She wanted to go home and work for the afternoon. Conner needed to grade papers anyway, and there was no way he would get anything done with her in his house. As loath as he was to admit it.
“I can’t believe you eat this stuff,” she teased, holding up a thick burger loaded with cheese, bacon, and all the regular toppings. She could barely get her mouth around it.
“What? Are you saying my favorite indulgence isn’t delicious?” He covered his heart in mock hurt.
“No.” She pointed at his chest with a general wave of her hand. “I’m saying how the hell does someone as fit as you eat this and stay so buff?”
He laughed. “I work out. A lot. Hard. I can eat whatever I want in between.”
“Even at your advanced age?”
He wadded up his napkin and threw it at her across the table. And then he stood, leaned over the red-and-white checkered table cloth, and grabbed her face to lean over and whisper in her ear. “I didn’t hear anyone complaining about my advanced age this morning while I had my cock in her sweet wet pussy and my fingers in her tight virgin ass.”
She giggled, a shiver shaking her as he let her go. Her eyes danced with mirth when he sat back down.
What he wanted to do was take her over his knee, perhaps to make her come screaming his name rather than spank her.
Suddenly a shadow fell over him as someone stepped in between him and the sun. When he turned to look up, he was shocked to find Dmitry Volikov straddling the bench seat of the picnic table.
He plopped himself down too close for comfort and grabbed one of Conner’s fries. “Hey.”
Conner narrowed his gaze at Dmitry, stiffening. “What are you doing here, Volikov?”
“You’re a difficult man to track down.”
“I heard you were looking for me at the gym. If this is about fighting for Yenin, forget it. Tell him I said fuck no for the millionth time.”
Sabrina flinched, a soft gasp escaping her lips.
The last thing Conner wanted to do was mix Sabrina up with the Russians. It left a bad taste in his mouth. Dmitry was a good enough guy most of the time, but Conner wasn’t sure he trusted him.
“Dude, you think I haven’t already conveyed that message?” Dmitry turned toward Sabrina and smiled as though he’d just realized Conner wasn’t dining alone. His gaze ran up and down her torso, taking her in.
Conner’s blood boiled. “You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here, Dmitry?”
Slowly, Dmitry let his gaze slide from Sabrina to Conner. “Anton is in a state. I wanted to warn you.”
“I got that the last time I saw him.” When he threatened me.
“He talks about you a lot.” Dmitry leaned closer. “A lot.” He glanced at Sabrina again. At least he had the sense not to blab everything he knew to her.
Conner had to appreciate that much. He sat back, wiping his fingers on his napkin. At least he’d finished his burger before Dmitry ruined his appetite. “What do you want me to do?”
Dmitry shrugged. “Watch your back.”
Conner sucked in a sharp breath. “You think it’s that bad?” So much for keeping Sabrina out of the loop. She would have questions now. Rightfully so.
“I do.”
Conner hesitated. “Why the hell do you fight for that asshole?”
Dmitry chuckled sardonically as he stood. “If you think it’s that simple, you’re dumber than I thought.”
Conner swallowed. He knew the Russian fighters had a plateful of issues, but weren’t they working for Yenin voluntarily? “If you need the money, go pro. You’re good enough.”
Dmitry shook his head as though Conner were dense. At that point, Conner was inclined to agree. “I wish I had your lily-white life with the picket fence, dude, but not all of us live that way. Stay clean. Don’t let him bully you.”
“Trust me, man. I wouldn’t fight for him for all the money in China.”
Dmitry tapped the table with his fingers. “What if it were for all the money in Asia, and you didn’t have any other income?” He lifted one eyebrow and then turned and walked away.
Sabrina gasped. “What the fuck?” she mumbled when Dmitry was out of earshot.
Conner jerked his head back to face her.
She winced when he met her gaze.
“For once, I’m going to have to agree with you. What the fuck is right. Dammit.” He stood. “Let’s get out of here.” He took her hand as he led her to his Mustang, glancing over his shoulder as they went. It wasn’t logical to think they were being followed. Or hell, maybe it was. As fucked up as his life was, he wouldn’t put anything past anyone lately.
As soon as he had Sabrina safely in the car and had entered his own side and shut the door, she spoke again. “You gonna tell me what that was all about?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t say more as he pulled away from the curb. He wanted to get out of Dodge first. He’d tell her about Yenin after they got to her house.
They drove in silence. He gripped the steering wheel, paranoia setting in. What the hell did Dmitry mean when he said fighting for Yenin would pay a fortune? What bothered him more was that he suggested Conner could be out of a job. Was it possible Yenin was behind the ridiculous accusations at work? It made sense. After all, the allegations were false and anonymous.
Conner followed Sabrina into her house and shut the door behind him.
She dropped her purse on the kitchen table and turned to face him. “Talk.”
He plopped onto the couch and glanced around again at the number of books in her living room. He didn’t think any normal person could read that many books in a lifetime. And he would bet money she’d already read most of them.
He leaned his elbows on his knees as Sabrina sat next to him and curled her legs under her.
“Dmitry’s a good enough guy. I don’t think he meant any harm.”
