“Why. Are. You. Here?” he said again, ignoring her question.
Her lips pulled into a smirk of her own that nearly had him crushing his lips against hers again so he could taste and feel their plush softness. “To. Fight.”
“I’ll figure it out with or without your help, Pixie. It’s best for all your friends if you just tell me now.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My owner brought us here so his male could fight. I’m to watch. End of story.”
They stared each other down, neither of them giving an inch.
“Fine. You’re just some fighter? Then you can go and stay with all the other fighters.”
He spun around, marching toward the door. Do not look back at her, he ordered himself. He and Pixie were done. It was time he made that final.
Well fuck, Pixie thought as she watched him leave. That had just gone from fucked up to even more fucked up, if that was possible. Had they really just screwed each other against the wall? Pixie shook her head slowly at herself. Without thinking, she lifted the fabric of his shirt to her nose, breathing in his intoxicating scent. She sighed. It hadn’t been a lie when she’d said they couldn’t do that again. That was just the way it needed to be. But then why did it make her feel so hollow inside?
Obviously they were all wrong for each other. It had only taken him a moment, after just tilting her entire world on its side, to start interrogating her again. There would never be trust between, that much was obvious. And while her father had been missing a lot as a father, he’d always drilled into her not to let boys take advantage of her, and that the most important thing between two people was trust.
Trust was the foundation that a relationship was built on. Without it, they would never survive. Pixie could never trust someone like Bastian. He practically oozed secrets and mystery. And she had her fair share too. What would happen if she admitted who they were and what they were doing? Would someone like him understand and relate to their aspirations to make this world better?
Looking around at the fine furnishings and electricity, she didn’t think so. Obviously he wasn’t lacking for much under the New World Order. What would it matter to him if Ludwig stayed or went? Considering how vile the fighting ring was, she was more inclined to believe he’d be on Ludwig’s side, not theirs.
Just then one of his guards entered, carrying a new set of clothes. “Put these on,” he ordered. “Then follow me.”
“Where?” she asked, catching the pants and shirts that were thrown at her. “To the cells.”
Damn.
***
Fight night was something she’d never experienced before. The sound and energy in the room was electric, pumping her full of adrenaline. Mostly she was just happy to be out of her cell. It had been dirty and disgusting, and there’d only been a dismal cot waiting for her when she got there. She hadn’t even seen Phoenix, which had been the only plus in her mind as she’d followed the guards.
When they’d come back to get her, a small part of her had hoped he’d changed his mind about putting her there, and wanted her back beside him. But that hadn’t been it. And there was no way she was going to analyze the disappointment that had caused. Instead, she had stood up straighter and followed them to another fighting room that was filled with seats and a bigger, better looking ring.
She’d been taken to where Garrett stood with Missy, her heart leaping at the sight of them. No one reacted, but she could see Missy’s relief when their eyes met. Pixie gave her a subtle wink so she’d know all was okay. Hopefully once the fight started, they’d be able to speak without anyone really noticing.
While they waited, she surveyed the room, watching as people filed in one after another. Soon all the seats were occupied, and chatter filled the room. This was insane. Everyone laughed and joked as though they were at some normal function, not about to watch two men fight for their lives. Disgust slithered through her at how far some people had fallen. Or had they always been this way? It was hard to tell. The war had definitely changed people, hardening them, warping them. But she knew enough to know that some people were just innately evil.
Bastian entered then, her eyes immediately finding him. Was he naturally evil? Something told her no, but then she thought that was ridiculous. Of course he was, she argued. He was the one who ran this whole thing. Just because they shared some sort of strange connection didn’t make him a good person suddenly. And why should she care anyway? They were nothing, she reminded herself. He’d proven that thoroughly when he tossed her away so effortlessly to the cells.
Despite the hate and anger simmering just below the surface, she couldn’t tear her eyes from him. He was dressed in a suit, something she’d never thought to witness. His long, golden brown hair was pulled back into a bun, which should have looked stupid but didn’t. Damn it, it just made him hotter. His beard was trimmed, showing off those lips that had her unconsciously licking her own.
A dark navy suit jacket stretched across his broad shoulders, a white collared shirt beneath it, open at the neck. His whole look made her want to find a wall and relive their “moment” again. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid, she told herself. The way he walked was so full of confidence, it was as though he owned the fucking world. And from the way everyone reacted to him, you’d think that was true.
Men and women alike fell all over themselves to get close to him. When he stopped to talk to someone, it was as if they’d just won the lottery. The infamous Sebastian Black was paying attention to them, and all was right in the world. She snorted, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You okay?” Missy whispered.
“Never been better,” she gritted out.
“Are you seeing this?”
Pixie quickly looked away from where Bastian stood speaking with an older looking man, her cheeks heating at being caught. “Seeing what?” she asked, trying to sound innocent. When she looked at Missy though, she was relieved to see she was looking across the gym in the opposite direction. She turned to see just what she was looking at.
Well then.
Phoenix and Trent were currently sucking face where she was standing with some other fighters. Huh. Pixie’s lips tugged up in a smile.
