Against the Ropes

by Sarah Castille

  thrown back in my seat when we shoot down the speedway. It takes

  me half a lap to get a feel for the vehicle, but once I am comfortable, I

  press the pedal to the floor and the speedometer needle creeps upward.

  One hundred. One twenty. One fifty. One seventy-five. I glance over at

  Dirty Dan and he gives me a wink.

  “Doing well. Just keep it steady. No sudden moves.”

  When we hit one-eighty, my grin stretches from ear to ear, and

  excitement takes my breath away. Everything outside us is a blur—

  Max, his clients, the clubhouse. My only reality is here—Dirty Dan,

  the Aston Martin, and me.

  “You are one hot little package,” Dirty Dan murmurs. “Look at

  you go. No fear in you at all. You handle the vehicle better than most of

  the clients I’ve taken out. Why did Max never bring you here before?”

  “We haven’t known each other long.”

  The steering wheel jerks suddenly to the side and I glance over at

  Dirty Dan. “What was that?”

  He shakes his head. “Don’t know. Maybe you hit a rough patch.

  Make sure you keep your hands at ten and two.”

  I slide my hands into correct position and the steering wrenches

  again, this time turning so sharply I almost lose my grip. The car veers

  to the edge of the pavement.

  “Crap,” Dan mutters. He pushes a red button, frowns, and pushes

  it again. “Looks like something is wrong with their remote system and

  the manual override. Slow down and pull over.”

  Before I can hit the brakes, the steering wheel spins out of my grasp.

  “Look out!” Dirty Dan grabs for the spinning steering wheel just

  as we fly off the track. We spin, round and round and round across the

  grass. It takes both Dirty Dan and I to hold the wheel straight until

  the vehicle is under control. We finally come to rest at the side of the

  track, and I take a huge breath and lean my head on the steering wheel,

  adrenaline pumping through my veins.

  “Wow!” Dirty Dan unbuckles our seat belts. “They have some

  serious bugs in their system. Good thing you decided to go for a spin.”

  I swallow hard and nod. My heart is pounding. My body is trem-

  bling. What a ride!

  “You okay?”

  I flash him a smile. “I’m good to go again. Maybe this time we

  should take a car without the new system.”

  His eyes widen and he grins. “Damn girl, if things don’t work out

  with Max—”

  Uh-oh. Max.

  The door flies open and Max reaches inside and drags me out into

  the big, bright sunny world. He rips off my helmet and runs his hands

  up and down my body.

  “I’m fine, Max. There was a problem with the system but we got it

  under control. I want to go back out but in a normal car.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “I loved it. It was so exciting.”

  “I said NO.” His voice carries across the racetrack and draws the

  attention of everyone in the vicinity.

  He spins around and slams Dirty Dan against the vehicle. “You

  were supposed to keep her speed down. What happened?”

  “She’s a great driver,” Dirty Dan protests. “She handled that car

  like an expert. I didn’t think it would be a problem, especially with the

  new system in place.”

  “Max.” I place my hand on his arm. “I wanted to go fast. Just…chill.”

  “Chill?” His icy tone freezes my blood. He grasps my elbow and

  leads me away from the group. “I brought you here. You are my respon-

  sibility. You could have been seriously injured. Something happens to

  my judgment around you. I knew better than to let you drive.”

  His jaw is tight. His eyes are hard. He bristles with protective anger.

  Adrenaline still pounds through my veins, and the entire experience has

  left me inexplicably and incontrovertibly aroused. I curl into his body

  and press myself against his heat. “I wasn’t afraid. Not for one second.

  There’s nothing to hit out here, and Dirty Dan knew what to do.”

  His body stirs against mine, and he closes his eyes and takes a deep

  breath. “It will never happen again.”

  We hold each other for the longest time. Max’s heart slows to a

  steady rhythm and his muscles relax. He rests his cheek on my head.

  “There was nothing I could do.”

  “I know, Max. I know that was particularly hard for you. But life is

  like that. You can’t control everything.”

  He tightens his arms around me. “I can control you.”

  “I’m afraid I’m uncontrollable.” I laugh lightly. “I like dangerous

  and exciting. That’s why I like you.”

  Max chuckles. “Am I dangerous and exciting?”

  “Very dangerous.” I slide my arms around his neck. “And very

  exciting when you go all-protective alpha-male crazy. It makes me…” I

  search for the right words, “…want you. So much. Now.”

  My words have the desired effect. Max grabs my hand and half

  walks, half drags me to the car warehouse. Once inside the cool, dark

  space, he locks the door. Light filters through cracks in the joints and

  shines through the small windows dotted around the massive space.

  Beautiful, exotic cars in a rainbow of colors gleam in two neat rows.

  We stare at each other for a long moment. With a groan, Max pulls

  me into his chest and covers my lips with a hard kiss. I thread my fingers

  through his hair and pull him down for more.

  “Fuck.” His first word in five minutes isn’t exactly what I wanted to

  hear, but I’ll take what I can get.