She startled. “If that guy was one of your friends, I’d hate to meet any of your enemies.”
Conner smiled briefly and then leaned back against the couch to give her some details. “There’s this Russian mob guy named Anton Yenin. He thinks he owns Vegas. And in a way he does. He has hounded me to fight for him for years, but for some reason he’s gotten demanding about it lately, and even threatened me if I didn’t.”
“Shit. Are you serious?”
“That’s two.” He narrowed his gaze at her. “Stop cussing.”
Sabrina jumped up and put her hands on her hips. “Conner, don’t change the subject. This is fucking important.” She emphasized the word fucking and stiffened as though challenging him.
Conner blew out a breath. “I agree. It’s important. And I’m trying to tell you the saga. If you would just listen. You don’t need to sully yourself with foul language. I got the picture.”
“Sully myself? Listen to you.” Her voice rose. “There’s some fucking asshole mob guy fucking threatening you, and he sent his fucking minion to find you and add to that fucking threat, and you want me to fucking watch my fucking language?”
Conner pursed his lips. “Sometimes you suck at submission.” He wiped his palms on his jeans, itching to take her over his knee and knowing now was not the time. He’d made himself very clear on the issue of cussing—and she had failed at it miserably since he’d started dominating her. What the hell kind of submissive would she be long term?
He stared at her, wondering how they’d gotten so far off track since that morning when it had seemed the world was a perfect place for the two of them.
“I think I should go.” His patience was waning. He had a shit ton of problems on his plate, and he didn’t want to fight with Sabrina on top of everything. He was afraid he might say something he couldn’t take back if he didn’t leave. He stood.
“You have got to be kidding.”
He shook his head. “Sabrina, you’re pissed. And frankly I’m pissed also. And I have a very full plate. I don’t need you topping me right now in addition everything else. I’m going to leave. I’ll call you later.
” He headed for the door, knowing it was the right thing to do.
Ordinarily he wasn’t as short tempered as he had been for the past week. However, ordinarily he didn’t have some crazy person trying to get him fired, a Russian asshole threatening to make him fight underground, some insane professor pretending he was her boyfriend, and a submissive from the club trying to claim him as her own when it was totally over between them before it had ever started.
Sabrina was a woman he wanted a future with. At least he thought he did. If she had a submissive bone hiding inside her somewhere. But right now, he needed space. He needed to go to the gym and work out his frustration. There was no way he could reason with her this afternoon.
“Fine. Go.”
He walked out the door without looking back, madder than ever. At himself more than anything. Was he doing the right thing?
If it meant the difference between saying things he couldn’t take back and holding his tongue, then yes, he needed to walk away.
He nearly jogged to his car and pulled away from her house before he could talk himself into going back inside to reason with her. Neither of them was in the right frame of mind to be rational. Later. If she was still speaking to him…
∙•∙
Sabrina winced when the door slammed shut.
What the hell had just happened?
She flopped down on the couch and groaned. That had not gone well. And she accepted the majority of the blame. Why on earth had she thought goading him would be a good idea?
Obviously the man had a lot going on. Maybe she didn’t know him as well as she thought.
Hell…that was an understatement. She didn’t know him well at all. She knew he was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. He worked out hard and fought amateur MMA. He was a firm Dom. What else did she really know?
That he made her panties wet every time he entered a room.
That her heart raced just thinking about him.
That he could make her come harder than anyone she’d ever been with.
Fuck.
Oh, and he didn’t tolerate cussing for some reason.
Some Russian mafia guy was after him.
Some other professor wanted in his pants.
Some gorgeous submissive at the club thought she deserved to put her claws in him.
Hell, there might even be a student or two who would fight over him given the chance, like that Angelina girl, or whatever her name was, from last semester. If he had to deal with very many coeds like her, she didn’t envy his job.
Sabrina closed her eyes and groaned again. She needed to apologize for her insolence. Later.
She ran a hand over her face and stood. They both needed a time out. And she had work to do. Perhaps if she buried herself in her editing, the day would fly by. Later tonight she would text him and apologize.
Sabrina hauled herself off the couch and headed for her office. She booted up her computer and tucked herself into her seat. Over a dozen e-mails had accumulated since she’d last gone through them yesterday. She opened the first one and worked her way through them, intending to address only what was most urgent on a Sunday afternoon.
The third one made her blood run cold.
What the…?
Dear Ms. Duluth,
If you value your dignity, I suggest you find someone else to play house with. Your current dalliance is not in your best interest. The professor is about to learn a hard lesson. I suggest you make yourself scarce fast before you find yourself in a heap of trouble. These sorts of things can follow you for a lifetime.
Sincerely,
A Concerned Citizen
Sabrina held her breath and read the short message over and over. What the hell? Suddenly, she noticed there was an attachment. A zip file.
Fuck.
With shaking fingers, she clicked on the download button. After a few tense seconds, a stream of pictures popped onto the screen. Sabrina sucked in a sharp breath and jumped to her feet, releasing the mouse as though it were poisonous.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. How the hell did someone get these photos?
She shivered as she stared at each shot as it flipped by, each one remaining for only a few seconds before another showed up like a slide show. A pornographic slide show.
