Win by Submission

by Melynda Price

  Losing the battle, he broke into a full-on, panty-dropping grin and spread his arms wide. Mother Mary, he had a long reach. No wonder his opponents had trouble getting within striking distance.

  “Hey, if you’re trying to take advantage of me, sweetheart, you don’t need to get me drunk first.”

  “Ha-ha.” She rolled her eyes. “So have you ever played or not?”

  “I can’t say that I have.”

  “Okay then, here’s how it works. I’m going to say something I’ve never done. If you haven’t either, it’s your turn. But if you have, you drink a shot of brandy. If you refuse to answer, you have to drink twice. Get it?”

  “I got it.”

  “Good. I’ll go first.”

  “Why do you get to go first?”

  “My game. My rules. That’s why.”

  He chuckled, looking wholly amused. He crossed his arms over his chest and stretched into a lazy sprawl, those tree trunks he called legs slipping between her feet. “All right, Kat, shoot.”

  Katie looked fucking adorable sitting there across from him, cheeks flushed by her buzz, trying to think of what to say. She thoughtfully tapped her finger against her lips, drawing his gaze to the full, lush softness of that amazing mouth. He couldn’t believe he’d let her talk him into this. Cole didn’t play games, nor did he talk about himself. So what the hell was he doing?

  “Oh, I know! Never have I ever . . . passed a swimming test.”

  “Seriously?” Cole grabbed the bottle of brandy and lifted it in salute, tipping it back. The undiluted liquor burned a trail into his gut.

  “Nope. Can’t swim a lick. Being on the water pretty much terrifies me. That’s why never have I ever been on a cruise.”

  He took another swig.

  “You have? Where did you go?”

  “Belize. It was a CFA-sponsored cruise. A bunch of the fighters and the octagon girls traveled to some ports. It was a big publicity thing.”

  Katie looked like she just bit into a lemon. “You travel with the octagon girls? Do you guys have to do that kind of thing often?”

  Cole shrugged. “It depends on how high profile the fighter is, and how much publicity he’s pulling before a fight.”

  “Are you high profile?”

  How cute. She’s jealous . . . Cole nodded. “All title fighters are big money.”

  She looked like she wanted to say something more, but then paused, thinking a moment. “Never have I ever slept with one of my co-workers.”

  Aww . . . fuck me. Cole lifted the bottle once—twice.

  “You did! I can’t believe you slept with an octagon girl!”

  It wasn’t just one. “Hey, you don’t know that. I drank twice!” But he couldn’t hold back his guilty grin.

  “Everyone knows that’s the same as admitting it!” She tried to feign offense, but couldn’t quite pull it off.

  “So I slammed a second shot for nothing? This game sucks, Kat.”

  “Well, maybe if someone didn’t have to drink every time, he’d get a turn, too!”

  “I have a better idea. Instead of playing I Never, let’s play I Want. Same concept. I tell you something I want. If you don’t agree, it’s your turn. But if you want it, too, you drink. If you don’t want to answer, you drink twice. Ready? Go! I want a million dollars.”

  Katie rolled her eyes and reached across the table, grabbing the bottle, and took a swig. She gasped at the burn, eyes watering. “Uhh . . . this stuff tastes terrible!” Cole handed her a Coke to chase it down.

  “I want a beach house in Kauai.”

  She took another swig. “Come on, Cole. These are too obvious. You’re gonna get me drunk.”

  “Do you want me to be more specific?” he asked innocently.

  She nodded. He smiled when a hiccup escaped her parted lips and she giggled.

  “I want to kiss you.”

  Her gaze shot to his, holding Cole’s stare as he waited for her response. Slowly now, she lifted the bottle to her lips and tipped it back. She’d almost returned it to the table when he added, “Between your legs.”

  Something flashed in her verdant eyes. It was so raw, so needy, it took every last bit of his self-control not to leap over the table and take her right then and there. She said nothing as she lifted the bottle to her lips and tipped her head back. Lust flooded his veins as he watched Katie’s delicate throat working the swallow. Holy hell, this woman was his own personal brand of octane.

  “I want to finish what we started last night,” he added before she could put the bottle down.