“It’s about damn time,” Garrett said.
Missy and Pixie nodded in agreement. The only people who hadn’t felt the sexual tension between those two were Phoenix and Trent themselves. She had wondered when they were finally going to get a clue. Although, knowing Phoenix, it was still going to be a battle for her to finally admit to her feelings. She had a sneaking suspicion Trent was the same.
Beside her, Missy sighed loudly. Pixie turned to her, smiling gently. “Missing Tyler?” she asked.
Missy bit her lip, casting a longing look at the man in question who was shackled to the wall. “More than you know.”
Pixie’s eyes instinctively when back to where Bastian now stood, remembering the way it had felt to be kissed by him, and she thought maybe she kind of did know. He’d moved on to another man, their heads bent close to one another as they spoke. A woman walked up then, sliding her arm through Bastian’s as though she owned him.
An ugly emotion turned Pixie’s stomach as she watched the woman practically paw at him. Her tits were the size of Pixie’s head, and pushed up so high in her tight, red dress, she was surprised the woman didn’t suffocate herself. What was it with these women and red dresses? Pixie looked down at her own chest, frowning. She’d never been very big in that area, and that had never bothered her. Until now.
Stop it, she scolded herself. There was nothing wrong with her body. And why in hell should she care who Bastian associated with? So what if the two of them could possibly be going back to his room to do what he and Pixie had done earlier? He was nothing to her. Nothing.
Looking back up, she cringed, unable to help it, as the woman pressed even closer to him, rubbing against him like a cat in heat. It was disgusting to watch. And what was worse, Bastian did nothing to stop her. He simply
looked over at her, giving her a small smile, before resuming his conversation.
Just then the fight bell rang out, signaling the start of the fight. Ding, ding, is right, motherfucker, Pixie thought as she watched the woman lean up and kiss the side of Bastian’s neck.
Bloody hell, she was going to tear that woman’s eyes out.
CHAPTER SEVEN
There were always moment in your life where your more basic instincts kicked in, and you reacted without really thinking it through. This was either done by way of certain actions, or by lashing out with words you didn't necessarily mean. Often, these moments happened during times of anger. There was just something about that powerful, adrenalized emotion that pushed people to do things they wouldn't do when calmer.
Well Pixie never had these kinds of moments. Mostly because she never allowed herself to get so angry that she wouldn't be able to control her actions. Her wits were her best asset and she'd learned from watching others how much trouble one could get in if they let any emotion rule them.
All of that changed in a matter of seconds as she marched across the gym, the crowd, the fight - everything, was nothing but a blur as her sole focused zeroed in on the woman in the red dress. There was a small part of her, way back in the distant recesses of her mind, that was screaming at her to stop, horrified at the whole scenario. She ignored this part. Some sort of new Pixie was in control now, awakened by Bastian, and she was fucking pissed.
It occurred to her half way there that what she was doing was insane. Not that she cared. Missy might have even called out to her at one point, but Pixie ignored her, knowing her friends would think she'd gone nuts. And hadn't she?
The woman was still pressed to Bastian, whispering something she was sure was a sensual offer or promise, just as Pixie reached them. Without hesitating, Pixie reached out, ripping her hands off of his arm, forcing her back. The look of shock was almost comical, if Pixie were so inclined to laugh at that moment.
"You need to back the fuck up," she said, stepping into the other woman's space.
"Excuse me?" the other woman said in a shrill voice.
"Sorry, do I need to slow it down for you?" she asked mockingly. Leaning in closer, Pixie bit out each word so there was no confusion. "You. Need. To. Back. The. Fuck. Up."
The woman looked past her, likely to Sebastian, which just pissed Pixie off more.
Her thin lips pouted in much the same way Pixie would imagine a child would when told they couldn't have a toy. "Sebastian?" she whined.
Pixie snapped her fingers in her face. "Speak to me, sweetheart. I'm standing right here."
The woman looked at her, finally taking her in fully. A look of disgust filled her face. "Who are you? Aren't you just some fighter? Why don't you run back to your corner?" she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Oh hell no. "I am a fighter," Pixie said with a cold smile. "Want to see how good I am?"
"Okay, that's enough," Bastian ordered, his voice slightly breaking into the haze of fury. That is, until she saw the smirk break out across the lady's face. Pixie went to step toward her but found herself being pulled back instead. Bastian wrapped his arms around her like a vise, every one of his muscles tense against her. She struggled uselessly, wanting nothing more than to smack that look off the floozy’s face.
"Pixie," Bastian warned darkly. "I said that's enough."
She stopped, taking a deep breath. She felt him do the same, his nose angling toward her hair. Suddenly she felt him grow hard against her ass, even though she could sense his anger radiating from his body.
"You can let me go now," she said loud enough for only him to hear. His arms only tightened.
"I'll do what I want, when I want. In all things. Understood?"
Oh, yeah, he was pissed, she thought. Whatever, so was she. Especially after that comment. Of course he'd fuck whomever he wanted, he wasn't hers. Nor did she want him. The fact that she had even let him touch her to begin with was all wrong.