The first few were innocuous enough. A picture of her leaning toward Conner outside Extreme. It had to have been that first night. Though how anyone managed to catch a shot that demonstrated anything but aggravation was beyond her.
The next shot was of her in his car outside the arena the next Friday night. It was blurry.
The third was of the two of them at King Pizza at lunch. She looked very submissive in that shot. It stunned her to think she’d appeared so vulnerable in public.
And then her gut clenched. She grabbed her belly to avoid vomiting on her keyboard as her eyes widened. There she was, completely naked, lying over Conner’s lap as he spanked her on her own couch. It was a bit blurry also, obviously taken from outside the front window through a gap in the blinds. She knew for a fact the blinds hadn’t been open when she stripped in the living room.
The next one made her grab the back of the chair and hold on to avoid collapsing. She was bent over the side of Conner’s bed as he pushed a plug into her. Her face conveyed extreme rapture.
All the blood ran from her head, leaving her faint.
Why?
She sank to the floor finally and leaned against the wall, lowering her head between her knees before she hyperventilated. She needed to catch her breath before her mind would work again. She squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled long and slow. Oxygen. And then action.
But what was she going to do?
She stiffened. Even before she’d opened the e-mail she’d been pissed with Conner. Now she was livid.
It’s not his fault someone is stalking us and taking pictures. Her rational self-made a plea for Conner.
Her heart told her to run.
She glanced around the room, feeling violated. Someone had fucking followed her, or Conner, and taken pictures at nearly every juncture. How many more were there? There could be hundreds for all she knew.
Shit.
Should she call the police?
Wait. What about Rider, Emily’s boyfriend? He was a cop. Maybe she should call him.
Ugh. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to actually see these degrading pictures.
How humiliating. She shivered again and wrapped her arms around her middle as though cold.
She stayed like that for a long time, unable to move. Unable to make any decisions.
Holy shit.
Maybe she should heed the advice of the e-mail and stay away from Conner. Clearly he had a closet full of ghosts if someone was following him all over creation and taking pictures of him.
Why? What was the objective?
Or perhaps the stalker’s goal was simply to get rid of Sabrina.
Hmmm. That was a possibility. There seemed to be a plethora of women who wanted in Conner’s pants badly. Maybe one of them sent the message. Whoever it was, they were articulate.
That professor who wanted him to go out with her? Or what about the girl at the club, Missy? She didn’t seem like the type to use such proper English, but who knew?
Would a professor at the university be threatening Sabrina so she could sleep with Conner? Not likely. Because even without Sabrina in the picture, that didn’t mean Conner would go out with the woman.
What about the Russian guy? Jesus. She knew the Russian mob wanted Conner to fight for them. That was abundantly clear. But what did that have to do with Sabrina?
Fuck.
She pulled herself off the floor and made her way out of the office without glancing back at the computer screen. She would vomit if she saw those images again.
She padded to the kitchen, unease creeping up her spine.
Was someone outside even now, watching her? She glanced at the front window. The blinds were closed, just as they had been the other night. O
ne slat was askew.
She inched closer. Yep. One slat was definitely lying on its side, having gotten caught in the strings. That was for sure where the picture had been taken.
Sabrina reached out and righted the slat before turning toward the kitchen.
No way in hell could she edit as she’d planned for the afternoon.
She needed to talk to someone.
Rider seemed like the best option. She wasn’t calm enough to call Conner. And she wasn’t sane enough to make good choices under the circumstances.
She grabbed her cell phone from her back pocket and scrolled down to find Emily’s number. Thank God the woman had exchanged numbers with her.
Sabrina lowered herself onto a kitchen chair as the phone rang.
Emily picked up on the fourth ring just when Sabrina was starting to worry.
“Sabrina. Hi. How are you?” Her voice was full of excitement.
“Not so great actually. I don’t suppose Rider is with you. I could use some advice. It’s kind of personal.”
“Oh. Okay. Sorry. He’s at the gym. I think Conner is with him in fact.”
“Shoot. Right. That makes sense.”
“I could text Rider and ask him to contact you when he’s done. I can’t guarantee he would keep it from Conner, though. The guys are pretty close.”
“Yeah. Of course. It was a bad idea.” Sabrina nibbled on her lower lip, thinking about Plan B. She couldn’t just sit there and wait. The stress was killing her.
“You could call the gym. Joe, the owner, might pick up, and he could track the guys down if it’s urgent. I’m sure they left their cell phones in their lockers. It’s tough to get ahold of them when they’re working out.”
“I’m sure.” She glanced out the window. She didn’t think she could stay inside the house one more minute alone anyway. Even if she had spoken to Rider over the phone, her skin was crawling. “I think I’ll just drive to the gym. That’ll be faster. Can you text me the address?”
“Absolutely. Sorry I couldn’t be of more help. I hope everything’s okay.” She didn’t add the lilt to the end of that sentence that would have turned it into a question. Bless her.
Sabrina didn’t want to discuss it with Emily right then. It wouldn’t do any good. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’ll get back with you later this week, okay?”
The Fight Club - Boxed Set Page 102