Jenna looked down. “Which parts? I’m almost naked.”
“Nipples. Crotch. That’s all that really matters.”
“Okay, nipples barely.” Jenna hoisted the front of the corset up higher, the shelf for her breasts reaching only millimeters past her areolas. “And the only thing covering my crotch is my own thong. I kinda like the garters, though. They feel sexy.”
“You look fabulous.”
“Okay, but I’m not ready to wear this in public. Let me try something else for a starter outfit.”
Katy pouted, but consented and turned to grab something more modest off the rack. When she returned, Jenna was impressed. “Shit, that’s smokin’. Do you think it will fit?” She ducked back inside and stripped off the tight bustier.
The new ensemble was a one-piece dress consisting of a supple, black leather bikini top that would cover her breasts as well as any bra. The bottom half was also black leather, a skirt that was short and tight. But as Jenna wiggled into it, she decided it covered all the essential parts, reaching barely below her butt cheeks and starting above her pubic hair. The center was a mesh tulle that was totally see-through and sexy as hell.
Jenna opened the curtain again, and Katy gasped. “I love it. That’s so hot.”
“What will Mason think?”
“He’s going to eat out of your hand.”
Why do I doubt that?
Mason texted Jenna every day that week. He invited her to accompany him on Friday evening to watch him fight and then head to the club again. It seemed he did that often.
He didn’t suggest seeing her again during the week, but he was incredibly busy by her standards. The man worked out every night at the gym. Jenna had never known anyone so dedicated.
On Friday he picked her up at home. She wore black jeans, a black top, and the same fuck-me heels from last week, this time chosen by herself.
Mason eyed her with a grin from head to toe and kissed her on the cheek. “You look fantastic.”
“You look like you’ve been beaten.” She cringed. His eye had a cut above it and his cheek was blue.
“Rafe didn’t treat me well in the gym yesterday. It’s okay.”
Jenna followed him to his car.
“What’s in the bag?”
“Stuff.” The dress she intended to wear later was conveniently wrinkle free and she tossed it in the back seat when he opened the car door. “For later. Don’t peek.”
Mason did turn around with a frown when he settled into his own seat. “I don’t like secrets.”
“You’ll like this one. Just drive.” She had no idea where she was going to change, but she intended to figure it out sooner or later.
The arena was more crowded than last week, and Jenna felt more confident than seven days ago too. She’d studied the sport this time and at least knew the difference between grappling and striking. Whoever sat near her in the girlfriend zone couldn’t accuse her of being ignorant this time.
Mason was quieter than usual. He didn’t say much on the drive nor in the locker room. When Byron came to get her, she felt uneasy. “Good luck. See you on the other side.”
Byron led her down the same hall as last week.
Jenna stopped him as they approached the noise. “Is everything okay? You’re both very hushed.”
“It’s a stiff competition this week. Mason has lost to this guy twice, and he doesn’t like to lose.”
Jenna nodded.
“And we don’t usually have two competitions in a row like this. So, Mason is more tired than usual.” Byron strolled away, leaving her to enter the arena and find her seat.
She was later this time. The previous match ended soon after she took a chair in the same corner as last week.
The woman who sat in the seat next to her got up and left as soon as the competition ended.
Jenna wrung her hands as she waited. The crowd was lively. Surely all these people didn’t know the fighters? Was it so popular watching men beat each other up that everyone flocked to the arena on a Friday night?
The announcer called the next competition, and Mason stepped into the cage. He strolled over to the corner, but he didn’t look at Jenna at all.
It’s okay. He’s concentrating. He’s in a zone. Let it go.
She felt uncomfortable alone in the stands without a Shelly to guide her. She knew more, but she also had the opportunity to really study the sport this time. What the hell was she doing following a fighter around? This was so unlike her.
The bell chimed, and Jenna jerked in her seat. She stood and angled around the others milling in the front row to see over their heads.
From the first moment, it didn’t look good. Mason took a hard hit to the left side of his head, and then he went down for several seconds. The other guy lay on top of him, grappling for domination. Mason didn’t give up, but by the time the five minutes were up, he was struggling. He staggered to his seat, and Byron wiped him down with a towel.
Jenna wanted to scream. What the hell did he want to do this for? And why was she watching?
She was crazy.
She sat on her hands for the entire minute and then stood reluctantly when the bell chimed again. The insanity continued. Mason avoided several hits with his signature bullfighting move, but his opponent was on his game. The man kept coming and coming until Mason was backed up against the fence. Blood ran down his face and dripped from his arm.
Jenna wanted to vomit, or close her eyes. Either way, this wasn’t her cup of tea. She’d been kidding herself all week. She’d never be able to do this on a regular basis. Last week had been different. Mason had won. He’d had the upper hand almost from the start. But this… This was reality. Sometimes he would lose.
By the time the bell rang, ending the third round, Jenna was a ball of nerves. Her hands were sweating, and she felt fidgety. She couldn’t get out of the arena fast enough.
Mason had lost, and the victor was prancing around the cage with his fist in the air.
