“You said you were looking for me at Redemption.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders sag. “Adam, my ex, called me this morning. He got his shit together and now he’s studying for a psychology degree. He’s in LA on some internship program and he called my parents and tracked me down. He thought…” Her voice hitches. “…that I’d make a good field study.”
My upper lip curls in disgust. “A field study?”
“Yeah.” She gives a resigned sigh. “I guess I fit a type: abusive childhood leading to self-harm, recreating the abusive relationships as I try, and fail, to find the love I didn’t get at home—he didn’t even see the irony in that one—self-harm as emotional release, blah, blah, blah… I can’t remember everything he said, but basically, he wants to study me because I’m broken. I told him to take a hike.”
“Jesus Christ. You’re not broken, Pen. You are perfect, just the way you are.” I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight. I don’t care that Damien is watching from the doorway or that the workers are taking pictures with their phones. She’s hurting, and she needs me, and there is nothing I want more than to take away her pain. “You got an address for that bastard?”
“Yeah.” She looks up, a smile ghosting her lips. “But I’m not giving it to you because I have a feeling I won’t like what you’re planning to do.”
No matter. Ray is the best PI in the city. Once I tell him the bastard who hurt Penny is in the country, he’ll track him down. Then we can pay a visit to him together.
“Jack?” She pulls me back to the moment, and I study her sweet face. If I were a better man, I would let her go, find someone who won’t hurt her in any way, and continue as I was before she walked into my club and showed me her pain.
But I am not that man.
I am a selfish man. I have found a woman who lights my life, and I cannot let her go.
“What happened to my muscle?” Damien shouts.
“Is that why you’re here?” Hope flares in her eyes. “Because of the contractors? Not because you were going inside?”
“Damien called and asked for my help. And no, I didn’t go in. Not after I made you a promise last night.”
“But you want to,” she says quietly, catching my gaze as it flicks to the door. “You need to hurt someone. Hurt me, Jack. Let me try to give you what you need.”
I cup her face between my hands, studying her intently, trying to figure out what’s going on behind her overly bright eyes. “I told you last night, you’re enough for me the way you are. This is not something you have to do.”
She closes her eyes, takes a breath. When she looks up again, the fervor has gone from her face. “I want to do it. And before you say anything, I’ll tell you I’m not being totally altruistic. When you hurt me, I don’t need to hurt myself. Maybe it’s unconventional and not something a therapist would approve, but it works for me. I want to be with you the way you need me. You can embrace your darkness, and I can embrace mine.”
I can refuse her nothing.
“If you’re free tonight, we could go in now.”
“No.” She gives an almost violent shake of her head. “Not here. It’s…um…unnerving. Especially since there are women there who you…you know.”
“You’re jealous?”
“Yes! I’m jealous.” She sounds almost relieved to reveal this fact to me, so much that her admission doesn’t ring true. But she is offering so much, I can’t ask for more.
“Wednesday. After the charity fight.” I kiss her softly. “I’ll set something up outside the club. And I will give you pain.”
20
I suffer. You suffer.
PENNY
Wednesday night, Team Redemption is out in force for Jack’s charity match at the Kezar Pavilion. As with most of the fights I’ve attended, the crowd is crazy loud. Every punch, every kick, and every submission throws them into a frenzy. Although the match isn’t being broadcast, the organizers have set up giant screens, and with Torment on my left, Blade Saw on my right, and a grinning Cora beside him, there is no chance I’ll miss a single detail.
“Christ,” Torment mutters. “What the hell kind of fighters is Duke’s Promotions pulling in these days? Did you see all that flailing around? If Rampage fights like that when it’s his turn in the cage, I’m gonna go in there and shake things up.”
Blade Saw barks a laugh and points at the cage. “Fuck. Lookit that dude. I think he’s going for a gogoplata, but all he’s doing is spinning his opponent.”
“Aren’t they just starting out in the pros?” Cora asks. “Maybe they’re just nervous.”
Blade Saw whispers in her ear, and she blushes. I’m happy things worked out after the bar brawl, although I would have been happier if Cora hadn’t texted me details of just how good Blade Saw is in bed while I had to endure two days of abstinence. Jack needed to focus while he prepared for his fight, and that meant I had to sleep alone.
“Who has a fight card?”
Doctor Death leans across Torment and taps my arm. “He’s up next.”
Bam. Torment knocks Doctor Death’s hand away. “There was a reason I switched seats with you,” Torment says. “And that reason is to make sure you stay out of touching distance of Rampage’s girl.”
“He didn’t do the walk-around.” Doctor Death lifts an eyebrow. “Until he does the walk-around, introducing her as his girl at Redemption, she’s free game.”
“Game?” I narrow my eyes. “I’m not a wild animal.”
“Oh, you’re wild. I’ve seen the wildness in you. It’s why I can’t stay away.” Doctor Death leans behind Torment and pets my hair.
“Break his arm,” Torment mutters to Blade Saw. “Or I’m going to rip it off.”
Doctor Death’s arm is saved by the timely arrival of Jack, a.k.a. Rampage, and his opponent, Razzor. I remember the tall, blond Swede from Redemption. He and Shilla used to train together but he moved to another gym last year. Physically, he doesn’t appear to be any match for Jack, who is broader and more muscular despite being about two inches shorter.
