“Down.” Jack slaps the side of my thigh so hard it takes my breath away.
“Bloody hell,” I mutter. “I need to come.”
A smile tugs at Jack’s lips. “You can do better than that.”
He turns the vibrator off, and I let my frustration go. “Miserable git. Bellend. Tosser. Pillock. Bastard. Wanker. Twat.”
Jack roars with laughter. “When I imagined you dirty talking, I never thought it would all be directed at me.”
“I need to come, you arse.” I groan and drop my legs to the bed.
“You want to come.” His voice is hoarse, rough, and his erection strains against the fly of his jeans. “You need something else.”
I look down and meet his firm gaze. “What do I need?”
“You need pain, beautiful girl. And I’m going to give it to you.”
He draws the vibe out and then presses it back in, just enough to tease but not enough to satisfy. The rabbit ears dance over my clit, and every time I near my peak, he moves them somewhere else. I curse him using every American swear word I know, and then I pull out the all the British swear words I can remember. But he keeps it up until my labia are swollen, and every thrust and lick of the vibrator sends electricity shooting through my veins, burning away every thought in my head except the desperate, gut-wrenching need to come.
A sob rips from my throat. Jack drops the vibrator and tears open his jeans, making quick work of discarding them on the floor. Unable to speak, a breath away from orgasm, I tremble as he sheaths himself with a condom from his pocket. How can I feel so much pain and so much pleasure at once?
Without a word, he flips me over. My hands twist the belt and it tightens around my wrists. Jack grabs my hips, pulling my ass upward as my upper body falls to the bed, my weight on my elbows and forearms. He kicks my legs apart with his knee and yanks me back on his huge, hard cock.
Ah God. So good. I whimper as he pushes deep inside.
“Let me hear you.” He hammers into me with long, deep strokes that rip my breath from my lungs. “I want to hear you scream.”
My heart pounds. Blood rushes through my veins. My nipples pinch hard with desire, and sweat beads on my flesh. Fire consumes me, possesses me, fanning the flames of need.
Jack reaches over my hip. His thumb grazes my slick flesh, whispering over my throbbing clit. “Are you ready to pay for your pleasure? Are you going to give me your pain?”
“Yes. Please. Yes.”
“Brace yourself.” He slaps my mound, right over my clit.
I am undone.
Pleasure ripples out from my center all the way to my fingers and toes. Jack circles my clit with his finger, dragging out my orgasm until I cannot think or breathe for the exquisite clenching of my pussy.
With a low groan he grabs my hips, his fingers digging into my tender flesh, and pounds into me so hard the bed thuds against the wall. Finally he climaxes, his cock jerking deep inside me, pulsing against my sensitive inner walls.
Jack collapses over my back, taking his weight on his hands. He presses a soft kiss to my neck, rests his forehead in my hair. Sighs.
“Jack? You okay?”
He releases the restraints and pulls me up to my knees, settling me back against his body as he rubs my wrists to restore my circulation. “Fucks with my head, wanting to hurt you and protect you at the same time.”
“I trust you, Jack. I know you would never go too far.”
“Means a lot to me, you saying that.” He tightens his arms around me.
“Does that mean you’ll stay the night?” I check the clock. “It’s three a.m. No point going all the way home when there’s a nice soft bed right here.”
“I gotta be at the gym at six a.m. on Saturdays, and I have to pick up my gear first.” He eases away and grabs his jeans as he goes to dispose of the condom, leaving me bereft. I pull my T-shirt down and slide back under the covers. Jack returns fully clothed, and stands in the doorway. Although he’s not far from the bed, it feels like he’s miles away.
“You busy later?” he says, finally. “Maybe we can hook up for lunch.”
“Third Saturday in the month I always go to Ambleside, it’s a seniors’ home in Alameda. I play some bingo, a little backgammon, hang with my friend Rose…”
“Seniors’ home? You got grandparents here?”