  She drank. She drank again.

  “I knew it!”

  Katie leaned forward and set the bottle on the table. “I drank twice, Cole.”

  “But everyone knows it’s the same as admitting it,” he teased, throwing her taunting words back at her.

  “You know what I want?” It wasn’t her turn to go, but he was too curious to point that out.

  He grabbed the bottle and began lifting it to his lips in anticipation as she started to speak. “I want a man who will put me above everything else, and will be in it for the long haul.” Cole’s arm froze midway to his mouth and he sat there, motionless, staring at her, caught completely off guard, as she continued. “I want someone who isn’t afraid of commitment or afraid to love. Someone who will be there today, tomorrow, and forty years from now.”

  Fuck. Slowly, Cole lowered the bottle, setting it on the table. As much as he wanted to agree with her—as much as he wanted to be that guy—he couldn’t. He wouldn’t lie to her and pretend otherwise. He had to go back. It wasn’t a matter of wanting to.

  “I didn’t think you’d agree,” she said softly, and rose to stand.

  The emptiness in her eyes nearly broke him. Exhaling a sigh, Cole stood and caught her arm before she could walk away. “Listen, Kat, it’s not like that. Even if I wanted to stay, I can’t. I’m under contract for at least one more fight, and if I successfully defend my title, that contract extends until I’m defeated. I owe Tapout and Under Armour two more years. We’re talking hundreds of thousands of dollars in lawsuits. Not to mention what it would do to my reputation.”

  She kept her head turned away. Dammit, he wished he could see her face.

  “I get it, Cole. You don’t owe me any explanations.”

  Maybe not, but dammit, he wanted to give them to her. “Kat, look at me.” When she didn’t move, he reached up and gently took hold of her chin, turning her head and forcing her eyes to meet his. The vulnerability he saw reflecting back at him was like taking a sucker punch to the gut. “I care about you.” More than he wanted to admit. But what would be the point in telling her that?

  “I know you do,” she said softly. “Just not enough to make you stay.”

  He knew she was tipsy, because there was no way in hell the Kat he knew would open herself up enough to be this raw and honest with him. Though he was hardly one to talk. When he’d shot out of his chair, his equilibrium tilted and he’d nearly taken a header into the wall. Even standing here now, he was having a little trouble keeping it vertical. If he had any doubt as to the level of his intoxication, there was zero left when he heard himself say, “You could come back with me, Kat.” Perhaps that was something he should have consulted sober Cole on before offering, though he was pretty sure that guy was on board, too.

  Now Katie, on the other hand, not so much. “How long do you think that would last, Cole? You said it yourself, your life is not conducive to having a relationship.” She let out a bitter laugh. “What the hell am I even saying . . . my life isn’t conducive to having a relationship. Besides, I can’t leave my dad—he needs me.”

  She looked like she was about to cry, which twisted his gut into knots. The pain took his breath away, and the urge to make it stop swept over him with wild desperation—anything to ease her pain—anything to quell the agony in his heart.

  “You’re smart to stay away, Cole. You don’t want to get any more involved in this mess.”


  Did she honestly think that was holding him back? “Kat . . .” He slid his hand up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against her plump bottom lip. Lord help him, he wanted to kiss her, to taste the sweet ambrosia on her tongue. “Kat, look at me. What’s going on in your life has nothing to do with us. If anything, it only makes me want you more. I want to fix this for you. I want to keep you safe. When you smile, I want the satisfaction of knowing I’m the man who put it there. You deserve so much—so much more than I can give you. As much as I wish it were otherwise, what I can offer comes with an expiration date. I want you so much it’s killing me, but I refuse to lie to you. I won’t make you promises I know I can’t keep. But goddamn . . . knowing how this story is going to end only makes me want to cherish every day with you all the more.”

  It hadn’t been his intention to pour his heart out to her like this. Damn brandy. Nor had it been his intention to woo her into submission, but he could hardly resist when Katie stood on her tip toes and whispered, “Then let’s just make sure we make every day count from here on out then.” When her lips touched his, it was electric, like a current of live energy raced under his skin to lightning bolt straight into his cock. A hungry growl filled the small ice house, and it took him a second to register that the sound was coming from him. He slipped his arms around Katie’s narrow waist and tugged her up against him as he took control of the kiss. Untethered lust tore through his veins, the governor on his control gone with his last shot of brandy. Fuck, she tasted amazing, the honey sweetness of her kiss mixed with the darker, rich, liquored-vanilla flavor.