  “Yes,” I breathe against his lips. “Now.” My heart pounds. My

  pulse races, and with Max in my arms, my arousal soars.

  “You push me right to the edge.” His husky murmur inflames my

  desire, and I rub myself against the evidence of his need as it strains

  against his fly.

  “I thought you liked it right on the edge.”

  He makes a choking sound, and in ten seconds flat he has me

  stripped and pressed up against the door.

  “Which car should we ride, biker chick?”

  My words catch in my throat. “Lamborghini?”

  “Too low for what I have in mind.”

  He takes my hand and leads me to a brilliant red Audi. “Over you

  go, baby.” He leans me over the hood of the vehicle, and my nipples

  tighten at the erotic sensation of hard metal against my soft flesh. I twist

  to look over my shoulder and Max presses me back down. “Stay still.

  Hands on the hood in front of you.”

  My pulse races and need licks through my veins. I position my

  hands on the Audi’s smooth surface.

  “What is your safe word?”

  I tense. Why do I need to remember my safe word now? “Agusta.”

  Max caresses my bottom cheeks and I tremble. I want him so much,

  I am ready to beg.

  “You disobeyed me,” he murmurs. “You put yourself in danger.

  You need to be punished so you learn not to do it again.”

  “What?” A thrill of fear ratchets through me.

  “You didn’t trust my judgment,” he continues. “I set the speed

  limit to keep you safe.”

  “Please,” I whimper. “No games. I need you.”

&nb
sp; “I have needs, too. I need to know you won’t do anything like

  that again. Ten smacks for disobeying me.” He brings his hand down

  across my behind, smacking me hard. Pain explodes across my cheek

  and I shriek.

  “Max, no. You’re angry.”

  “Do you need to use your safe word?”

  My entire body trembles even as a burning flush spreads outward

  from my bottom. Moisture trickles down my thigh. The nightmare

  dances at the fringes of my consciousness. Anger and violence. We were

  always heading in this direction. This is the last step before the end.

  No. This is not the same. He cares for me. He loves me. He prom-

  ised he would never hurt me. “No.”

  “Good. Because I’m just getting started.” He strikes again, this time

  low on my other cheek.

  I gasp and try to wiggle free. Max’s hand tightens on my back.

  “Don’t move or I’ll punish you for that, too.” He smoothes a hand over

  my flaming cheeks and my tension eases. Two smacks. Not so bad.

  Smack. Smack. Smack. He alternates cheeks and strike zones.

  Nowhere is safe. My bottom flames and I press my hips against the

  metal, trying to find stimulation for the throbbing bundle of nerves

  between my legs.

  “No you don’t.” Max kicks my legs apart and pulls my hips back.

  “First punishment. Then pleasure.”

  He slides his hand between my legs and through my wet folds.

  “Damn, baby. You’re so wet. I knew this would excite you.” He flicks

  his finger over my sweet spot and the shock of pleasure makes my

  knees buckle.

  “Not yet. I’m not done with you.” He repositions me on the

  vehicle and lands two more swats on my flaming skin. “Why are you

  being punished?”

  “Because I scared you?”

  “No.” He strikes again, harder this time. “Because you didn’t

  trust me to protect you. Never again are you going to put yourself in

  danger. Understood?”

  Pain and pleasure flow over my body. My sex quivers. My knees shake.

  Need coils in my belly so tight I can barely think, much less respond.

  SMACK. “Answer me.”

  Part of me wants to tell him to go to hell. Another part wants to

  turn around and make him give me what I want. But the part of me

  consumed by lust answers, “Yes.”

  “Last one,” he rasps. The air whistles and the final smack sends a

  firestorm racing beneath my skin. I scream out my frustration, my need,

  and my pain. Max releases me and flips me over. He lifts me and seats

  my burning bottom on the cool, metal hood.

  “You did so well, baby.” He plants a soft kiss on my forehead and

  I jerk away. I don’t want tenderness. I want release and I want to leave.

  In that order.

  Max shoves his clothing down to his knees. His erection springs

  free, hot, heavy, and pulsing with need. He rips open a condom packet

  with his teeth and sheaths himself.

  “Open for me.” He spreads my thighs with his firm fingers and

  grips my hips. “Look at me, Makayla. I want to watch you come.”

  My eyes widen at the fierce possessiveness of his gaze.

  “Mine,” he rumbles. “Say it.”

  Dazed with need, I whimper, “Yours.”

  He eases inside me and flicks his thumb over my throbbing bundle

  of nerves. One slick flick. One long, hard, delicious thrust. I am filled

  and stretched. I am possessed.

  “You feel so good,” he groans as he pounds into me. “So slick

  and tight.”

  Already on the brink, it takes no more than that to set me off. I

  throw back my head and let loose a guttural scream as my orgasm rips

  through me, sending white hot bolts of lightning through my veins. My

  sex clenches and pulses. Max angles in deep and drives into me with

  quick, hard thrusts. Seconds later, he tenses and shouts his release. The

  throb and pulse of his climax sends me into a new wave of rapture, and

  I bite down on his shoulder to stifle my moan.