I tuck the covers tight around me. “No, but I got to know the director when she brought a couple of the residents to one of Amanda’s legal aid clinics to get their wills done. Rose was one of them. She was found on the street with a big bag stuffed with cash. No ID. No family. And she doesn’t talk. She seemed so sad. I went to visit the next week and I brought Clarice with me. The director said that was the first time she saw Rose smile. I’ve been going every month to see her and spend time with some of the other residents who don’t have family or friends.”
He stares at me for a long moment, and then his face softens, warms. “Fuck me,” he says softly. He unbuckles his belt, strips off his jeans.
Hope flares in my chest. “What are you doing?”
“Got a few hours, and I want to spend it lying beside the prettiest fucking girl I ever laid eyes on, who’s so busy giving out caring she doesn’t get any for herself.” He throws back the covers and slides into bed beside me.
Warmth blooms inside me. I snuggle up against him, rest my head against his chest.
“Are you sure you won’t go up in flames when the sun comes up?” I tease. “Or break out in a rash because you’re in a girl’s bed? Or—”
“Maybe I didn’t whip you enough in the office,” he muses, his hand gently caressing my still-tender behind.
“I’m suddenly feeling very sleepy and not really in the mood for all this talking.” I lean up and nuzzle his neck. “I’m glad you’re staying, even if it is only for a few hours.”
“Yeah, me too.”
I drift off to sleep; the only thing ruining this perfect moment is Jack’s taut, tense body beneath me.
* * *
Clarice and I arrive at Ambleside Meadows just before noon.
Julie, the executive director, greets me at the door of the Shaker-style building decorated in cream, mauve, and sage. Thin and wiry, with short blond hair and so much energy she puts even the MMA fighters to shame, Julie is one of the most caring people I’ve ever met. Ambleside is her dream—a retirement home with a difference. Every weekend, she invites people from the community to share their talents with the retirees, who can then share their experience in turn. They learn from each other, and as a result, her residents are happier and more engaged in the community. “We’ve got a full house today,” she says. “Chess player, opera singer, accountant, actor, a pastry chef…”
“And me and my cat.” I put down my kitty travel carrier, and Clarice meows in protest.
“Our marketing genius.” Julie beams and waves her hand at the Ambleside logo on the door that I designed for them the first year I started visiting.
When Julie first brought her residents to see Amanda about getting wills drafted, she mentioned that Ambleside might be reverting to an ordinary care home at the end of the year. Although her residents loved the community involvement program, she had been unable to attract enough volunteers to make it viable or enough residents who were willing to pay the higher fee for the service, given the stiff competition in the area.
The first time I walked in the door, I knew why. No branding, no logo, nothing to catch the eye, capture the imagination, or differentiate them from other care homes. In my free time, I sketched a few things for Julie and put her in touch with another one of Amanda’s clients in a marketing firm. Six months later, they had a waiting list, not just of residents but also of people in the community who were interested in helping out.
“I thought she was a legal assistant,” says a deep voice behind me, soft with a Southern t
wang.
I spin around, startled when I see Jack behind me. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“You gave me the name. Wasn’t hard to track down.” Jack leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I do three hours on, three hours off on Saturdays. Thought I’d spend my three hours off seeing what you get up to when I’m not around.”
A thrill of joy runs through my body. He came all this way for me. For the briefest of moments I feel something I’ve never felt before—wanted, worthy, and insanely happy.
A smile splits Julie’s face. “You have a boyfriend? Why didn’t you tell me?”
My joy wavers a little, and I glance over at Jack, still uncertain where we stand. “We’re just…uh…friends,” I stammer. “This is Jack. He’s a professional MMA fighter. I think some of the guys here might enjoy talking to him.”
“Are you kidding me?” Julie’s voice rises in pitch. “I’m going to make an announcement right now.”
“I hope you don’t mind.” I look up at Jack’s amused face after Julie races away. “I know a couple of the guys here used to be boxers, and I think a few of the residents used to be professional athletes, too.”