They enter the cage, and I jump on my seat and scream.
Doctor Death looks up and grins. “Wild. Just like I said.”
The referee blows his whistle, and Razzor shoots in and scores a quick takedown. He positions himself on top of Jack and plants big shots and elbows. Jack throws his own vertical elbows to the top of Razzor’s head.
“He’s keeping his guard closed.” Blade Saw gives me a nudge. “That’s good. He’s still in control.”
Razzor moves to pass, and Jack gets in a butterfly half guard and uses it to elevate Razzor and get up, despite being four minutes on the mat. Once up, he blasts Razzor with straight punches against the cage. He is mesmerizingly powerful, fiercely beautiful. My knees go weak at the thought of those muscles bunching beneath my hands, those hips driving into me, his cock thrusting inside me…
“He was playing with him,” Torment says. “Pretending he was stuck on the mat.”
Razzor shoots again, but his aim is off, and he eats more shots from a powerful, ruthless Jack. Muscles straining, abs rippling, Jack pummels Razzor, landing one last straight left hand to the chin before Razzor drops. He follows Razzor down, and the fight is stopped with three seconds left in the round.
“Jump and scream, Pen.” Torment helps me up on my chair. “That’s why you’re here. Nothing a fighter likes more than to see his girl cheering for him.”
I jump.
I scream.
Jack looks over and smiles.
Half an hour later, Jack walks out of the changing room and into my arms in the hallway outside the pavilion.
“You were awesome, except for the four minutes where you toyed with him.” I kiss him lightly. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with your food?”
“I’m glad no one did.” He pulls me into hi
s chest and deepens the kiss. “I’m in the mood to play right now. Nothing winds me up more than a good fight, especially after I had to go two days without you while I was prepping for the fight.”
“Here?” I glance around. “Now?”
He nuzzles my neck and nips so hard I gasp. “Do you want to play, darlin’?”
“Yes.” A flush of heat sweeps over my skin. “I want to play. But I want to play hard. I don’t want you to hold back. I want to be what you need me to be.”
“Come.” He leads me down the hallway to a supply closet. I pull the string on the light above us as he closes the door.
“I promised you pain,” he continues. “And I’m gonna give it to you.”
For a moment I wonder if I really know what I’ve gotten myself into, but before I can protest, Jack’s lips are on mine, and his hands are pushing down my jeans.
“Take off your panties.” His eyes take on the gleam I know so well, and I shimmy my jeans and knickers down and step out of them.
“Spread your legs.”
Heart thudding, I part my legs. Jack reaches into his duffel bag and pulls out a soft black velvet bag.
“Have you ever used Ben Wa balls, Pen?” He shows me two bright pink balls attached by a string and covered in what appear to be little rounded plastic spikes.
I hesitate, look up, and meet his gaze. “No. But the ones I’ve read about or seen are smooth. The spikes look…like they might hurt.”
“They will, but in a good way.”
My pussy clenches, and I swallow hard. “Hurt, not harm?”
“I will never harm you, and I’ll never push you farther than I think you can go. The spikes will make you more sensitive after we remove them.”
“Okay.” I lick my lips in anticipation.
“Lift for me. One leg over my shoulder.” He drops to his knees in front of me, and I lean against a shelf, one leg over his shoulder, leaving me exposed and open to him.
“Very nice.” He slicks a thick finger along my slit. “You’re already soaked. I think you’re going to enjoy your present.” He leans in to me and flicks his tongue over my clit. I moan and tilt my hips, encouraging, but Jack holds me in position and pushes two fingers inside me.
“Stay still. I need to get you ready.”
His words seem to have a direct effect on my pussy, and I clench around his finger. “I think you could make me ready just by the things you say.”
“You like to hear about how I’m going to hurt you?” He drives his fingers deep inside me, taking what he wants but not giving me what I need. “Do you like to hear how it will hurt but it will be good for you because the pleasure I give you after will make up for the pain?”
“Yes.” I grip his head, my fingers threading through the softness of his hair. “And if you’re going to talk dirty in that sexy accent, then you’d better make me come.”
His lips quirk in a smile, his steely gaze softening. “This isn’t about what you want.” He reaches for the velvet bag. “It’s about what I want. And right now, what I want is to hear you tell me you are ready to take the pain I’m going to give you.”
“I’m ready.”
Jack gently presses one of the balls against my opening, rolling it over my labia. I am relieved that the spiky nodules aren’t sharp, although they are fairly rigid. Still, when he pushes the first ball inside me, I can feel every bump and ridge on my inner walls, and the friction the spikes create makes me tense up inside.
“I can’t, Jack. Two would be too much.”
“You can take it.” He frowns, that single shift in expression telling me he’s not backing down. “They’re going in, so you need to relax.” He leans forward and flicks his tongue over my clit, sending a rush of wetness through my pussy. I tilt my hips forward for more, and he pushes the second ball inside.
“Oh God.” I feel full, overly stretched. The balls must have little weights on them because when Jack lowers my leg to the ground, they shift inside me, kicking my arousal up another notch.