A disgusting bloody Mason left the mat and disappeared down the ramp to the locker rooms.
Jenna followed at a distance, not sure what sort of Mason she would encounter after that competition. She didn’t know him well enough to assess his moods yet.
She waited in the hall, feeling stupid and out of sorts for half an hour. What she wanted to do was run from the location and flee the premises. This didn’t suit her at all. She was a fish out of water.
But she hadn’t driven here, and besides, it wasn’t fair to Mason to leave without talking to him. Maybe he wouldn’t feel like going to the club after all. She’d be content to call it a night and go home at this point.
Finally the door opened, and Mason stepped sheepishly out of the locker room. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to take so long.” He cringed when he spoke, but righted himself quickly, standing taller and straightening his shoulders.
“No problem. I’m sorry about the match.” What else could she say?
He shrugged. “Win some. Lose some. I knew it was going to be tough going in.” He took her hand and led her down the hall in an awkward silence.
Her chest lightened somewhat now that he was near and seemed sane.
“I need a drink,” he mumbled.
Now? He didn’t drink last week when he took her to Extreme. Wasn’t that like against his personal policy?
Jenna’s nerves kicked back up a notch. She dragged a few steps behind him.
“You okay?” he asked as he opened the car door. “You’re awfully quiet.”
She shrugged. “We don’t have to go to the club if you aren’t up to it.”
He leaned in the door. “You don’t want to go?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Mason stood back and shut the door a little too hard. When he entered from his side, his lips were pursed. He started the engine without saying a word.
They drove for fifteen minutes in silence until Jenna wanted him to let her out of the car wherever they were so she could
escape his brooding. She didn’t know what his problem was. Was he mad about losing? Or was he mad about her attitude? She didn’t know how to tell him the fight scene wasn’t her thing.
Finally she realized they were headed to her place. She was both relieved and disappointed. Maybe this entire adventure had been a pipe dream.
Mason pulled up to the curb and stopped the engine. He sat still for a minute. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
This? This what? This relationship or this evening?
Jenna gripped her hands in her lap and looked at his profile, trying to read him.
He spoke again without looking at her. “I don’t lose often. I’m not very good at it.”
“I understand.” But she didn’t. None of it. Not the fighting or the no-girlfriend rule or the fetish scene. It suddenly seemed way out of her league.
“Can I take a rain check?” He glanced her way.
“Of course.” Or maybe not.
She grabbed her bag from the backseat, feeling foolish now to have thought she would ever wear such a thing. When she reached for the door, he stopped her with one hand. “Let me get it.”
He was out of the car and around to her side in seconds. At least he hadn’t lost that gentlemanly touch. When she exited, he lifted her chin and frowned into her eyes. He kissed her forehead and then walked her to the door. “I’ll call you tomorrow?”
“Okay.” She ducked inside quick, fighting back tears, wishing he would go so she could wallow in her own stupid hurt.
Mason turned around and ambled back to his car with his hands in his pockets.
Jenna watched him from the window as a lone tear slipped down her cheek. Why the sudden emotion, she had no idea.
It was all so stupid. She never should have let herself get caught in this roller coaster ride. She’d known for a week it would come to this. She wasn’t cut out for his life, and he couldn’t change for her.
She headed straight to her bedroom, stripped off her clothes, and tugged on a T-shirt. After a quick trip to the bathroom, she curled into her bed and let the tears of regret fall from her face. She didn’t bother wiping them away.
She deserved to wear them, like a badge of her own ignorance for letting her heart get involved with a man like Mason Simmons.
Chapter Twelve
Her phone was ringing. It had been for a while.
Jenna rolled onto her back and glanced at the clock. Shit. It was already eight. She never slept this late. She had to get to the shop. It was her turn to open. She flung back the covers, ignoring the ringing that started over in the kitchen, and headed for the shower. In twenty minutes she was clean, dressed, and out the door.
She didn’t glance at her phone until she opened the shop at nine.
Katy. Call me. What happened?
Jenna sighed. The last thing she wanted to do this morning was rehash last night. She didn’t want to think about it.
Luckily the shop was busy all morning. David arrived soon after she opened and started with the deliveries. Mariel came in at noon and took over the front, leaving Jenna to brood alone in the back while she did what she loved most in the world.
As she reached for the wide white ribbon to finish off an arrangement, she cringed and chose a different style.
When the door between the shop and the back opened later in the afternoon and Katy barreled in, Jenna was almost ready to smile.
“What happened? And why didn’t you call me back?” She cocked her hip and set her hand on it.
“I’ve been busy, and nothing happened.” That was an understatement.
“Then why did Mason show up at the club alone last night and spend the evening sitting at the bar alone? He never does that; and he never broods.”
“He went to the club?” She took the information like a punch to the gut.
“Yes. And he looked like he’d been beaten too. I guess he lost his fight?”
“Yep.” Jenna continued to arrange the spray of pink carnations in front of her.
“That’s it? Just, yep?” Katy leaned on the counter to make eye contact with her friend. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Jenna took a deep breath. “Nothing really. We went to the arena. He lost. He brooded. He brought me home. The end.”