“Not at all. There’s nothing I like better than sharing fight stories, except spending time with you.” He pulls me against him, brushes his lips over mine. “Didn’t like leaving you this morning, all soft and sleepy, cuddled against me.”
“Didn’t like waking up alone.” I run my tongue over the seam of his lips, and he opens for me with a groan. “But seeing you here kind of makes up for it. This is better than Christmas morning.”
“You keep doing that, you’re gonna get an unexpected present,” he murmurs.
“Is it a big present?” I press myself against him, rub my hip against the bulge in his jeans.
Jack chuckles. “They don’t get bigger.”
“I’m glad one of us doesn’t have problems with his ego.” I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down for a proper kiss. If this is the kind of friendship he wants, then I’ll take it, even if I can sense heartbreak ahead.
“So what’s this about you being a marketing genius?” He pulls away just enough to talk, and I lean against him, soak in the delicious heat of his body. He’s rocking a short-sleeved button-down black shirt over his worn jeans, but then with a body like his, everything he wears looks hot.
“Just a hobby. My mom was a marketing executive, and I like doodling designs. Sometimes I see a sign or a product and I think I could come up with something catchier or more compelling. I don’t have any training. It’s just something I do for fun. I did the logo you see on the door…”
“It’s really good,” he says, studying the design. “You’ve got a lot of talent. You ever think of running with that?”
Clarice meows for my attention, and I bend down and open the cage door to let her out. “I’m not good enough to take it anywhere. Plus, I’d have to go back to school, and I have to work to pay the rent. It’s more of a hobby.”
“MMA was a hobby for me, and then it became something more.” He tucks a rogue strand of hair behind my ear when I stand. “If you love something, it doesn’t seem like work when you’re learning the ropes. In the beginning, the distillery was paying the bills. Now, it’s gonna be the other way around.”
“Not everyone is lucky enough to find a talent and make it into a career.”
“It’s not about luck,” he says. “It’s about going after what you want and not letting anything stand in your way.”
Julie returns and picks up Clarice to give her a cuddle. “We’re all set. I’m going to steal Jack away for a chat with some of the guys and you and Clarice can visit with Rose.”
“Why did you name her Clarice?” Jack gives her a tentative pat and gets an unexpected purr in return.
“Heroine of my favorite movie. She was beautiful, brave, strong, and determined. No matter how bad it got, she didn’t give up. Clarice went through a lot before I found her. I thought she’d earned her name.”
“She’s not the only one who went through a lot and came out strong.”
I look up at him to protest but stop at the soft expression on his face.
Julie coughs loudly, and I bite back a smile.
“I’ll come and find you after I’m done talking with Rose.”
Jack frowns. “I thought you said Rose couldn’t talk.”
I slide my hand into his and give it a squeeze. “Sometimes actions speak louder than words.”
* * *
RAMPAGE
Torment sends one of his minions to drag me to his office as soon as I walk into Redemption after returning from Ambleside. I knew it was coming. No one breaks the rules and lives to tell the tale. Not even me, and I’m one of the founding members of the gym.
I stalk ahead of the young kid who was unlucky enough to be in Torment’s line of sight when he heard I was back from my break, and my good mood fades. Meeting the seniors at Ambleside was an unexpected pleasure. All professional athletes back in the day, they had some great stories to tell, and damned if they didn’t have a few tips that I plan to implement in the cage. But seeing Penny so happy was the greatest pleasure of all. She expects so little that even the smallest gesture means so much, and it is hard not to be drawn by someone who gives so willingly of herself.
I don’t bother knocking when we reach Torment’s office. Instead, I go on the offensive and push open his frosted glass door.
“Sit.” He gestures to the black leather chair in front of his massive cherry wood desk. Torment, being Torment, never does anything by halves.
Bristling, I sit only because I know I’m in the wrong.