  He wasn’t drunk enough to impair his decision making. He’d wanted her long before he’d ever put a drop of alcohol to his lips, but Katie on the other hand, he wasn’t so sure. She’d done a one-eighty on him, and he’d have hated like hell for her to wake up in the morning and regret this. Perhaps she, too, was tired of fighting this attraction. She’d been ready to give herself to him last night, before that bastard had shown up and ruined an amazing moment, and she’d been stone-cold sober then.

  Her hands slipped up his shirt, nails raking against his back as she wiggled herself closer, grinding her flat stomach against his painfully hard arousal. She consumed his tortured groan, her tongue tangling with his, her kiss growing more uninhibited, more frantic with each passing moment. He broke his mouth away, struggling to catch his breath and clear his mind as doubt hedged in. The last thing he wanted to do was take advantage of her—he’d never forgive himself if he hurt her like that.

  But holy hell, she was a wildcat in his arms. Her breath came against his throat, fast and hot as she sucked and nipped her way down his neck. Her hands slipped to his waistband, fumbling with the button. Okay, those needed to stay on or he was done for. Bending forward to remove the temptation from her reach, he caught her hands and dragged them back up his chest. Katie whimpered her protest and then bit his neck when he refused to release her wrists. The sting hovered just shy of painful, and courted the male in Cole to retaliate.

  Bending Katie’s arms behind her back, he held them firmly in one hand, while his other slipped into her hair, gripping her knotted twist. The tie slipped loose, releasing bounds of pale silk into his hand as he pulled her head away from his neck. Their eyes met and briefly held. Katie’s gaze was heavy-lidded, from alcohol or lust he couldn’t know, and he wouldn’t take the chance of presuming. Before he could think too hard on it, Cole dipped his head, burying his face in her lush cleavage generously on display by the deep vee of her cable-knit sweater.

  His name escaped her lips on a sigh as he slipped his tongue between the valley of her breasts and latched on to the generous swell of flesh, nipping and sucking, marking her as his own, even if only for a little while. He wouldn’t have sex with her, not like this, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy each other a little. Everything they’d done together sober was fair game as far as his conscience was concerned.

  He walked her back a few steps to the bed and released his hold on her wrists as he eased her down, blanketing her with his body. With her hands now free, she dove them into his hair as she greedily sought his mouth. Gone was the shy, timid woman he’d had to tease and seduce, courting her to lower her guard and let him in. She’d made him work for it. The only thing he was working for now was the restraint to hold her back.

  Katie’s hands slipped between them, again going for his waist, only this time her hand went lower, stroking him through his jeans. He tensed above her, grappling for control as the pressure built in the base of his cock, his balls aching with the need to come. A pained groan rumbled deep in his throat. Her hand stilled its torturous play.

  “What’s wrong, Cole?”

  Perhaps Katie wasn’t as wasted as he thought. That she was this aware of him and in tune with his response spoke volumes to her lucidity. Before he could answer her with some lame-ass excuse, she contrived her own answer, and damn if it wasn’t spot fucking on.

  “You need to come. Last night when we . . . You didn’t . . . Wow, Cole, I’m so sorry.”

  Seriously? She was apologizing to him for that? Sure, he’d hurt like hell, for hours, but it wasn’t her fault. He didn’t blame her. What he had blamed her for, however, was pushing him away, shutting him out when he knew she needed him—if for nothing more than to hold her, to keep the nightmares at bay.

  Cole shifted his weight over her so he could see directly into her eyes. “Kat, are you drunk?”

  She gave him a funny look. “No. Are you?”

  “Not drunk enough to not care if you are.”

  She laughed. “I’m not drunk, Cole. That’s not to say I should be driving a car right now, but I know what I’m doing. I want this.”

  “That’s what drunk people always say. Count to forty-nine by sevens.”