“How do they feel?” He helps me into my knickers and jeans, and I slide them over my hips.
“Uncomfortable.” I take a few steps, try to adjust to the small weights shifting inside me. “They feel too big, and the spiky things give me a sensation that is halfway between pleasure and pain, and the way they move is driving me crazy, like when you lick my clit and then stop.” I lift an admonishing eyebrow, and Jack laughs.
“There’s a string for removing them, but you can only use it if you’ve given me your safe word first. Which is…?”
“Redemption.”
“I want you to wear a skirt tonight,” he says. “We’ll stop at your place on the way to the gym so you can change.”
“Maybe we can do something at my place while I’m changing since I won’t have any clothes on?” I give a suggestive wiggle of my hips, and Jack laughs.
“We’re going to the post-fight party. I have a surprise waiting for you there.” He cups my face between his hands and kisses me, hard and hungry. I can taste his need, as fierce and deep as mine.
“Haven’t you forgotten something?” I point to the bulge in his jeans, his shaft very visibly erect.
Jack lifts his duffel bag, letting it fall discreetly over his front. “We’re both going to suffer tonight.”
* * *
Team Redemption roars when Jack and I walk into the gym after a quick stop at my place for a change of clothes. Torment has opened Redemption up after hours for a celebration party. Jack is immediately surrounded, thudded on the back, his hand pumped, high-fived, and fist-bumped. Relieved to be out of the limelight, I take a step back and try not to think about the balls shifting inside me, or how badly I need to come.
We head over to the lounge where Obsidian is pouring drinks at a small makeshift wet bar in the corner. It’s a small group—just the team and a few close friends and partners. I wave to Makayla and Amanda talking with Shilla on one of the big brown leather couches, and follow Jack to the bar where Blade Saw, Cora, and Homicide Hank have lined up some shots.
“Where’s your wife?” I ask. Homicide Hank has so many kids we’ve lost count, and his wife doesn’t come out to the parties as often as she used to.
“Pregnant.” He throws back a shot.
“What is that? Five? Six?” Blade Saw toys with the ribbons on Cora’s halter top, and I pull off my sweater just in case she needs a quick cover-up.
“You’re showing a lot of skin,” Jack murmurs in my ear. “Don’t like how the guys are checking you out.” He wasn’t happy with my change of clothes, and especially not the draped gray satin tank that plunges low or the short white skirt that is just long enough to be decent.
“You suffer. I suffer.”
“Sweater on,” he snaps.
“Toys out,” I answer.
He presses his lips together and glares. “It’s gonna be a long fucking night.”
Obsidian hands me a vodka shooter, and I take a sip, savoring the sweet liquid as it slides over my tongue. Maybe the naughty toy experience will be easier to manage if I’ve had a few drinks. I finish my shot in one gulp and wave to the bartender for another. Jack looks over and frowns.
Torment gives a toast to Jack’s awesomeness in the ring. We drink. He toasts Redemption. We drink. He toasts Redemption’s amazing coaches that have produced some professional fighters. We drink. He waxes eloquent about Redemption’s history and the days when it was only he, Renegade, and Rampage fighting each other on some old, worn mats in a big empty warehouse. We drink. He mumbles something about the women behind the men. I take a sip for every Redemption woman I know. I wave to the bartender for another. Jack snatches it away.
“Enough.”
I stand on my toes and kiss him. “It’s helping me deal with the fact that my knickers are so wet they are now redundant,” I whisper in his ear.
Jack’s eyes darken almost to black. “Then we’ll take them off.” The deep rumble of his voice stirs naughty thoughts that tempt me to disobey him just to see what he’ll do.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
He gives me a scorching, sensual look that tells me he would dare indeed and I might be asking for more trouble than I can handle.
After an hour of drinking and chatting, the party moves into the gym, where Homicide Hank challenges Shilla to a fight in the cage. Although Shilla is no match for the heavier fighters, she can hold her own against a featherweight like Homicide Hank. The consummate sadist, Jack takes me the long way, step by agonizing step through every hallway in the building, followed by a slow walk through the crowd until I am unable to think of anything but my desperate, almost-painful need to come.
Shilla wins the fight in ten seconds flat. While Jack is congratulating her on a job well done, I slip out of the gym, intending to find some secret relief in the ladies’ restroom.
“Wait up. I’m heading your way.” Doctor Death catches up with me in the hallway. “I guess congratulations are in order.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You just got the walk-around.”
We stop near the restrooms, and he runs a hand through his golden hair. “It’s a tradition at Redemption. When a fighter finds his girl, he parades her around Redemption to warn everyone else away.”
And I thought Jack was just being his sadistic self. “That sounds very…primitive.”
Doctor Death laughs. “It is. But Redemption fighters are very territorial. Once you’ve been claimed—”
“Claimed?”
“There’s no going back.” He sighs and brushes a kiss over my cheek. “Another good one gone. One day it’s going to be me in there, staking my claim with a bevy of buxom beauties.”
“Death!” Jack’s angry voice echoes down the corridor. “Get your fucking paws off her. Were you fucking unclear about the message I sent tonight?”
Fighting Attraction Page 21