are rock hard beneath my palm, her knuckles white around the edge of the table.

  “Breathe through it, Pen. Breathe.” I give her a few seconds to catch her breath, and then
I whip the belt along the sensitive tops of her thighs, first one, then the other. “This is the pain I want you to remember,” I tell her. “When you need release, this is the pain I want you to crave. Pain I will give you.”

  She sobs, her body shaking as she counts the blows. Sweat beads on my brow, trickles down my back. My body thrums with need, hunger, and pleasure. She is everything I have ever wanted and never imagined I could have. She is the flower I shouldn’t pick because I know I will destroy her.

  “Shh. Almost done.” I tighten my hand around her neck, assuring her that I am here, that I won’t let her go, but I won’t stop until the punishment is done. Her ass is red, hot, and streaked with the lines from my belt. Fiercely beautiful.

  I crack my belt across her ass three more times, giving her a moment between each blow. When the last one is done, I drop the belt and pull her up, turning her so I can cradle her in my arms.

  Penny sobs against my shirt, her hands clenched against my chest. I stroke her hair, murmur assurances, tell her how proud I am, how well she did, how I hope she learned her lesson. My need to provide comfort is as great as her need to receive it. Something about Penny triggers my most basic protective instincts. Outwardly she doesn’t seem vulnerable, with her sassy mouth and her cheerful warmth, and yet beneath those smiles lies a woman who needs what I can give her.

  She sighs, her breaths deepening, her hands loosening their grip. She feels so soft in my arms, so right. How long has it been since I held a woman this way? Held something beautiful in my arms?

  “We need to put something on your skin.” I brush a kiss over her hair.

  “There’s salve in the first aid box.” She straightens her clothing, and opens the door, returning a few moments later with a tube of cream.

  “Back in position.” I close and lock the door behind me.

  Penny leans over the desk and flips up her skirt, wincing as I rub the cream into her skin. My fingers drift down between her legs, and she lets out a tortured moan that I feel in every inch of my rock-hard cock.

  I push aside her panties and slick a finger through her folds. “You’re so wet. You liked your punishment.”

  She parts her legs and whispers, “More.”