  So hard. So fast. So unlike anything we’ve done before. So discon-

  certing. I have to force myself not to pull away.

  We hold each other while the fire dies down. A chill creeps through

  me, winding its way through my body to my heart until I can no longer

  bear to be touched. I ease Max away and dress without saying a word.

  While he hunts around for his shirt, I wander through the cars

  until I find an Aston Martin identical to the one I just drove. I slide

  down until I am sitting on the floor beside the vehicle, my cheek pressed

  against the cool, metal door, my hands around my knees.

  Stones crunch over cement, and Max bends down in front of me.

  “Makayla? Baby?” The pain and hesitation in his voice tear at my heart,

  but still I hold up my hand, palm forward to keep him away.

  Max sits on the floor across from me, his back against a red Ferrari.

  I tighten my lips and study his face. His distress is etched into the lines

  around his eyes; concern in his wrinkled brow. He scrapes his hand

  through his hair. “Let me hold you.”

  I shake my head and close my eyes again. I breathe in the scent of

  rubber and paint, new leather, and old memories.

  “Baby—” His voice cracks and his pain spills between us. My heart

  aches in response. I am hurting him with my silence. Hurting is not

  what I do. He told me he trusted me to tell him if there was something

  he needed to know. There is something he needs to know, and he needs

  to know it now.

  “I used to have nightmares about what happened the night my dad

  died.” I keep my eyes closed and my cheek pressed against the Aston

  Martin. If not for the rasp of Max’s breathing, I could be alone.

  “I was six years old. My dad was an abusive alcoholic. He shouted

  and swore, and hit my mom when he was really drunk. One day he

  came home from the bar worse than usual. When we saw he had a

  baseball bat, Mom told us to run. Susie and I hid in the upstairs closet.”

  Max sucks in a breath but doesn’t interrupt.

  “We heard shouting and screaming and then a thud,” I continue.

  “When we crept to the kitchen, Mom was lying on the floor, bleeding

  from her head. She was moaning, so I knew she was alive, but I didn’t

  know how to heal her. That’s the first time I knew what I wanted to do

  with my life.”

  “Go on, baby.”

  “I tried to wake her up, and he came in and saw us. Susie ran away,

  but I couldn’t leave my mom. He said I could trust him and we would

  run away together. He said he would never hurt me.” I draw in a ragged

  breath and squeeze my legs tight. “I said no and held up my hands to

  ward him away. He was so angry. He lifted me by my wrists and pulled

  me into the air. I kicked out and hit him, and he dropped me. He was

  really angry then. He picked me up around the waist, and threw me

  into the wall.”

  Max makes a choking sound. Stones crunch and suddenly his arms are

  around me and my cheek is against his chest. I shudder into his warmth.

  “Keep going,” he whispers. “I’m here for you.”

  I swallow hard and dig my fingers into his arm. “I lay on the
floor

  and watched him hunt for the bat. I thought we were all going to die. I

  closed my eyes, and I don’t know what happened next. I guess I gave up.

  Next thing I remember is Susie slapping my cheek. My father was lying

  on the floor, out cold but still breathing. We got Mom up and we all ran

  away with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Despite everything, it

  was exciting to run away in the dark, knowing we would never be afraid

  again.” My body tightens. “That’s how I know I’m not a fighter. They

  needed me and I gave up. It has always stayed with me.”

  Max’s fists clench and unclench against my back. His voice lowers

  and thickens. “How did he die?”

  “We found out later he got in the car—presumably to chase after

  us—but he was so drunk he hit a post. He died instantly.”

  “What about Susie? Couldn’t she tell you what happened?”

  I shake my head. “She never talked about it. I don’t think she re-

  members. She left home as soon as she could.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice wavers. “No wonder you have

  issues with violence and being restrained. I would never have asked you to

  work at the club. I would never have—” He chokes on his words. “Christ.”

  I close my eyes and breathe in his warm, sexy Max smell. “I like

  being with you, Max. You make me feel alive. I like the things we do to-

  gether. I won’t lie and say they don’t scare me. They do. But I trust you,

  and that trust turns the fear into something thrilling. The flashbacks

  only come when I’ve lost control—like when you tie me up.”

  Do I tell him my real fears? That he needs a level of control I

  can’t give, or that he will turn his violence on me? Was today a game

  or a warning?

  Max pulls me up and holds my face between his hands. “What we

  do together is totally different from what happened that night. You

  are in total control. One word and it stops. The only problem would

  be if you didn’t trust me enough to know I would stop when you said

  the word.”

  “That’s what happened today,” I whisper. “You were angry at me.

  I couldn’t tell if we were playing or if it was real, and if it was real then

  I was afraid you had lost control and you wouldn’t stop. Like him.

  Violence and anger together scare me more than anything else.”