“Why didn’t you come to the club with him? So what if he lost?”
“Truthfully? I didn’t know he was going there. He didn’t seem like he wanted company and…” Jenna stopped working and looked at her friend. “Katy, I don’t think this is going to work.”
“What? You and Mason? You didn’t give it a chance, and I know you like him, or you wouldn’t be shaking like you are and stabbing red flower thingies in with the pink thingies.” Katy swiped her hand through the air as she spoke.
Jenna grinned. “Thingies?”
“Whatever. Get back on subject. Do you or do you not have the hots for Mason Simmons?”
“Of course I do. Who wouldn’t?”
“Then why did he take you home and come alone to Extreme last night?”
“I have no idea, Katy. Why don’t you ask him?” Jenna threw up her arms. “Maybe he didn’t feel like being with me?”
“Or maybe you told him to take you home? I know you, Jenna. You chickened out, didn’t you?”
Had she? She exhaled and shrugged her shoulders. Perhaps. But she’d been in over her head the entire evening.
She dropped her scissors and stepped back to sit on her stool. “The fight was gross. I hated it. Why do men want to do that? Who wants to go somewhere and get their ass kicked on a regular basis? Does he make that much money doing it? Is that it?”
Katy shook her head. “He doesn’t make any money. He’s amateur. He does it because he loves the sport of it.”
“Well, I hate it. It was awful. I don’t know why I didn’t realize that last week. I guess because he won, and it didn’t last as long, and maybe I was lying to myself because I wanted to get into his pants so bad. In either case, it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to go sit and watch that every weekend. I hated it.”
“Then don’t go.” Katy made it sound so simple. “I don’t go very often myself. It’s more of an outlet for pent-up energy for both Rafe and Mason. They think of it as working out. No one goes to the gym with me. Why should I go with him?”
Jenna stared at Katy. “You think it’s really that simple?”
“I do. Listen,” she leaned against the counter. “Every once in a while I go to show support, but not every match. I have other interests. We meet up after and hit the club. We rarely discuss the fight for more than a few minutes. I console. He kisses me, and we move on.”
“I’m not sure Mason is as easy going as Rafe.”
“That may be true. I don’t doubt you on that. But talk to him. Don’t let this thing slip down the drain over a silent misunderstanding. Tell him what you told me and see what he says.”
“Okay.”
Katy stood. “I have to go. Call me?”
“I will. Oh and Katy?”
“Yes?”
“Can you write his address down for me?”
She grinned. “Of course.” She scribbled on the notepad on the corner of the island and passed the piece of paper to Jenna. “Later.” She winked and waltzed out.
•●•
Jenna pulled in front of Mason’s house at three in the afternoon. Mariel had shooed her out the door when Katy left, telling her to go deal with whatever man issues were making her hurt. Jenna had hugged the woman tight, grateful for someone in her life who cared as much as Mariel did.
Jenna knocked on the door and waited with her hands folded in front of her, trying not to let her nerves eat her alive.
It took longer than she expected, but finally the door opened. The smile that spread across Mason’s face lit her up inside.
“Hi.”
“Come in.” He stepped back and opened the door wider.
Jenna stepped inside, but she didn’t see much of the ho
use at first. Her gaze was pinned on the man who wore only a pair of low-riding, gray sweats. His feet were bare. His chest was divine as usual, and she licked her lips before she had the sense to look away.
Trying not to breathe too heavily, she glanced around his home. “Nice place.”
“Thanks.” He shut the door and leaned against it while she perused his front room. The TV was on but not the volume. Some fighting event. The house was immaculate for a bachelor pad, the only thing not strategically placed being the open book that lay on the sofa upside down to save his spot.
“Did I interrupt anything?” She turned toward him, trying not to ogle his chest.
“No. You’d never be interrupting anything. I was reading, but to be honest, I’ve read the same page several times.”
Jenna lowered her gaze. His feet were so sexy it hardly helped. “I’m sorry about last night.”
“Me too. My bad. I’m not very good with words, and when I lose a fight, I need a bit to unwind.”
“I don’t know you well enough to be aware of your needs. I felt…alienated.”
“I realized that later. Well, Katy beat it into me also.”
Jenna smiled. “I don’t care for the fighting,” she blurted.
Mason grinned. “That’s okay. You don’t have to watch me. It’s not mandatory in the girlfriend handbook.”
Did he say girlfriend?
“So you don’t mind if I don’t hang around at these competitions like some sort of groupie?”
“Nope.”
“Did it piss you off for me to see you lose?”
He shook his head. “Of course not. That’s on me. If I want to beat that guy, I’ve got to work harder. He’s a tough opponent. You had nothing to do with it. I’m just sorry you had to see me brood after.”
“Why did you go to the club?”
He shrugged. “Bad choice on my part. I should have gone home. I think I was punishing myself for the way I treated you by sitting at the bar all evening alone.”
Relief washed through her. “You didn’t have to do that. You should have talked to me. I would have understood.”
He nodded. “I should have.”
She turned around and wandered deeper into his space. “Are you always this tidy?”
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