  Katie laughed. “Are you actually giving me a sobriety test before you’ll have sex with me? I gotta say, this is a first. I can’t decide if it’s either the sweetest or most offensive thing you’ve done.”

  “Considering how much it’s killing me not to be inside you right now, let’s go with the sweetest.”

  “Considering how much it’s killing me not to have you inside me right now, let’s go with sober—definitely sober.”

  She didn’t have to tell him twice. Cole reached behind his back and yanked his shirt over his head. He leaned back, giving Katie room to wiggle out of her sweater, and banged the back of his head on the mattress springs above him. He muttered a curse and Katie giggled.

  “You think that’s funny, do you?” he growled.

  “I told you it was going to be a tight fit. These twin beds weren’t made with a six-foot-four, two-hundred-pound cage fighter in mind.”

  When she tugged her sweater over her head, all teasing stopped—along with his heart—at the sight of her gorgeous breasts bound in a red lace bra. She reached behind her back to unclasp the hook and he stopped her. “Uh-uh . . . unwrapping the package is my job.”

  Sliding out of the bed, Cole rose to his full height and unbuttoned his jeans. He could feel Katie’s eyes on him as he jerked down his zipper. Her surprised gasp stoked his male pride a couple good hard tugs and had his erection straining for the chance to wring more gasps just like that from her kiss-swollen lips.

  “You don’t wear any underwear.”

  She sounded shocked and completely scandalized by her discovery. He shrugged, giving her a roguish grin. “Not always,” he replied, stepping out of his jeans. “You should try it sometime.”

  Her mischievous grin hit him below the belt, knocking the air from his lungs. Without a doubt, he’d never wanted a woman more than he wanted this woman right here—right now.

  “Maybe I will.”

  Damn, she was hot. “Take your pants off, Kat. I want to see if you’re wearing a matching set.”

  Her knowing smile was pure temptation. “You know I am . . .”

  No sooner had she slipped out of her jeans and Cole laid eyes on those candy-apple-red lace panties, t
han he was on her.

  Katie’s laughter quickly turned into a soft moan as Cole’s hungry mouth found hers. His hand gripped her breast, teasing her nipple through the thin lace barrier as she arched against him. He took the hint and slipped his hand beneath her back, deftly unclasping her bra. The lace came loose and he wasted no time tearing it away to reveal the bountiful feast before him. “Damn, sweetheart, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” And he meant it. She was thin, but curvy. Her breasts were naturally full, and so achingly soft with raspberry nipples that made his mouth water. Slowly, he dragged his hands down her waist, spanning the narrowest part with both of them. She was so small, so fragile, but the feminine flare of her hips and shapely breasts kept her from looking too willowy.

  She frowned at his words as if she didn’t believe him. Subconsciously, her gaze flickered to where he knelt between her thighs, but he refused to follow her stare, hating like hell the uncertainty, the self-consciousness he saw reflected in her emerald eyes. This woman was stunning, with or without scars. Hell, they all had them. He certainly had more than his share. Hers just happened to be more visible than others, that’s all.

  “You don’t have to lie to me, Cole. You already got me in bed.”

  Her admonishment was meant to be teasing, but he could hear the inflection of truth behind her softly spoken words. “Hey,” he whispered, taking hold of her chin and gently turning her gaze back to his. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Kat. I’m telling you, without a doubt, hands down, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  Her smile stole his breath, and he dipped his head, kissing her before he did something crazy like tell her he loved her. The thought suddenly hit him with the force of a roundhouse kick to the gut, nearly knocking the wind out of him. Holy hell . . . I’m in love with Katrina Miller. The realization was enough to bring this CFA champion fighter to his knees—which was exactly where he wanted to be right now, kneeling between Katie’s sweet, delectable thighs . . .

  Sliding his hands over her legs, she reflexively tensed. He didn’t expect her to miraculously get over her apprehension of being touched there overnight, but Cole silently vowed she eventually would. Placing his hands on her knees, he parted her legs further and slowly grazed his palms up her thighs. This time, her tension wasn’t quite as apparent. He brushed his thumb over the thin strip of red lace covering the best package of all. A tortured groan rumbled in his throat at finding them damp for him.