“Never seen you lose it like you did last night.” No pleasantries. Torment never beats around the bush. “You broke one of our fundamental rules about fighting in the gym.”
“The rule is that fighting isn’t allowed outside of the practice ring,” I counter. “We were in the ring.”
Torment’s eyes narrow. “Don’t play technicalities with me. You know damn well what the rule means and the purpose behind it. You wrote it.”
“It won’t happen again.”
“Penny is a member of the gym,” he says. “She’s here a couple of times a week. How can you guarantee you aren’t going to flip out again if she gets hurt?”
Goddamn bastard thinks he knows everything. “There’s nothing between us.”
Torment snorts a laugh. “We all start out telling ourselves that, but at some point you start seeing what everyone else sees. I ripped through the gym when I caught Makayla playing strip poker with you losers. Renegade almost broke Doctor Death’s neck when he was putting the moves on Amanda. The Predator risked his job and his life to avenge Sia. We protect our friends, but we only lose control when it comes to the women we care about.”
“You’re wrong.” I push myself to my feet, uncomfortable with where this conversation is headed and the reminder that I am breaking one of my cardinal rules about getting involved.
“Yeah?” Torment grins. “Where did you spend the night after you took her home?”
“Fuck off.”
He holds up his hands in a pacifying gesture. “I’m happy for you. All these years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you with a woman in any way other than friendship.”
“Christ. Just let it go.” Fucking bastard is trying to get under my skin in the worst possible way.
“What does she think?” Torment scrawls something on a piece of paper and slides it over the desk.
“It doesn’t matter what she thinks. It is what it is. Friendship.”
“Are you sure about that?” He gives me a smug smile when I pick up the piece of paper. “From what I’ve seen, Penny’s a very determined woman. When she wants something, she gives it 110 percent effort. No one works harder in the classes. No one has ever cha
llenged Fuzzy the way she does. She had next to no experience, and yet she stepped into the ring with Shilla because there was something she wanted from that encounter and she wasn’t afraid to go after it. She’s got more courage than most of the guys who walk in here and tell me they want to be fighters. Hell, if she wanted to become a fighter, I’d train her myself.”
The thought of Torment going anywhere near Penny has me crushing the paper in my hand. I know everything that goes on at Redemption, and Torment is number one on the single ladies’ fantasy list of whom they want to sleep with at the gym. I trust Torment. He’s one of my closest friends. He is head over heels in love with Makayla, and he isn’t the kind of man who would ever stray. And yet the thought of him training Penny, being with her every day, touching her, drives me out of my fucking mind.
“I wouldn’t allow her to fight. It’s too fucking dangerous.” I slam my hand against the wall. “Christ. Just the thought of her in the ring makes me fucking crazy.”
Torment chuckles. “Welcome to the club.”
“What club?”
“The club where you fight the inevitable and lose.”
Fed up with Torment and his insinuations, I grab the door handle. “I’m outta here.”
“Don’t lose that piece of paper,” Torment calls out. “You’ll need it tonight.”
“What is it?” Pausing in the doorway, I smooth the paper and frown at the number written on it in blue pen.
“The number of drinks you’ll have to buy for the team at Score tonight to atone for your sins,” he says. “Plus one.”
“Plus one?”
Torment gives me an irritating bastard smile. “You want to keep your membership at Redemption, I expect to see Penny there. Just try not to cause any trouble.”
17
Goddamn. Bastard. Touching. My. Girl.
PENNY
“We’re rocking this sports bar.”
Cora turns away from the sea of big-screen TVs and checks out the crowd. She’s wearing a black-and-red dress with vinyl strips angling across her breasts and running down the front, with knee-high black leather boots. She says it’s a sci-fi thing, although it looks more peace sign than alien to me. She hasn’t said anything about how things are going with Blade Saw, but when I called her up after getting Jack’s text about coming out tonight, she was more than happy to join us.
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