Turning her head so she could look at him over her shoulder, she smiled coldly. "Understood."
His eyes searched hers before looking away. Calling to one of the guards, he gave him orders she didn't hear and then released her for a second until the other man grabbed hold.
"She a new one of yours?" she heard the man he'd been speaking to ask.
"I thought you said you didn't sleep with the fighters, Basty," she woman said just as Pixie got pulled away.
"I don't," she heard Bastian say. "And who's in my bed is none of your fucking concern." Pixie snorted as she walked stiffly across the room. Her eyes met Phoenix's and she instantly knew the leader of the Archers had witnessed the entire exchange. Great, she thought with an inward sigh.
"Got a problem, Pix?" Phoenix said with a grin.
Pixie grimaced. "Not a word," she replied, walking out without a backward glance.
What the hell was wrong with her? And why did Pixie's possessiveness make him want to haul her to his bed and stay there with her for a month?
He forced himself to stay and watch the next two fights, not that he really saw anything. Pixie was probably pacing the confines of her room, where he'd told his men to return her. Keeping his distance wasn't working out. Now more than ever, considering the display she'd just put on, it was imperative he stop whatever was brewing between them.
And yet he'd never wanted her more than he did now. Truth was, if she hadn't come barreling up to them, her sexy, tight body vibrating with anger, that pouty mouth of hers telling Leigh off as if he was hers, he would have told Leigh to leave him alone himself. His entire body had rejected the feeling of her hands and lips on him.
All he could think about at the time was how much better Pixie's had felt. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he let out a sigh of relief as the last bell rang, ending the night. Well, not his night. He had a feeling his night was just beginning.
Seeing Red speak to Pixie, he'd immediately noticed some familiarity there. He wasn't stupid, and he knew there was no way they'd become friends in the short time Pixie had been in the cell block. No, it just reaffirmed his initial suspicion that they were up to something, he just hadn't realized it included Red as well.
And if she was a part of whatever was going on, the fucking big guy she called hot shot was in on it too. Which just left him the task of figuring out what the hell they were all about. Nothing happened under his roof that he didn't know about, and that wasn't about to change now.
First things first though, he thought as he made his way out of the room, ignoring anyone who tried to get his attention. Standing outside her door, he faltered, taking a deep breath. He knew if he saw her and let his need take over, he'd never be strong enough to get any real answers out of her. Play time was over. He needed to forget what had happened between them and treat her like all the other fighters that came through here.
There wasn't a damn thing about her that made her any different. Bastian opened the door, their eyes meeting, and instantly his breath left him in a rush.
Jesus Christ.
Pixie stood, fixed to her spot by the end of the bed, those big doe eyes guarded. Her hair that was normally pulled back into a tight bun now fell all around her. Thick waves of warm chocolate reached just below her shoulders. He felt himself harden at just the sight, imagining himself running his hands through the strands, gripping them tight during the height of pleasure. Shit. This was already not going as planned, he thought miserably.
Clearing his throat, he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He knew how to keep his game face on in front of the best of them, and this little thing before him was no exception. "You want to tell me what that was all about?" he asked, breaking through the tense silence.
Uncertainty flashed in her eyes before she hid it. She was as good as he was at schooling her features, he noticed. Although he hadn’t missed that brief slip.
She shrugged as though her behaviour was no big deal.
"You have nothing to say now?" he
pressed, moving closer. "You didn't seem to have that problem earlier."
They stared at one another, calculating.
"Let me make myself perfectly clear," he said slowly. "I don't answer to anyone, and I do as I please. There's nothing between us beyond the fact that we fucked. That's it."
She flinched and everything inside him revolted. Fuck. This wasn't going well and the words spilling from his mouth were all wrong. She seemed to struggle for a response, her eyes darting everywhere but at him. Since the first moment he caught sight of her, he'd never seen her look so lost or unsure. Something told him she didn't know what to make of her behaviour earlier either. The vulnerability he saw in her, beneath all the strength she normally possessed, cracked away at his resolve.
"Fuck it," he said.
She looked at him in surprise for a split second before he crashed his mouth into hers. Pulling her tight, he slipped his tongue against hers as she sighed, melting into him. His hands instantly dug into her hair as though starved for the feel of it. God she was beautiful. His chest felt tight with just her nearness, as if it hurt just to breathe. She overwhelmed his senses.
"What is this between us?", he said between kisses, nipping at her lips and chin. He couldn't get enough of her. She let her head fall back as he continued to bite and suck a line down her neck.
"Lust," she answered, her voice a whisper.
He grunted, pressing their hips closer so she could feel every inch of what she did to him. "It's awful," he said.
"I agree," she replied.
He chuckled. Any thoughts of interrogating her flew from his mind as he lifted her easily into his arms, carrying her over to the bed. They fell together, her legs hooking around him to pull him against her center. They both gasped as their hips rotated, increasing their desire.
Silence, A New World Series Novella Page 5